Summary: (AU) Nearly eighty and diagnosed with Alzheimer's, Bulma makes a wish upon the dragonballs that subsequently resets the DBZ timeline. Vegeta, finding himself thrown back nearly 40 years into the past (approx. ½ way between when the Cell and Buu sagas should have occurred), is the only one who is aware of the timeline shift. He finds himself dealing with the changes wrought by his wife's wish and is especially challenged by Bulma's mysterious absence. Knowing that discovering Bulma's fate lies within his sketchy memories of Before and After the Wish, Vegeta must unravel the secrets and series of events that brought him into his current situation.

Authors Note: Although I have been a DBZ fanfiction fan for many years, I have never made a serious attempt at writing my own fanfic. I have always had ideas float around my mind, often times inspired by other stories, but never have I had an idea that was fleshed out enough to really put into writing. This story is my first true attempt and crazy as it may seem, but it was inspired by a dream I had. I write this story more for myself, as I'd like to see it come to fruition. But I also hope that this story may return some of the enjoyment and inspiration to the DBZ fanfic community that I have garnered from it over the years. I hope you all enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Dragonball, Dragonball Z, or its characters. I own only the ideas and plot devices contained within this story and don't intend on obtaining any profit from this story.

Silver Linings of a Distant Sky:

The Wish That Changed it All

~ Prologue ~

His eyes snapped open to the dark stillness of his bedroom. The sudden surge of a magical energy source had yanked him from his slumber. There were only a few magical entities in the known universe that gave off the type of energy he was sensing now. Someone had summoned the eternal dragon. And based upon the unusual vacancy in the bed beside him, he had a confident suspicion who that someone was.

He threw the blankets off of himself and sprung from his bed, heading towards his bedroom's balcony door. Despite the recently chilly September nights, he didn't spare even a moment's thought to put on shoes or a shirt and exited the warmth of his home wearing only the sleep-pants he had worn to bed. From the balcony, he could barely decipher in the distance the dark storm clouds of the dragon's summoning against the dark night sky. She had called upon the dragon just far enough from the city so that the population wouldn't be the wiser.

With a flare of blue-white ki, Vegeta launched himself from the balcony and into the night. He flexed his senses and was not surprised to feel Bulma's small, insignificant ki against Shenron's colossal magical energy. He was perhaps only one of a dozen or so in the entire universe who could distinguish her small ki and only one of a small few who would be able to detect it while she stood within Shenron's audience. Through their bond, he could feel that she was a whirlwind of emotion; determination, sadness, hope, fear, anger, confusion, desperation. It was a terrible cocktail of her mental state and the eternal dragon's presence was the olive in this volatile martini.

As the city landscape gave way to the dark green blur of the undeveloped land beyond West City, Vegeta pondered how his wife had managed to gather all seven dragonballs without his or anyone else's notice. Furthermore, how was it that she had managed to sneak out in the middle of the night undetected?

The dragonballs hadn't been used in many years – more years than Vegeta could put a definite number to. But like the strongest warriors on planet Namek had done, the strongest warriors of Earth had taken guardianship over the seven magic orbs. This was done for two reasons. The first was so that they couldn't be used for ill good. The second was so that they could be quickly brought together should another crisis befall their home world. Gohan and Goten had been chosen as the protectors of the three and seven star balls respectively. Goku had possession of the four star ball, until recently. Now Pan had the honor of being its guardian. Trunks and Bra had the two and five star balls. Vegeta protected the six star ball which left the one star ball under Dende's watchful eye.

But how had Bulma convinced everyone to relinquish each of their dragonballs? How could they not have realized that she intended to summon Shenron? And it was obvious that they hadn't come to that realization until now. He could sense the energies of his family, of Goku's family, of the remnants of Earth's warriors stirring from their sleep, becoming aware of the strong pulse of energy from the ancient dragon. Spread out across the continent, it would take each of them much longer than it would for him to reach his wife. He needed to get there before them – to stop his wife from doing anything irrational.

Through their bond, he could sense that she knew he was already on his way. She could feel him out just as easily as he could her. He could feel her rising panic, could feel her determination to accomplish her task before he could stop her, could feel her fear clouding her judgment and clawing at the clear focus that had suddenly drove her to make such a drastic decision to call upon the dragon.

He gently touched down upon the dark black-green of the evening grass without so much as a whisper of noise. But she knew he was there, and he knew that she knew. Her back was to him. She had apparently dressed hastily, needing to leave quickly before being discovered and hoping that she'd not be spotted by anyone, or at least not anyone who cared too much about her state of attire. She was still wearing her cotton two-piece baby blue pajama set that Bra had given her last Christmas and a dark blue fleece robe that he couldn't recall where it had come from.

