DISCLAIMER: I do not own DBZ or the characters of the anime.

WARNING: Mature Content…sex, language, violence…do not read if you are underage.

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

Voices buzzing somewhere in the far distance, drifting in and out as if they were floating to her on the wind, drew her upwards from the great black void that surrounded her. The dimmest glint of light pierced into her skull and she squeezed her eyes tightly together, unwilling to open them to the stark reality that just had to be waiting for her. Why she felt this way, she couldn’t say, all she knew was that something terrible awaited her and she didn’t want to face it. It was safe here in the dark calm. Why would she ever want to open up her eyes again?

Still the buzzing grew more incessant and she frowned, picking up bits and pieces of their conversation.

…shouldn’t she be coming around by now? It was a nice voice, soft, yet edged with a steely hardness. It made her feel safe and secure, though for the life of her she could hardly understand why. It tugged at her senses, urging her to wake completely.

A deeper, more gravelly voice answered. "She’ll awake when she’s ready."

"She needs to know about my father." This time the soft voice was closer, as if its owner were leaning over her. She didn’t want to wake up, why couldn’t they understand that. Yet the soft voice yanked at her, as if it were silently imploring her to open her eyes and face whatever disaster lay ahead.

Vegeta, she thought, shifting slightly as a deep, hungry longing for his touch welled up within her body, rising through her so fast and hard that she thought her heart might shatter under its intensity. She would be all right if he were here. Why wasn’t he here? A tremor slid down her spine. Where was Vegeta?

Images of him, bloody and furious came unbidden to her, and again she felt, for a moment, the cold touch of his mind as she had felt him before. The raging, monstrous feelings swelled through her, brushing her very soul with their black, clinging touch, rising up through her body to clog in her throat until she thought she might choke on them. What was this sickening taste in her mouth? Could it be dread? Was that the feeling that seemed to be settling into the very marrow of her bones?

Vegeta! She called inwardly, seeking him out. Please don’t turn from me. I love you! I want to help you. "Vegeta!"

Had she called for him out loud? The buzzing of their voices was back, louder than ever, and the gravelly voice, a voice she knew but was loathe to respond to, spoke into her ear, uttering words of immense beauty to her:

"Vegeta lives, Bulma."

********

 

Babidi sat in the small, barren room that had been afforded him aboard Koola’s ship, eyes fastened upon the swirling images in his crystal ball. Carefully, he studied the sights inside of it, and most especially he watched Koola.

"Treacherous beast," he muttered angrily. "I open up all that latent power for you, and this is how you treat me." Angrily, the wizened Maosh-jin clenched its fists, shaking them at the ball. "I’ll show you! You don’t cross Babidi and get away with it!"

How would he manage it? He needed Majin Buu to do his dirty work for him. He might have grand mind control powers, but they had done him little good here. The whole idea for enslaving Koola was to gather as much ground as he could while he waited for Buu to be found. If he could pit the universe’s greatest warriors against each other, he would have a wellspring of energy that could be readily stored for future use in awakening Majin Buu.

He sighed, turning his glare back to the changeling whose face glittered in his magic ball. Koola needed to be contained, but by who? He could no longer do it, and he didn’t dare show his face now. He had little doubt that the monster would kill him; though he would lose whatever power he had gained should he do that. Babidi had made that abundantly clear, and he had little doubt that was what was keeping him alive now.

"Ohhh!" he stamped his small foot, anger burning inside him. "I’ll make you pay for this Koola!" If he could find a warrior even remotely close to Koola in power…one that had enough evil in his heart, he could coerce him into giving up his soul and then send him to battle Koola. It would be like killing two birds with one stone, or whatever the old Chikyuu-jin saying was.

His eyes opened wide as the idea took root in his brain. It was the only way to gain back some semblance of control. Surely there couldn’t be another being in the universe with as much willpower as this wretched changeling. "Yes, not only will I get my revenge against Koola for his willful disobedience and threats, but I could accumulate the energy that I need for awakening Buu!" Babidi turned in a circle, small arms thrown up in the air, malicious joy flooding through him. It was a beautiful plan! He need only get off this ship, and make it back to the Saiya-jin ship they had started on. It had been full of delegates and warriors, all trying to iron out where the future of the universe might lie. Dabura had been participating in it with high hopes that they could coerce the weaklings into putting all their faith with Dabura for the preservation of their way of life. He could hardly use himself…his race was a thing of the past, relegated to myth, and their story was hardly pleasant. Very few in the universe would have seen fit to trust him, much less join him. So he had been forced to use Dabura as his front. It had been his master plan to bring the galaxy under his control and it had been working well until they had decided to come and meet with Koola. Yet Dabura was dead, slain by Koola, and now he, Babidi, had no one that he could call upon to defend him, and his interests and plans.

He shrugged carelessly. It mattered little. All he needed was one strong warrior, one that would do his bidding, and then there would be no one that would stop him.

 

*********

"Are you alright, Mom?" Trunks slung a blanket over her shoulders, before stepping back to watch her. She peered into the murky, bubbling waters of the regeneration tank that held Vegeta. Intently, she stared at him, as if she could will him back to consciousness with nothing but her resolve.

"We almost lost him," she murmured, laying a hand against the cold glass.

"But we didn’t," Trunks said firmly, wrapping an arm around her, and staring earnestly into her wide blue eyes. "He’ll be alright. He just needs time to heal." Amazing how they were around each other, he thought. In no time at all, he had fallen into caring for her as if she were the mother he had left behind, and he guessed in some bizarre way, she was. All the qualities were there, just not tempered yet, as they had been in her later years. Still, one couldn’t miss the steely, fire-tinged aura of her spirit. That had never changed, and he supposed that it never would have. Bulma Briefs, as far as he knew, was an unbreakable soul.

Bulma nodded, shifting her gaze to the tank next to him. Inside, floating peacefully, oblivious to the plight of his wife and father, and blissfully unaware of the child that struggled to live within Chi-Chi’s womb was Kakkarot. Toma had told her that he had done this to Vegeta. Of course, he had told her that Vegeta had reciprocated in kind. That had explained the rage she had touched earlier, and it also explained his behavior.

Turning, she walked towards Toma, who sat next to Radditz. Both Saiya-jin wore the same look of incredulous disbelief as they stared at young Future Gohan. If the situation had been any less serious, she might have smiled. It wasn’t often one caught a Saiya-jin off guard…but seeing both Trunks and Gohan all grown up and fresh from another time had certainly done that.

"I just don’t understand it," Toma shook his head, turning his black gaze upon her. "I knew you were a genius, Bulma, but I had no idea you would ever design a time machine." Shaking his head, Toma’s stare showed new regard for her prowess.

Bulma cocked her head, a tiny smile playing on the corner of her mouth. For a moment her eyes sparked with a hint of mischievous blue light. "What can I say, Toma…I’m good."

Smirking Toma nodded. "Far better than I would have ever imagined. His gaze shifted to Trunks and he shook his head. "Things just keep getting more complicated by the minute, don’t they?"

"Those two are going to be in for a surprise," Radditz grinned, though the motion didn’t reach his eyes. It had unsettled him to see his father and he had been left deeply troubled, as if all his youthful beliefs had been shattered and thrown to the wind. He was obviously trying to work things out for himself.