The pulsing glow of the dragonballs at her feet made her look mythical, the dragon's aura above her cast her in an ethereal light. The golden hue reflected off of her silver-blue hair, the strands dancing in the waves of energy rippling from Shenron. She turned to her left, shifting only one step around, met his eyes with regret and sadness. She had been caught like the proverbial child with its hand in the cookie jar.

He had never seen her before looking so full of... remorse. In all their years together, he had thought that she had been happy overall. Sure they had had their ups and downs and their bumps in the road. Hell, he had been an all out ass towards her those first few years of their relationship. But despite his prideful attitude and her stubborn willfulness, they had created a good life together. One that he had never in a million years dreamed of ever finding. She had taken him in, a broken wreck of a man (although he didn't know it at the time), and healed him of all his wounds, physical and emotional, and given him a better life by showing him that the man of his youth was not the man he was meant to be. He considered himself extraordinarily lucky to be given so many second chances in his life. It was all because of her.

And now she looked at him as if she were to blame for all their worries and problems. You shouldn't have to deal with all of this, she spoke to him through their bond. It's not your fault, he wanted to whisper back.

A lock of her faded hair swept into her face and she brought a small, fragile hand up to brush it away. She had aged very well over the years. At seventy-seven, she still looked as young as her early sixties. It had to be genetics, he mused, for her parents – especially her mother – had remained quite youthful and active for many years into their seniority. Bulma had done well to conceal her own age as she pushed passed fifty. She had gone through many rituals and procedures; coloring her hair at the easiest end of the spectrum, plastic surgery at the opposite end. No matter what she did, however, she could only blur her true age on the outside. Deep down, she was still growing old.

Vegeta remembered when she had stopped bothering to look youthful. It had been almost eight years ago; their wedding anniversary. He had made reservations to take her to her favorite restaurant, one she only liked to visit for special reasons because it made the occasion all the more special. They had had a very pleasant evening; very quiet, just the two of them (Vegeta had booked the entire restaurant that evening for just them). The lighting was muted and soft music played overhead. The food was excellent, as always. The wait staff was very kind; there when they were needed but not overbearing. They spent the duration of the meal talking, or rather, she did most of the talking and he contributed here and there. But mostly he was content to just listen to his wife speak animatedly about whatever topic drifted in and out of her attention. It had been a wonderful evening for just them in their own little world for a single evening.

After their meal, as Vegeta paid for the evening, the maitre d' smiled warmly at her only two customers for the evening. "I just want you two to know that it was a privilege to have you tonight. The two of you are just so cute together!"

In the corner of his eye, Vegeta could see his wife's beaming smile. She had often told him how much she had admired her parents' long marriage and their happy commitment to each other, even as they grew old with age. "They're just so cute together!" she had once said. "To have been together so long and to still look at each other with such love and adoration!" At the time, he had scoffed at her silly whimsical admiration. But now he could see how having the sentiment returned to her made her feel so happy. Unfortunately, the moment wouldn't last.

As the maitre d' handed Vegeta's credit card back to him, she elaborated on her earlier proclamation, obviously with good intentions, but had fallen far short of a happy blessing. "It's so sweet of you to take your mother out to dinner, and to reserve our entire restaurant just for her!" she spoke just to Vegeta. "I hope to have a son one day like you."

Vegeta took his card back from the young woman without a word. He turned to his wife and saw that the damage had clearly been done. She stood frozen still from the shock. It was one of the very rare moments in her life that the little spitfire had been knocked speechless. Vegeta took her right hand in his and with his left on her upper back, he guided her numb form from the restaurant. The maitre d' hadn't notice her faux pas as she wished them a wonderful remainder of their evening. As the saiyan drove them home, they both remained silent. Vegeta could see the gears working in his wife's head and before they had even left that part of the city, the first silent tear had rolled down her cheek.

He comforted her the only way he knew how. He took her left hand in his right, and pushed his thoughts and feelings for her through their bond, reassuring her that no matter how much she aged or how much he didn't, that his feelings for her would never change, never wane, never fade. Feeling the strength of his devotion to her eased her pain. After that night, they had never again visited that restaurant and she had given up altogether on all her youth treatments.

"I can't keep doing this to you," Bulma's broken voice drew Vegeta's attention back to the present. "It's not fair to you."

Before she could continue that thought, he rushed to her and pulled her into a gentle embrace. She was not startled by his speed or suddenness; years of living with him had accustomed her to his supernatural abilities. She allowed him to hold her and she returned the gesture. He poured into her the full extent of his feelings for her, but the following words he spoke aloud. Having never been a man who could easily put his emotions into words, he knew that hearing what he felt with her ears rather than her mind would mean worlds to her.

"Woman... Bulma... I..." He paused, gathering his words, and with a sigh continued on. "This is not your fault. This is a part of life. I... If... if spending the rest of eternity caring for you is the Kais' chosen punishment for all the transgressions I've committed in my youth, then I shall cherish every moment I have with you."

Her heart swelled with love and admiration for her husband. Yet he could still sense her immense guilt through the bond. He could smell the sudden saltiness in the air as her eyes watered up and a single tear spilled down each of her cheeks. She did not sob from all the overwhelming emotions, but she did cling onto him as if her life depended upon him.

At the fringe of his senses, he could feel the closest responders to the dragon's aura drawing ever nearer. Trunks and his two teenage sons, Bokser and Trouser, would be there in less than a minute. The rest of those on their way would arrive shortly thereafter; Gohan and his family, Goten and his brat, and Bra. Goku, almost not surprisingly, hadn't left his home despite being aware of Shenron's summoning. Tensing with this knowledge, Vegeta knew that he had to quickly convince his wife to dismiss the dragon before the anyone else's arrival caused her to make a hasty wish that they may all regret.

Through their link, Bulma could feel Vegeta's sudden panic and urgency. She knew, because he knew, that others would be there very soon to stop her from making her wish; a wish that would end it all. The panic and urgency triggered her to experience one of her memory lapses. She pulled back away from her husband to look into his eyes. The feeling of security and warmth she had experienced just moments ago were completely gone, replaced once more by fear and guilt.

"I can't keep doing this to you. It's not fair to you," she unknowingly repeated her earlier statements. Vegeta sighed, feeling a bit defeated. He had had the courage to speak his sentiments once, and that had taken a lot out of him to do so. He couldn't find it within himself to say the words again, especially if she was only going to forget them once more.

"I can't let you go through the same thing that I went through with my mom," she quietly lamented, tears rolling down her cheeks. He locked eyes with her, brought his hands up to her face and gently wiped her tears away. All he could do to comfort her was to pour his love for her through their bond and hope that she'd be rid of whatever foolish idea she had that had brought her to summon the dragon. "I don't want you to see me get sick like she got. I don't want to be like she was..."

Almost twenty years ago, Bulma's parents had already been well into their senior years when her mother Kiki had begun having the occasional memory slip. "One of my little spells," Kiki had called them. They didn't happen too often at first; maybe once a week or so. Her slips in memory were harmless; added to her charm, actually. She'd do silly things, like feed the animals twenty minutes after having done so already. Or she'd misplace where she'd set down her gardening tools while she filled her watering can. "Vegeta sweetie, have you seen my tools?" he could remember hearing her ask. On one occasion, she had ordered a new couch for their sitting room and forgotten about it, then ordered the same one the next day. No refunds, the company had said. So Bulma and Vegeta had ended up with an unsightly couch in their own suite of the CC complex family wing.

But over the months, Kiki's "little spells" became more frequent – and more dangerous. One afternoon, only she and Vegeta had been home. Vegeta, as usual, was training in the gravity room. After he finished his afternoon training session and left the GR, he could faintly smell something burning from the far end of the complex. He raced to the kitchen, where wisps of gray smoke were seeping from the edges of the oven door. The air in the room was hazy from the offensive odor. He threw open the windows, shut off the oven, pulled open the oven door, and – with bare hands – pulled the tray of charred discs of who-knew-what and threw them outside into the back yard. It was then that Kiki came inside from her gardening – her spade and empty watering can were still in her gloved hands – and thought she had stumbled upon Vegeta's failed attempt at baking. She hadn't remembered at all that she had started baking cookies when she had wandered off into her garden.

It was because of that incident that the Doc decided to take his wife in for a medical exam. They waited an excruciating three weeks for the results to come in. The result was devastating. Alzheimer's.

Kiki was just beyond the earliest stages of the disease. Bulma and the Doc had diverted their full attention and many resources into finding a cure. They discovered many treatments, procedures, and medications to slow the deterioration of Kiki's brain and to prolong her cognitive abilities. But they could only do so much and they had already been at a disadvantage at having the disease run unchecked for nearly a year before it had been discovered.

Their treatments did have positive effects and they had had many breakthroughs in combating the disease that had earned the pair many accolades from the World Health Association. Kiki's memory and cognition skills initially improved with each new breakthrough. But the disease seemed to have an intelligence of its own and eventually figured out a way to counter every treatment. The positive results from each new medication grew shorter and shorter. Ever so slowly, the final stages of the disease had crept upon them.

When those final stages of Kiki's condition were in full force, there was nothing they could do to reverse the damage or preserve what was left. All they could do was take care of a once bright and bubbly woman who had become irrational and childlike. It upset Bulma when her mother no longer recognized her. "I have a daughter about your age," she had once said to Bulma. But it was when Trunks and Bra visited their grandmother and she failed to recognize them that truly broke Bulma's heart.