Bulma thought it seemed ironic that such a hard Saiya-jin would have seemingly held his father up as something invincible, but then again, he had surprised her earlier. Bulma had watched him closely, very aware of the tenseness that had permeated their small group as they waited for their friends and loved ones to heal. Yet Radditz had shocked her far more than she cared to admit. She had long ago written him off as true Saiya-jin to the core, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, but she had apparently been very wrong to judge him so narrowly.

Gohan had apparently filled him in on Chi-Chi’s condition, because Radditz had gone to her parent’s quarters to retrieve the Chibi version of his nephew. Gohan had watched in awe, as his Uncle had brought the younger version of himself in and let the child talk to his mother.

Bulma had actually been impressed. Radditz had never struck her as being overly sensitive, but yet…in that one moment, he had shown sensitivity unheard of among Saiya-jin warriors. Bulma guessed wonders would never cease. Perhaps it was the softer touch of his own mate and child that had eased the hard as nails warrior. Chi-Chi was unconscious, but if even a small part of her had sensed her child, had heard or felt him, maybe she would be able to fight through all of the pain and suffering she had been through and come back to them. Somehow Radditz had known that. He apparently wasn’t as thick as she had thought.

"We have a lot to tell, but I don’t want to do it until they can listen," Trunks jerked his head in the direction of the three Saiya-jin warriors confined to the tanks. "I don’t want to have to repeat myself over and over."

"According to the techs," Toma glanced into the young man’s eyes. "Kakkarot should be out in a matter of days. Vegeta…well Vegeta has a few weeks to heal. I guess his internal injuries were far more severe than they first thought. Bardock…" again Toma paused, and Bulma saw the pained, dark shadow that leapt into his eyes. "They don’t know."

"He’ll be alright," Bulma smiled at him. "He has to be."

"Are you sure you told me everything?" Toma’s gaze burned into her, seemingly searing through her carefully maintained defenses to peer right into her thoughts and feelings. Absently she nodded, pulling the edges of the blanket around her chilled shoulders as if she could protect herself from his all-seeing gaze.

"As much as I know and was witness to."

"What did that damn Kannassan do to him?" Radditz queried, cocking his head at Toma. "I knew they had powers, but what could he possibly have done to father?"

"I’m not sure…" Toma shook his head. "We didn’t really spend a lot of time learning about them before Frieza sent us to purge their world."

"I thought a purge was the wipeout of the entire population," Bulma interjected, brows drawn down. "There were plenty of angry survivors left."

"Well technically, it wasn’t a purge. They weren’t cooperating with Frieza and he wanted them brought under his control. So he sent our squadron to deal with it. Our job was to make an impression." Toma stressed the last word. "I’d say we did that, because he never had any more trouble with them that I was aware of."

"I heard Hachuu say something about his gift to him…" Gohan put in, rising to his feet. "I’m not sure what he meant exactly, but I know that it upset Grandfather quite a bit."

"That’s right, I’d forgotten about that,’ Bulma nodded. "He was very upset. I have never seen him that way."

"I don’t know," Toma sighed, moving to stand before the tank. "I guess we won’t know until he wakes up." Turning, he faced Trunks. "And I have no particular desire to wait for weeks while they all heal up. I want to hear your story now. Trouble’s coming…"

Trunks met his gaze soberly before sliding his eyes to his father’s tank. Well at least he knew why it had taken his father so long to go and get his mother from Koola. He had been brought back here to heal. Trunks stared at his young father, who floated peacefully in the tank. He had no real memories of the man…only snippets of a vision here and there. Seeing him again…seeing him…Trunks swallowed hard, something painful twisting in the pit of his belly. What would the Prince think of his grown offspring? What would his reaction be? Would he be proud of him?

Turning back to face Toma, he nodded at the man, pushing all other thought from his mind. There was no point in wondering. It was only making his head spin until he felt like he might be half-mad with all the questions buzzing round and round. He would simply have to wait until Vegeta woke up to find that out. "All right, Toma," he said quietly. "I see your point." Noticing a Saiya-jin tech lurking near them, he frowned. "It is a story best told in private, though."

"We can go to our quarters." Bulma shrugged off the blanket. "I’m hungry anyway." Truth be told she needed to put some distance between her and Vegeta. All she could really think of was the way he had felt…burning hot and filled with a black, malevolent rage. Between that and seeing him motionless, she thought she might go crazy. Perhaps she could hear Trunks story and then get back to work on something. Her cloaking device was waiting for her, if she thought she could concentrate on it at all. Hell, anything at this point would be better than standing in front of these tanks, waiting.

"Alright," Trunks moved to the door. "Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything you want to know."

 

********

 

"Is it done, Bestrom?" Vergerom asked quietly, watching the Prince of Vegitasei float peacefully in the healing waters of a regeneration tank. "Have the arrangements been made?"

Bestrom smiled coolly, laying a hand on Vergerom’s shoulder. "All is set."

"I will not ask for the details," Vergerom remarked dryly. "The less I know, the better…" he paused, turning a cold smile to Bestrom. "For me."

"How long until the Prince awakens? " Bestrom asked nonchalantly, black eyes skimming over the figure.

"A week or so…I have heard that his internal injuries were grave." Vergerom turned his black gaze to the other warriors that floated alongside Vegeta. "All of his most loyal warriors...incapacitated. "That leaves her alone and very…unprotected." A low chuckle burst from his lips.

"Yet when he awakens, he will look for her." Bestrom frowned. "Not to mention that the woman had to have mentioned the threat you made against her son. He will be in a rage…"

"I do not fear him." If he kills me, then he loses his connection to the rest of the people he would rule over. A word from me and they will not join him…they will wage war against him. Even he cannot withstand those odds."

"I would not be so sure, Vergerom." Bestrom retorted softly. "There is much more to the Prince than you or I know."

"Perhaps," Vergerom remarked softly. "It is a chance that I will have to take. With some luck, I will convince him that she was a liar."

"I do not believe that it will be so easy to turn him against her. The Prince has a far stronger will than that. Deny it if you will…but they have a far deeper relationship than you realize."

"Even the strongest of relationships may break," Vergerom turned glittering eyes on Bestrom. "Just watch, Bestrom, you will see. You will see."

Bestrom bowed, acquiescing. "It will be as you say, Vergerom. We will simply make it so."

 

*********

Bulma yawned as she maneuvered her way through the corridors to the medical bay. God, but it had been a long, sleepless night, and she still wasn’t certain that she could fully comprehend all that Trunks had told them in the waning light of her quarters.

A shudder rippled up her spine, leaving the same heavy weight of dread she had felt yesterday abiding deep within her.

She died.

Or at least she had died right after sending her beloved son to this time. How in the hell was she supposed to deal with that? If that wasn’t enough, she had to contend with the wipe out of her planet and family, her husband’s death, and the systematic annihilation of Chikyuu. And this was all from an alternate timeline. She still had to contend with the things that had occurred here…now…

Entering the med bay, she was relieved to see it devoid of all life save the bubbling tanks in the far corners. She hated sitting before the Saiya-jin medical techs that stared and watched her with the barest hint of civility. Vergerom had been successful in turning a great majority of the surviving Saiya-jin against her. Oh, she was all right as long as she stayed away from their Prince and ruler.