Compounded upon this emotional trauma was that Kiki's behavior became a challenge to deal with. On her better days, she'd just be difficult and unable to make certain decisions, like what she'd like to drink with her meals or which shoes she'd like to wear outside. On her worst days, she'd be flat out impossible to deal with. She'd even become physically combative when she wasn't getting something her way. For five years and seven months after learning Kiki had Alzheimer's disease, they tried valiantly to help her. That was when she disappeared without a trace during a cold, early January night.

Despite the family's high public profile, despite the hundreds of people who committed to the search party, despite all the money they had to fund search efforts, they could not find her. She had already had a several hour head start by the time her disappearance had been discovered in the morning. A heavy snowfall had erased her tracks and her scent. Her ki had grown so small over the course of her illness that no one who was ki sensitive could feel her.

Hours of searching turned into days. The search and rescue effort had evolved into body recovery. Fewer and fewer people gathered each day as the hopes of finding her at all waned. Days rolled into weeks. January bled into February. February to March. And then the weather started changing. Winter broke as a warm front worked its way into West City for several days. Under the bright sun, most all of the winter's snow had melted away. In West City Central Park, in a secluded, forested area, a pair of joggers came across a body half buried in the melting snow. Finally, after two and a half agonizing months, Bikini "Kiki" Briefs had been found.

Vegeta now held onto Bulma like he had when they had discovered Kiki's body. He held his wife close with his left hand as he comforted her by gently stroking her silver-blue hair with his right hand. She clung to him desperately as she allowed her sorrow to seep out of her through her tears. Knowing that it was a hereditary disease, Bulma had herself tested for the DNA sequence that would indicate the existence of Alzheimer's. She had tested positive. With the preventative treatments she and her father had discovered, she had postponed the development of the disease for many many years. But it was inevitable and couldn't be staved off forever. She had begun experiencing the earliest stages of Alzheimer's a little over a year ago.

Already, she was having difficulty completing scientific tasks. Knowing this, she had named Trunks as the new president of Capsule Corps. and Bra as the new vice president. Even tasks that she had done repetitively for more than half her life had grown impossible. The nail in the proverbial coffin was her failure to repair the GR three months ago. She had known that machine inside and out for forty-five years, and she couldn't fix it!? Defeated and humiliated, she confided in Vegeta that she'd have to call Trunks or Bra to take care of it. He told her not to worry about it. The GR was as much her baby as it was his. He couldn't bring himself to call upon anyone else, even one of their own children, to repair the room. So, he hadn't used the GR ever since.

"I won't let you suffer with this like I did with my mother," she quietly sobbed into his chest. Through their bond, he could feel that she was already filled with grief over her bleak situation. He gleaned pieces of her erratic thoughts. ...can't wish it away... genetic... ...can't wish for youth... would still have it... ...can't be rid of it...

"Mom!"

"Grammy!"

Trunks and his sons had arrived, landing softly in the grass some thirty feet behind Vegeta. The dragon still loomed overhead, impatience etched across its snarling face. Bulma's gaze shifted over Vegeta's shoulder towards the new arrivals. She was still for a few moments, her face betraying nothing. Vegeta gently prodded the link, gleaning her thoughts. ...kids can't get it... ...human disease... Vegeta's stomach had a terrible sinking feeling at that moment. Despite Alzheimer's being a genetic disease, they had discovered that their children were immune to it because of their Saiyan DNA. But if Bulma's whirlwind thoughts kept going in that direction...

He quickly slammed the bond shut to prevent his wife from gleaning any thoughts from him that might influence her to make a foolish decision. Unfortunately, he'd be unable to determine her thoughts and emotions as well. She tilted her tear-streaked face upwards to him, curiosity in her eyes, questioning why he had so suddenly cut himself off from her. He met her eyes, without fear or guilt, and gently wiped away the tears from her face to reassure her that despite cutting their link, he wasn't abandoning her.

Seeing the love and determination in Vegeta's eyes, subtle as they were, was enough to make Bulma cringe. With new tears, she once again buried her face into his strong, warm chest. And she sobbed with renewed force. She mumbled so softly, he could barely hear the words.

"I just... I just wish..." she whispered so quietly into his chest that he barely heard the end of her sentence. Vegeta's eyes widened in panic. She hadn't really meant it, hadn't intended on making a wish! She was simply longing to be healthy and happy and whole!

"Your wish has been granted," Shenron thundered overhead, his eyes glowing bright red.

"No!" Vegeta gasped with terror. What has she done! He gripped both her shoulders, held her away from him, inspected her, waiting to see what changes, what consequences would be wrought from the unintentional wish. She stared up at him, panicked at his sudden rough handling of her. And then she disappeared. Faded into nothingness. Before he could even begin to comprehend what had just happened, where she had gone, what fate awaited her, everything went dark.