Well that was never going to happen. At least it wouldn’t happen in this lifetime. Vegeta was hers and she wasn’t about to let that go, not even for the Saiya-jin race. The past few weeks spent alone, with time to think and agonize had made her relationship with him crystal clear. They were destined to be together, and she was fairly positive that he felt the same way. The only thing left to accomplish was to heal him and help him deal with what had occurred in his quest to save Trunks

Standing before the tanks, she stared at him for a long, silent moment, willing him with every ounce of energy she had to give her some sign he was all right. Toma had told her he was healing well, and that it would take time, but she didn’t want to wait any longer. She didn’t want to sleep in her bed alone anymore, and after everything that had occurred to the both of them, she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong arms around her. His steely embrace would be the final assurance that all would be well. Strong as she was, she still needed that…

Cursing, she berated herself for the admitted weakness. When had she become so weak and dependent on him? She was strong; she had survived much in her life. She could survive this, too. Vegeta did not want a clinging vine attached to him, and if she kept this up, that was exactly what she would be. She had to be patient and trust in his ability to heal. She had to take her mind off of this.

Her work would go a long way to helping her out. She had always found solace in work. Creating and designing brought her simple pleasure and sometimes, if she were lucky, she could lose herself completely in the complexity of the work. She still had her cloaking device to perfect and it would seem, based on the things that Trunks had spoken of that it would be necessary in this oncoming battle with Koola.

Pressing a hand against the glass of the tank, she watched Vegeta for a moment more. Yes, she would do that. She would go and start getting some things ready for the battles to come. If Vegeta would have to take front and center in this war, she would be sure that he had the best of her work to go with him. Anything to help keep him alive, though it appeared that it was this Chikyuu-jin Doctor and his creations that she would need to worry about the most. They were the ones that had brought Vegeta down.

Still, according to Trunks, things were changing on a regular basis since his trip back in time and who knew how this battle would be affected. Anything could happen to Vegeta in it and it was a risk she was unwilling to take.

Resolve flowing through her, she whirled, ready to go and lose herself in the work that awaited her. It was the only thing she could possibly do and it would be something useful for their future.

Halfway to the door, it was the sudden, blaring sound of an alarm that stopped her in her tracks. The tanks! One of them was ready! Whirling back, she found herself staring into twin pools of ebony that watched her intently from within the confines of the draining tank. They were watchful, alert and slightly haunted as if some demon still lurked somewhere within him. Or perhaps it was simple disorientation from tank.

"Bardock!" Bulma gave a small cry, before finally stumbling back to the tank to aid him. Fingers flying, she keyed in the codes that would open the tank and release him completely. Biting her lip, she glanced around, wondering where the techs were. What kind of med bay was left completely deserted?

He stepped from the tank, flaring his ki to dry the wetness from his skin.

"Bardock?" Bulma queried hesitantly, watching his frowning countenance closely. He looked so intense and brooding, and he had yet to fully acknowledge her. What was troubling him? "Bardock, are you alright?"

Head jerking up, he met her eyes, and she furrowed her brows at the vulnerability that shone from them. In the past, she had only ever seen him as strong and immoveable, intense and determined all at the same time. Never had she seen such a look of open emotion from him, and the sight of it shocked her to the core of her body.

Lifting a hand to him, and suddenly, acutely aware of his nudity, she repeated herself. "Are you okay?"

With a harsh groan, Bardock reached for her, yanking her to him and clinging to her as if his life depended on it. "Tell me it was all a dream," he rasped into her ear, breath hot against her skin. "Tell me that Kannassa was nothing but a dream."

Pressed against the hard plane of his naked body, Bulma had a hard time breathing, let alone speaking. Finally, finding her voice, she whispered: "N-no, Bardock…it was all real."

"The boys?" his grip tightened and she gave a little involuntary cry from the force of his strength.

"They were very real," she choked out, trying to loosen his seemingly impenetrable grip. "They were real."

"God…" he breathed, relaxing his hold on her. "How is it possible, Bulma? How is it that they can come back from the future?"

Able to look up at him, and still acutely aware of his nudity and how this would look if anyone decided to come into the med bay, Bulma tried to push him back, though somewhere deep down within herself, she was loathe to end the contact. He felt good. He was warm and solid—altogether alive, and she found at that moment alive was exactly what she needed. It was because of that, that she needed to break the grip, get him dressed and surround them with as many people as she could. She was vulnerable right now and smart enough to realize it. There were roads she just wasn’t willing to travel down and Bardock was one of those. She could hardly understand why he could affect her the way he did from time to time, or how he did it, all she knew was that there was some small spark between them…a spark begging to be lit and it was something she would never light flame to.

"It’s a long story," she said quietly, staring up into the endless black of his eyes. "And one that shouldn’t come from me." Clearing her throat, she shoved at him. "You need to let me go and get dressed so you can hear it." Bulma shuddered involuntarily as his hand slid down to the small of her back, gently massaging. Yet it was hardly something he was conscious of doing. She could see that with one look into his eyes. Something still hung over him, and the motion of his hand against her was nervous and shaky. It was almost as if the motion—the very action of his hand, reassured him in some small, token way.

"I don’t want to let go," he whispered huskily, eyes locking onto hers. "After the things I’ve seen, I don’t want to let you go…" his voice trailed off, and Bulma frowned, concern flooding through her at the fevered glint in his eyes. Whatever had happened to him, whatever he had seen, had affected him gravely. He clung to her like a man possessed, and that a man as hard and impenetrable as Bardock could be reduced to such a state scared her.

"What’s wrong, Bardock?" she asked again, gripping his shoulders tightly, and leaning close to peer into his eyes. "What’s happened? This has something to do with Hachuu and what he did to you, doesn’t it?"

Bardock stared at her for a long moment, and she could almost see the inner debate warring inside of him as to what he should tell her. Frowning, she leaned close, touching her forehead to his. "You can tell me, Bardock…"

She felt his grip on her tighten and this time she didn’t struggle as his arms wrapped tightly around her and drew her against his body. His gaze never wavering as he looked into her eyes, searching…for what she had no idea. Heart thudding like a drum, she tried not to panic under his probing gaze.

Bardock said nothing for a long moment, simply leaning his forehead against hers tiredly before suddenly pushing her away from him. She felt his muscles relax against her, and for a moment she thought he might be giving into the desire to share his thoughts with her before he stiffened suddenly and jerked away. "No!" he said sharply. "There is nothing to tell. Merely dreams induced by the tank…" Running a hand through his black, spiky hair, he took a step back from her. " We are back on the Saiya-jin ship?"

Confused, Bulma stared at him, lost for words. What had happened to rattle him so? Blinking, trying to still her racing heart, she shook her head. Seeing this from a man she had come to depend on completely for his rigid control frightened her to the core. "Y-yes…we all made it back days ago, and Vegeta and Kakkarot…" she trailed off, casting her eyes towards the tanks that rested alongside his.

Bardock’s eyes followed her gaze and she heard the sharp intake of breath. "Kakkarot, Vegeta…what happened?"

"They fought on Calonia. Toma can tell you more. He saw it first hand," turning, Bulma would have moved to the comsystem to call Toma, but Bardock’s hand wrapping around her wrist stopped her.

"Not yet," he said quietly, striding towards the supply locker and pulling her along with him. Reaching in, he yanked out a blanket. "First I want you to take me to get some clothes." Releasing her, he wrapped the blanket around his waist. "If I have to face everyone…if I am going to see my future grandson, he will see me as the warrior that I am…not naked like a babe."

There was the tough as nails Bardock that she knew. Gradually she felt her heart rate slow, and her breathing came easier. This was the Bardock that she was most familiar with, the Bardock that was her friend. The other Bardock, the aching, vulnerable, lost Bardock scared her and touched her in a way that she couldn’t fathom. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she drew in a shuddering breath. She had to come to terms with all of this and find ways to deal with it.

Opening her eyes, she pressed her lips together and nodded at him. She would analyze it all later, when she was alone and had time and the privacy to think clearly. Right now, there were more important things to worry about, and her attraction to the needy side of Bardock was not top on the priority list. " Let’s go. I have a fresh supply of Saiya-jin armor in my lab."

Bardock’s mouth curved upwards into a sudden light smile. "You’ve always had what I needed, Bulma." He watched her face flush red at his remark, and his smirked broadened. "Make the call to Toma," he breathed out, watching her closely. "Tell him to meet us in ten minutes at your lab. That should give me all the time I need to dress."

"You hope," Bulma threw the quip to him, reacting as she always did. There banter was second nature to her, and to be able to do it…after everything else made her feel better—as if the situation were back in her control. His words…they confused her and left her… she couldn’t describe it. All she knew was that she needed to get away from him and this strange aura that seemed to have clouded around him.

Bardock merely inclined his head and watched as she moved to the comm. His lips drew down into a frown as his mind was drawn back to the assortment of sights and images he had been assaulted with since Kannassa. The things he had been shown…mouth dry, he tightened the blanket around his waist, resisting the urge to go to her and shelter her from the hell that he had seen. She would suffer…if Hachuu had been telling the truth; if he had truly been gifted with the sight…then the things he had seen were the future.

Shutting his eyes, he swayed momentarily, trying to force away the sudden icy chill that had invaded his blood and spread throughout his body. He had to sit down and talk to Toma. Toma was the only one he could trust the monstrous visions with. Watching Bulma’s animated chat with Toma, he felt a pang of regret stab into his heart. He could trust her…he had always been able to trust her. The connection between them had been instant and strong, but yet…to tell her such things…

Twisting his lips into a hard grimace, he toughened himself. No, he could not do that to her, not now. He had no right to burden her with something so heavy until he, himself, was sure of what had happened to him, and what he was seeing. After that, well after that he would do whatever he could to protect the people that meant something to him, and she fit under that heading, far more than he cared to admit.

His eyes shifted to the tanks, observing Vegeta and Kakkarot. There battle—he had seen their battle… Flicking his gaze over his son, assuring himself that the brat would make a good recovery, he turned his heavy, black gaze to Vegeta and frowned.

He had seen… frowning he broke off the train of his thought and stared more intently at the boy, taking in every nuance of his face. Even in healing sleep, it held a look of steely discipline that he found amazing, and there was something else there…some deep rage that was imbedded within the very lines of his face. How he could see that he had no idea, but it was there as plain as day to him. Perhaps it were the images he had seen…the monstrous rage that had seemed to light Vegeta from within… the strange, scrawling M that had been imprinted upon his forehead. It had glowed red like hot coals and his black eyes had been cold and dead, lit only by the fires of pain and revenge.

"Bardock," Bulma’s lilting voice reached him through the fog of thoughts clouding his head and he turned to look at her, seeing again the horrible images he had been given of her in his dreams. He would protect her at all costs. Turning his head once again towards Vegeta, he frowned. Even if that meant protecting her from her own mate.

"Hey," she came to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "If you want to get dressed before they get to my lab, we need to go. "Toma is rounding every one up…" she winked at him, forcing their earlier interaction to the back of her mind. "He’s hell-bent to get to you as soon as possible. He was pretty worried about you."

Bardock felt something akin to relief shoot through him at the sound of Toma’s name. Toma, his friend…no, brother fit better. They had served too many years and been through too much hell together for their relationship to be cemented in anything else but blood. Toma would listen to him, and Toma would help him understand what it was he had to do.

"I’m ready," he said firmly. "Let’s go."

 

**********

"Lord Koola," Sauzza bowed low before his changeling lord. "I await your orders."

Koola smiled down at the blue-skinned mercenary from his hover chair. It was a cold smile, full of condescension and latent rage. "I have decided to make war, Sauzza. My men seem unable to capture the Saiya-jin and his whore. The smile twisted downwards, shifting into an ugly sneer. "And why should I, strongest being in the universe and heir to my father’s legacy sit and wait for them to fall into my lap?"

"There are rumors of a ship, my Lord—a ship that houses the surviving members of the Saiya-jin race, including Vegeta. We could take it."

"Yes, I am well aware of the ship," there seemed no point in mentioning to his subordinate that he had his own people aboard the ship…Saiya-jin willing to spy. They had, however, kept him well informed on the status of Vegeta. The only thing he could not figure out, and it maddened him a little more every day, was the exact location of the ship. It had been kept from him. Even his spies didn’t know, so tight was the security. Apparently, Vegeta had completely taken over, issuing commands that only a select few would know the exact coordinates of the ship and its destination.

Koola’s fist clenched. Vegeta was far smarter than he had given him credit for. Smart enough to know he could trust very few. Still, his luck would run out…eventually.

"I have a more interesting plan, Sauzza," Koola rasped after a moment. "Correnia is the planet that the lovely Princess hails from…" he paused, sweeping his cold eyes over Sauzza. "How fast do you think she would come running if we made war, starting with her precious planet."

"Do you mean to have her sacrifice herself for the welfare of her planet?" Sauzza blinked, before a slow smile twisted on his face.

"Of course," Koola hovered close to Sauzza, smirking into his blue face. "Of course, her planet is still going to be destroyed, but she hardly needs to know that. All she needs to know is that the suffering of her people and her family will end once I have her in my custody. Then, once we have her, it is only a matter of time before we have Vegeta. Without him, the rest of the Saiya-jin race will fall and I will exact my revenge for the slaughter of my father and brother."

"The universe will be yours, my lord," Sauzza grinned broadly.

"What do you mean, ‘will be mine’?" Koola snorted impatiently. "It already is. I need only to exert the full force of my strength and the systems will fall like dominoes. Then, once I break that insufferable Namekkian, I will use the Dragonballs for immortality. There is no one who will stop me." Koola laughed deeply.

"We will need to travel back to Reiketsu before we attack Correnia, Lord," Sauzza said timidly. "We didn’t bring nearly enough of your soldiers to take Correnia. It is my understanding that they are equal to our mercenaries in strength and skill."

"Are you telling me that you cannot defeat half a planet by yourself?" Koola chuckled derisively. "That is a surprise, Sauzza. I thought you were far stronger than that. "

"I am, Lord Koola!" Sauzza straightened. "I was just concerned for the rest of the soldiers."

"You have plenty of warriors that are more than strong enough to take on anything Correnia throws at you. We will make no return trip to Reiketsu." Whirling his hover chair around, Koola barked orders to his pilot: "Set a course for Correnia!"

"Yes, Lord!" The pilot shifted in his seat, punching in numbers to his navigational computers.

"It will take us some time to get there," Koola spoke coolly, turning back to Sauzza. "A week, I do believe. You have that amount of time to prepare all the men for battle."

*************

 

"What do you mean you are having visions?" Toma stared intently at Bardock, watching as the other Saiya-jin stared down at Chi-Chi. "How in the hell is that even possible? None of our research on the Kannassans ever showed they had the capabilities to pass along their talents."

"How in the hell should I know?" Bardock turned stark eyes on Toma. "All I know is that it happened…to me!" His words ended with a growl, and he whirled stalking away from his friend and daughter-in-law. "Do you think I haven’t wracked my brain trying to figure out if I have completely lost it? My brain is filled with images and none of them are particularly good. My mind has been descended into a hell, Toma…"

"Perhaps you are delusional from your experiences?" Toma wished he had never uttered the remark. Cold black eyes turned towards him, pinning him with a dark glare. "I have been through far worse in my lifetime, friend…" the words flowed from him, tinged with bitterness. "And I have yet to lose my mind from a few paltry tortures. How dare you insinuate that I would lose my wits now?"

Toma raised his hands in a calming gesture. "I’m sorry," he whispered hoarsely, stunned by the levels of despair and anger that he could feel emanating from Bardock. "I merely seek to discard all possible causes. Such a thing…" he shook his head, pausing for a moment. "What you are asking me to believe is…" He clamped his mouth shut, studying Bardock’s brooding figure for a moment. Something had changed him. They had shut themselves up in Bulma’s lab yesterday, the entire group of them, and Bardock had merely listened to Trunks’ grim future, saying nothing, offering no opinions…merely brooding like a caged wildcat. They had been unable to talk yesterday, but today, Bardock had drug him from his rooms, bringing him back to Bulma’s lab. It was early still, Bulma had yet to awaken, and the lab was deserted. The tale that Bardock had given him was more than he could wrap his mind around, yet Toma could hardly deny the madness that was eating at his friend and brother, could hardly deny that he trusted Bardock completely and if Bardock said this thing had happened to him, Toma was loathe to disbelieve that. He had certainly been able to describe a battle he had not been present to witness. That spoke volumes.

"It could be used as a gift," Toma spoke quietly, not wanting to upset Bardock’s volatile mood any further that it had already been. He had been rattled deeply by Chi-Chi’s state, and had sunk into blaming himself for her condition. Nothing Toma could say seemed to reach him…

"Gift?" Bardock’s lips curled upwards. "It is torture. I haven’t a clue on how to interpret these images…" he shook his head. "It is as if I have been cut adrift in some black, empty tunnel, and around me they buzz…incessant, relentless, determined to be seen, whether I wish them to be or not." He sank into a chair, burying his face in his hands. "I have no idea what to do with them or how to use them."

"Bardock," Toma knelt beside him, laying a hand upon the troubled man’s shoulder. "We have been together through much… I will help you deal with this…we will figure this out…I swear to you as your friend and brother. You have saved my life on more than one occasion. This time, I will help you."

Bardock lifted his head, peering into Toma’s black eyes. "Yet you do not believe what I tell you?"

"If you say this thing has happened to you, I will believe. I will not turn from you and leave you to figure this out on your own. If there is any way we can use this to aid us…anyway we might be able to harness this and use it to prevent the future that Trunks and Gohan have given to us, than we will do so, and we will do it as we have always done things—together. The rest of our squad may be gone, but the spirit of the warriors we were and still are remains the same. We are Saiya-jin brothers, my friend."

Bardock heaved a heavy breath before seeming to collapse back against the chair. "My friend…" he whispered quietly. " I had hoped to hear such words from you."

"When have we ever let the other down?" Toma stood, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"This is far more difficult a trouble than I have ever faced before," Bardock sighed. "To be given such a thing, to be tasked with such a chore…yet it is hardly enough to ever atone for what I did to that race. If I had been alone on Kannassa, I would have let Hachuu kill me…my blood for the blood of his…

Toma turned his head towards Chi-Chi. "That would have solved nothing. As it is, your blood is paying a price now…let us hope that the child within her belly lives."

"Yes," Bardock murmured, staring at the lifeless woman. "Let us hope."

 

**********

Kakkarot couldn’t be sure what it was that tugged him awake. He had the vague memory of a distant voice…a small child calling for him, calling for his help. Whatever it was, it haunted him, and he searched for it.

He was in a regeneration tank…he could sense that much. He was warm and peaceful and his body was light as a feather. How had he gotten here? What battle had sent him to the tank? They must have been a worthy opponent to beat him into such a state.

A faint flash of memory blurred in his brain and for half a second Vegeta’s angry visage caught his attention. Rage…he could feel that, but he wasn’t sure if it was his or the Prince’s. Had Vegeta done this to him? Dammit, why couldn’t he remember?

Again, the child’s voice called for him, and he jerked, straining to find it, to identify it. What was he hearing and why was he filled with such feeling of deep melancholia? What was this sudden sadness and despair?

Around him, he felt the water begin to drain and the whirring of machinery as the tank slid open.

"Brat," a deep, firm voice, one he had heard before—a memory from his childhood perhaps, filled his dulled senses and he cracked his eyes open, blinking rapidly as sterile white light filled them. Slowly, his vision returned, and he stared into the frowning face of his father, Toma behind him.

"Looks like he decided to finally grace us with his presence," Toma drawled, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. "About damn time." Shaking his head, he stared into Kakkarot’s black eyes. "You are a lot of trouble, boy."

"There will be time enough to discuss that later. Right now, there is someone who needs you." His father grasped his arm, pulling him from the tank. There was something in his voice, something that scared Kakkarot to his soul.

"Who needs me?" he croaked, sudden dread filling him. The despair was back, and such a lonely sadness he thought he might break from the pressing weight of it. He had never felt like this before, not even during the worst times on Frieza’s mercenary ships. So why was he feeling this way now? What could be causing this?

"Your wife and child."

***********

 

"How long has he been sitting there?" Bulma stood beside Bardock, arms crossed over her chest.

"Three days since he emerged from the tank," Bardock replied, turning to stare down at the blue-haired figure beside him. "He blames himself for her condition, I can tell."

Bulma pursed her lips. "She should have been awake by now. They have been putting nutrients and water in her for days now…she should have been better."

"She will awaken," Bardock said tonelessly. "She is a strong woman, a born fighter. She will not die."

"I hope you’re right," sadly, Bulma moved from the doorway of the room. Bardock followed, walking with her towards Vegeta who floated in the regen tank. He watched as she stared morosely into the blue water.

"He will awaken as well. He is too stubborn to die." Bardock inhaled softly at the images that suddenly assaulted him…memories of the horror that had been shown him, sparked by the sight of the Prince. Could he stop them? Could he prevent all of the horror from happening? He seriously doubted Vegeta would listen to a word he had to say; yet so much of what he had seen seemed to revolve around the Saiya-jin Prince.

Bulma smiled lightly, laying a hand against the cool glass. "I know. Yet, I haven’t the first clue on how I am going to explain all of this to him…" she shook her head. "And from what I have been told by Toma, he is going to be after Kakkarot’s blood. How in the hell am I going to stop that from happening? We need them both…he can’t kill Kakkarot…and then there is Trunks." Heaving a heavy sigh, she slid into a chair. "How did things ever get so complicated, Bardock?"

Bardock smiled lightly, eyes fastened on Vegeta’s tank. "When haven’t they been? This is the life of a Saiya-jin, Bulma. There is rarely peace and happiness, merely battle and strife."

"Doesn’t sound like a very happy way to live," Bulma’s lips pouted sulkily, and for a moment, Bardock felt the urge to caress his hands over it. It burned through him like a wildfire, but he refrained. He could not act upon such urges. Protect her with his life…he would, be her friend, he would try, but she did not want him in the way he cared for her. Her heart was wrapped up in the warrior that floated before him. He could confuse her, make her feel some spark of desire, but it was not her heart and soul he would get, and he could not live with himself if he caused her distress. She was the bond mate of the Prince of the Saiya-jin and that was as it should be.

"Say that to him when he emerges from that tank. He may lay with you, Bulma, and he may be bonded to you, but the call of a good battle sings in his blood. He is no more able to turn from that song than a moth could turn from the burning flame."

Bulma frowned, narrowing her eyes menacingly. "So you’re saying he would discard me in a heartbeat should a good battle come along." There was a mighty one coming, though this one she would be fighting alongside him. She had little choice.

"He could never leave you, Bulma. He is bonded to you, you are his chosen mate…you should well know whatever heart that brat has. You knew what he was when you took him on, you knew all of him, and he will force you to live with it. Vegeta will give no quarter."

"I do know what he is," she replied testily, standing and pursing her full lips angrily. "And I did accept it, completely. I love him."

"Don’t get cranky with me, Bulma," Bardock felt a grin tugging at his lips. She was so easy to rile up. "You are good for him, and if anyone has any chance of talking him out killing Kakkarot, it is you.

"Does Kakkarot know about Gohan yet?" Bulma shifted the topic, her mind latching onto his words. Bardock was surly today, though she welcomed it over the needy, vulnerable Bardock she had seen days ago. That one confused her and in her own vulnerable state right now, might lead her down a path she had no wish to go down.

"He has been focused on Chi-Chi and her child." Bardock frowned thoughtfully, turning his head back to the door. "There hasn’t been time."

"I have been working on the cloaking devices, Bardock…" Bulma stood, turning her back to the tank.

"I know, Gohan has kept me filled in on your progress." Bardock smiled. "It heartens me to see you working again. Your intelligence and inventions are sorely needed now."

Bulma smiled softly, running a pale hand through her long, blue tresses. "Well, it is always better to work with you, Bardock. We made a good team."

"Yes, we do…" Bardock trailed off, stopping the sudden flow of thoughts those words led him down. They were far too good a team…in every way.

Bulma blushed, seeming to sense the direction of his thoughts. "The reason I bring this up…" biting her lip, she turned towards Vegeta. "Well, there is a part that I needed, a part that all my research says can only be bought on Yardrat…"

"So send someone to acquire it for you," Bardock shrugged his wide shoulders.

"I think I might have a temporary solution to the problem of Vegeta and Kakkarot. Gohan mentioned that there was some technique his father learned how to do…he wouldn’t say too much about it, but when I mentioned Yardrat, he mentioned it. It seems Kakkarot learned the technique on Yardrat, from the locals there. Perhaps we could send Kakkarot there…for the time being…to pick up the part."

"Gohan mentioned it to me as well. He told me that Kakkarot crash landed, Bulma…I’m not sure we should be messing with the future too much. Kakkarot will find his way to Yardrat when he is meant to."

"I’m not sure I can keep Vegeta from him, Bardock," Bulma hissed, jamming her hands against her hips. "Right now, this might be our only hope of averting a disaster."

Bardock stared down at her, black eyes going hard. "If you lay it before Vegeta, he will make a wise choice. He will set aside his vengeance for another day."

"Maybe, but we can’t bet on that right now. You know his temper and he lost a lot more here than just his tail. I felt the rage that was inside of him…I felt it firsthand and I don’t know if anyone can control that…" shuddering, Bulma turned back to the tank, staring intently into Vegeta’s face. "It scared me, Bardock…not just for me or the people around him, but for him… what if he loses himself to that?"

"He is a strong man, Bulma…a disciplined man. He will find a way." Bardock shut his eyes against the memory of the things he had seen. What she was saying…it fit too well with the things he had seen. What if she was right? No! He had to believe that they could bring Vegeta under control. He had to hope she could handle the Prince. The thought of a Vegeta beyond that…lost in his despair and rage…

Needing to get away, Bardock turned from her. "I’m going to check on Kakkarot. See if there is any change in Chi-Chi. You should get away from here, go rest…you’ll need it. There are hard times coming to us."

Bulma watched, perplexed, as he strode away. What had come over him? One moment he was teasing, another moment, lost and brooding. Was he that worried?

Turning her head back to the tank, she rested her hand against the cool glass. "Oh Vegeta, what are we going to do?" Shutting her eyes, she rested her head against the glass. "What are we going to do?

 

**********

"Have you spoken to your father yet?" Trunks asked quietly, studying Gohan’s face intently. They had been standing in front of the observatory window, marveling at the miracle of their trip back into the past. So much had happened in such a short span of time. It was almost more than either of them could comprehend and for a moment he was awed again by his mother’s accomplishments. That such gifts had been stolen from the world before they should have… Trunks choked, averting his eyes before Gohan could see the glimmer of his tears. Now wasn’t the time to be breaking down. Too many people were counting on him, not the least of which was his dead mother. She had sacrificed herself so that he could make this trip and change things. He wouldn’t let her down.

Gohan yawned broadly and ran a hand over his face. "No, not yet. Grandfather Bardock thinks we should give him time to reach my mother." Gohan blinked sadly. "He wants to wait to tell father everything until he can focus his mind on it completely."

"That’s probably not a bad idea," Trunks yawned as well, suddenly drained of energy and keenly aware of the late hour. How long had they been standing here? He had seen his young mother briefly at the med bay before she had left for her labs, and the sudden desire to see her now, to speak with her again…to hear her voice. Her voice always reassured him. He supposed that was what a mother was supposed to do. Perhaps seeing her could remind him of all the things he was fighting for. Seeing her playing with his past self…it filled him with an emotion he could barely recognize—joy. He had not been there to save her in the past, but this time he would help her, he this time things would be different.

"I agreed. By then maybe your father will be ready. I don’t know that I can repeat myself too many more times." Gohan turned towards Trunks, black eyes shining brightly. "Your father…seeing him…after all I’ve heard…it’s amazing Trunks."

"Yeah," Trunks blinked. "It scares me a bit, though, to have to face a legend. I mean what if he doesn’t like me, Gohan, or what if he sees me lacking in some way?"

"Trunks," Gohan laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "He is your father. Legend or not, Prince of the Saiya-jin or not, he won’t find you lacking."

"Yeah…" Trunks trailed off. "I was going to go find Mom and talk to her a bit…see what she thinks…" Perhaps after seeing her, he could find some time to read the Journal. He was dying to know what had happened to her after she had been taken to Koola’s planet…and had his father been able to reach her? Every little bit he read helped him in this time. He had to know more. It might help him second-guess Koola and who knew what she had written in regards to the Artificial Humans. The Journal was a treasure trove of vital information he could ill-afford to discard or ignore.

"You’re worrying about nothing." Gohan shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants, and turned towards the corridor. "But I guess you’ll just have to find that out all on your own."

"I can’t explain it, Gohan," Trunks moved to follow his friend. "It’s this strange feeling I have…something I can’t quite grasp, but can feel all the same." It was some weird sense of foreboding, but he could hardly understand it or where it had come from. All he knew was that it had been eating at him for awhile now, and it seemed to be growing more with each passing day.

"I know," Gohan said softly "I feel it to."

"What?" Trunks stopped him, blue eyes burning intensely.

"There’s something hanging in the air, but I’m not sure what it means. For all I know it’s just the specter of Koola hanging over us, or perhaps I’m still focused on Gero and the Artificial Humans…" shrugging, he began walking again. "Whatever it is, we can’t let it rule over us. You know that."

"Yeah…" troubled, Trunks followed him. "I suppose you’re right…it’s just for me; it’s been so thick and heavy—suffocating really. I can’t seem to shake it."

"What… you mean it’s my turn to reassure you?" stopping before his door, Gohan turned to Trunks, a small half-smile playing on his lips, eyes open wide with mock incredulity. "You’re usually the unflappable one, Trunks."

Trunks gave a snort. "I suppose we all have moments of weakness."

Gohan keyed in the security code to the rooms he now occupied with Bardock. "Maybe…but as long as I have known you, Trunks…" Gohan paused before entering the room, turning back to meet Trunks ice-blue eyes. "You’ve been the strongest person I know."

 

***********

Kakkarot. Where was he? Vegeta stepped from the tank into the dimly lit medical bay of the ship. Apparently they had been brought back to the ship. A cursory check found his mate and he breathed a sigh of relief, much to his annoyance. That he, a Saiya-jin warrior would worry so much over the well-being of a human… shaking his head, he flared his ki drying himself instantly. Rummaging through the supply racks he found a thermal blanket and wrapped it round his waist, leaving his chest bare. It would be good enough until he made it to his quarters.

She wasn’t just any human and he knew it. Another check and he located his son… frowning, he furrowed his brow. Why was he picking up Trunks energy signature in two different places at the same time? What in the hell was going on?

His woman had been here daily…he had felt her presence constantly and though he hated himself for needing her, for noticing her presence at all, he knew that he could no longer go back where she was concerned. She was in his blood and there was seemingly no way to purge her. He doubted he would have the willpower to do so, and that single thought enraged him more than he had ever thought possible.

Kakkarot…now there was some unfinished business. Sneering he sought the familiar energy out, surprised to find it relatively near to where he was. Seeking it out, he stopped in the doorway to one of the private recovery rooms.

"Kakkarot," he rasped under his breath, so low the third class had apparently not even heard. How pathetic was that? He sat beside a bed, apparently keeping vigil over his loud-mouthed wife, oblivious to anything that might be occurring around him.

The desire to strike the bastard in the back, to pierce his heart, nearly overwhelmed him and he felt another surge of rage and pain swell over him. He owed the bastard so much. He had stolen his tail…his honor and pride and that knowledge burned in him like a raging inferno, blackening his soul. Raising his palm, he held it up fighting to control the violent emotions that were about to engulf him.

Vegeta watched as the third class raised his head and he gasped as eyes as black as night met his, dull and empty…heavy with emotions that Vegeta did not want to contemplate.

"You’re back." It was a statement, spoken tonelessly and Vegeta felt a surge of revulsion at the idiot’s face.

"What was your first clue?" he sneered in irritation.

"You want to kill me." Another fact stated calmly and coolly.

Vegeta felt his muscles tense and a fine tremor ran through them, straight to the flat soles of his feet. Fighting to keep his voice steady, Vegeta replied shortly. "I will see you dead, Kakkarot, but I will not come at you from your backside, nor will I fight you while you are half-dead. You will meet me and I will defeat you at your prime and you will feel my wrath…every single measure of it and you will know what it is to feel pain and suffering."

Kakkarot stared at him for a moment, eyes blank before nodding shortly. "We will fight with honor, Vegeta, and all will be decided between us. I give you my word that when the time is right, I will meet you in combat."

"Your words are meaningless to me, Kakkarot. You do not know the meaning of honor, so do not speak as if you do. You shame the Saiya-jin race." Shaking, Vegeta turned from the third class, anger and frustration boiling and festering within him. Fisting his hand, he raised it before his face. "Your time is running out, Kakkarot, so prepare."

Whirling, he stalked from the room, eyes heavy and brooding. Bulma would appease him now. Bulma was the only person that could possibly ease this turmoil from him. He didn’t have to share his mind with her, merely his body. He could still keep the discipline he would need to kill Kakkarot and reclaim the pride that had been stolen from him.

Stalking out of the med bay and through the corridors, he allowed his anger full sway over his body. His woman would try to interfere, just as she always had. This time, though she would know her place and she would not hold him back. She had his body and she had his protection, but she would not have his mind…not now. Kakkarot was his objective and there was no one who would stop him from finally finishing the bastard off.

"Let them try." He growled under his breath. "Just let them try."

 

 

 

 

********

God she was tired. Hours spent in the med bay staring at Vegeta, hours in her lab working her fingers to the bone, and at least a good hour tonight trying to reassure her Future son that his father would be very proud of him. It had been a long day to say the least, and what was sad was that it was beginning to become a typical day in her life. They were blurring together anymore. Day after day she trudged to the med bay, heart filled with some hope that Vegeta might be ready to come out of it. Though there was a part of her that dreaded it…dreaded the feelings she had felt inside of him…dreaded trying to convince him that he couldn’t act on his rage. He was different, in her heart she knew it, had sensed it before his immersion into the tank.

There was something between him and Kakkarot, something she could sense. It was some underlying tension that beat palpably between them. It could be traced back years, she realized…to Frieza. The relationship had never quite bounced back from things that had happened in the past, and Kakkarot’s achieving Super Saiya-jin status; something that Vegeta believed only his blood was worthy of achieving had not helped things. It had eaten at Vegeta, day after day. He had begun to train relentlessly, slowly becoming consumed with the desire to stay ahead of Kakkarot at all costs, driving himself harder and harder each day. There might have even been a little bit of resentment towards her. She wasn’t sure she completely understood why, but who knew exactly what went on in the mind of Saiya-jin. She did know that she had spent the past few years ignoring it, pretending that it was nothing serious, but suddenly she found that ignoring it was no longer an option. It was in her face front and center, or at least it would be when he came out of the tank.

Growling under her breath, she grabbed up her brush, raking it through the tangled silk of her hair. She would figure out something. She had to, she always did. She was Bulma Briefs, and she had yet to meet the problem that had defeated her. She had to bear that in mind and quit wallowing in her fear and despair.

Something prickled suddenly, along her spine, sending an icy chill to the tip of her toes and she whirled, gasping at the sight of the figure that stood cloaked in the shadows. Drawing her robe around herself tightly, she drew herself upright, standing straight and regal, wielding her hairbrush as if it were a weapon. "Who are you? What are you doing in my quarters?"

"Your quarters?" The voice taunted and she nearly fainted at the familiar harsh tones that raked over her senses like hot coals. When had he emerged from the tank? Why hadn’t she known? Why hadn’t she felt it? The thoughts raced through her mind in a jumbled cluster even as he stepped from the shadows to rake his eyes over her silk clad figure. "Last time I checked I was allowing you to share mine."

"Vegeta…" she staggered forward a step…numb…heart thudding against her chest like a drum, certain that the shock of seeing him, fierce and alive in front of her would send her to her knees. Something hot and wet burned against her eyes, but she gave it little heed. "I just came from you…you weren’t awake…what, when…" she trailed off, reaching a pale, trembling hand towards him, unmindful of the tears that were burning trails down her cheeks. He would hate them, he always hated them…but right now, all she cared about was touching that hard, strong body. She needed to assure herself that it was him, that it wasn’t her mind finally breaking in half and sending her into delirium.

"Your inability to sense when you are not alone troubles me woman." The voice was ragged…the tones were harsh and brooding, and the same rage that had flown through her body before touched her now, but she couldn’t turn away from him. There was something in his voice…some need she could both feel and hear.

Her hand brushed against the hard, hot flesh of his bare chest and she flattened her palm against it. The beat of his heart drummed against her, and she gave a little hiccup, trying desperately to bring herself under some semblance of control. "God, I’m glad you are alright."

She felt something brush against her hand and then she was against him, yanked to him with a barely controlled force. "I am far from alright, woman…but you will make me…" he broke off and she felt the seething rage burning up inside of him until she thought she might scream from the sheer intensity of it.

"Of course I will," she whispered huskily, pressing her lips against his, melting against him. She would distract him if she had to, see if she could reach whatever part of him was harboring such pent-up wrath. If she could just reach him, soothe him, he might be all right.

Vegeta groaned raggedly against her mouth and for a moment Bulma felt him lean against her, felt his mind as it gave into his need for her touch. And then, as quickly as it had happened, his mind and thoughts were gone and she was shoved away from him, pushed back towards the wall.

"No," he rasped hoarsely. "I will not give into my weakness."

"Since when have I become a weakness, Vegeta?" Hands on hips, she stood tall, blue eyes flashing. "When have I ever been a weakness to you?" Turning away, she swallowed down the hurtful words she would have said and thrown in his face. Not now…he had just come back to her, she would not push him away now. She had to stay in control.

Vegeta stared at her for a long moment, intoxicated for a moment at the beauty of her fury. She was his match and time and again, she proved it. He had felt her through his entire healing process, felt her hovering, felt her every mood…and when he had awoken a short while ago and exited the tank, she had been the first person he had sought out. The damnable need to see her, to touch her had overwhelmed everything else, until, much to his fury, he had found himself standing behind her, sensing yet again her deep worry and sadness.

A smirk lifted his lips. There was no need to go to Kakkarot yet and kill him. He knew where the bastard third class was…had sensed him and his woman’s ki in the med bay, had told him to prepare. The only way he would ever be able to claim the pride that had been stolen from him was if he met Kakkarot on an even field of battle. He wanted the third class to know what humiliation felt like. He wanted him to feel pain and suffering…a ki blast to the back was hardly honorable.

Nor would it have appeased the rage that was churning within him. She could, though…for a time. She could ease everything. Her mind was open to him and he could feel the mad jumble of her emotions, shock, joy, anger…she was near to combusting from the mix and he found the need to draw her over the edge, to lose himself in the wild fierceness that was Bulma, intoxicating to his already seething emotions.

He took a step towards her. "You have been a weakness since the day I met you, Bulma," his voice was low, but controlled. "And that knowledge drives me mad."

Bulma watched him cautiously. His rage was there, but it was controlled for the time being, buried somewhere within him. She reached out to him tentatively, but drew back at the feeling of emptiness. Was he shielding himself from her? The thought that he would brought her intense sorrow, and something painful bloomed in her heart. She had to reach him. Frowning she took a step towards him. "Vegeta, please…don’t…"

His mouth upon hers silenced her and in a second she forget all but him and his body and the motion of his hot hands as they slid her robe down her pale body. Dimly she felt him pushing her back towards the bed, and then she was beneath him and he was moving inside her, hands clenched in her hair, mouth pressed against her ear. "You drive me mad…" he whispered.

The words sent her spiraling and she clutched at the hard muscle of his shoulders. There would be time to reach him later. Time to speak… All that mattered now was feeling him. She needed to assure herself that he was whole and alive and completely healed. She needed him.

*******

 

Kakkarot leaned wearily against the wall in the med bay. How long had he been here watching her? How long had he ignored everything to will her back to life? God how could this have happened to her? How could he have let this happen to her? She was his mate? And she was pregnant with his child…and he had left her to suffer.

"I’m sorry, Chi-Chi," his voice sounded pathetic even to him. "Gohan’s alright though," he frowned for a moment. Radditz had brought the boy in and he had held him in his arms, had held him close to Chi-Chi hoping that the feel of her baby might give her some strength, but she had not moved at all.

Then there was the boy that had hovered in the door for a moment, looking sad and wistful…staring into his eyes with emotions that Kakkarot wasn’t certain he completely understood. He had spoken very little to anyone save his father and Toma, had not felt the urge to, but the boy had drawn him in a way he could not explain. The desire to track him down was heavy and deep.

And now there was Vegeta. The Prince had awakened and as Toma had predicted he was furious.

"I won’t let him kill me, Chi-Chi," Kakkarot whispered. "I will not let him take me from you and Gohan…" laying his hand alongside her belly, he sighed. "It wasn’t my fault…what happened on Calonia. They gave me something…I couldn’t control myself." Staring at her face, black eyes fastened intently on her still face, he felt something inside him crack. "While I was fighting, you and our child were being tortured." Groaning, he stood, running a hand through the thick spikes of his hair. "God, I have allowed my time on Chikyuu to weaken me. Vegeta is right, I shame my Saiya-jin blood. I couldn’t even protect you."

Turning his back to her, he strode to the door. "I will fight for you, Chi-Chi. I will fight anything for you and my family. Nothing will stand in my way of assuring that you are all safe. I will not let you down again, I swear it."

If he had been any less alert he would have missed the small sound, but he didn’t. He had grown used to the dead silence of the room, of the heavy air and aura of despair. Perhaps it had even begun to affect him, taking over his usually positive outlook and replacing it with something that was foreign to him. That any sound issued forth in this room was enough to catch his attention and he turned back, black eyes piercing into the gloomy, dim lights.

Her eyes were half-cracked and he could see a glint of black shine through, and then her lips, full and soft moved slightly. "Kakkarot…" she whispered so softly he could barely make the words out.

Joy lit in his eyes and he thought his heart might burst from his chest at the sound of the voice he had feared he might never hear again. In a heartbeat he ran a full range of emotions, going from deep gloom and anguish, to full out hope and elation. It struck him funny how the smallest of sounds could change everything. Moving to her, he took he hand in his large, rough one and smoothed it gently with a long finger. "Welcome back, Chi…"

 

* * * * *

 

Coming Next Chapter: Trunks and Vegeta meet…the story of Trunks future, Jeiyce makes a move…sending Toma and Bardock on a quest, Babidi and Vegeta’s encounter and Vergerom makes a move…


Table of Contents
Chapter 5
Chapter 7