AN: Hello all! As is warned in the story description, this is a pretty dark twist on the Dragonball Z story. We pick up here at the end of Dragonball Z, where Goku has left his family to train Uub in the wilderness for the next ten years. So, starting off, we will be dealing with everyone's reaction to Goku's rather insensitive decision.
This story is definitely an M rating. There will be language, violence, rape, abuse, neglect, etc. We're pretty much going to be dealing with the realistic emotions that these characters would be feeling given the circumstances of the actual series of DBZ, but also certain ordeals that they go through in this fictional work of art that I have created.
I do not own the characters, series, or works of Akira Toriyama. I am an author, who happens to enjoy DBZ more than she should, and is thus writing about a potential alternate universe that could have occurred in DBZ. This is purely fictional, and I am not making any sort of profit from it.
Harbor in the Tempest
THE SUN SET on a day that had left many people feeling abandoned by Son Goku when he made the decision to train Uub in the Majin's home village. The Son family was hit the hardest, and extremely distraught by their beloved kin's resolution. Son Gohan found himself becoming the pillar of his family once again in his father's absence. He had to tend to Chichi; who had fallen apart, Pan; who had been inconsolable, and Goten; who had gone into a shocking numbness that had rendered him useless while Gohan and Videl had been trying to render assistance to Chichi and Pan's hysteria.
The elder Son brother took his entire family to his own home, not knowing where else to go. The Briefs had knowingly extended their sympathies and offerings of help, but he had refused them. Vegeta was likely to have an emotional episode of his own over this whole matter; one that would required Bulma, Trunks, and Bura to contain. Again, Son Gohan was the pillar, always supporting everyone who had been hurt by his father's ignorant selfishness.
The anger that he'd long suppressed boiled just beneath the surface. Like his own mother had exclaimed only this afternoon, his father could not possibly be leaving them again. His inner child roiled within him, wanting to blow the entire world that Son Goku loved so much to smithereens, just to gain some sort of justice or to show his father just how much he hated him sometimes. But, no, he couldn't. He loved Earth just as much as Son Goku did. And so he pushed it further down within himself, a deep recess of his heart he seldom expressed, not even to his own wife.
Now was the time to tend to his family, not to himself, however great the need. He parked the mini van that he'd borrowed from Bulma in his driveway and cut the engine. It was late evening, the street lights already lit to ease the encroaching darkness. Fireflies were common for this wooded area that he and Videl had chosen to raise Pan. It was quiet, though none of them truly knew any sort of peace or calm given the current circumstance. He glanced at his wife, who had held their sobbing daughter throughout the ride home. Pan's wails had finally trailed off as she tired herself out, and was now sleeping fitfully.
Videl smiled weakly, for her youthful optimism had faded in the past ten years as she endured a marriage to an alien hybrid that she had fallen in love with as a teenage girl. Gohan's family had continually put strain on the eldest Son brother, and by proxy, her. Goku was always neglecting his duties as husband and father, which Gohan in turn had to fill in for to the best of his ability. So he inevitably would support Chichi, who was dissatisfied as a wife, and would be a surrogate father to Goten, who hadn't even met his father until he was seven years old.
"Let's get everyone inside." she finally managed, exiting the vehicle with their daughter in her arms. Gohan helped his sobbing mother out of the van, wondering how Goten could have just sat numbly beside her while she cried throughout the entire ride. The younger Son hadn't even made eye contact with any of them just yet, and had remained silent as the night progressed. He merely mechanically unbuckled his seat belt and followed them to the front door waveringly.
Gohan guided the overwrought matriarch to his sofa as Videl went upstairs to tuck their daughter into bed. Poor Panny, Gohan reflected somberly, her grandfather Goku had been extremely involved in their life since Pan had been born, but it seemed that Goku's love for battle outweighed the love he had for his family and she was experiencing for the first time the hurt and distress over Goku's pattern of absences.
He observed his younger brother as he slipped into Gohan's favored lounge chair, staring at no point in particular. This was not good. Would Goten be able to snap out of the shock of realizing that Goku's disappearances were indeed a pattern? It was likely that the younger Son had only just begun to relax and believe that Goku was around for good. Goku had been in all of their lives for the past ten years, after all. They had all been a family together; Goku, Chichi, Gohan, and Goten had lived under the same roof until Gohan and Videl had married and bought their own home six years ago. From that point Goten had both of their parents all to himself in his tween and teenage years and had begun to fill in for the holes that Goten had experienced as a child not having his father around.
It was ironic, actually, that Gohan had his father present for the majority of his childhood, though he had died occasionally throughout the interim, and had to face his teenage years without Goku. Goten's experience had been quite the opposite, having only his older brother as a father figure during his child years, but had his father present for the difficult teenage times. And now the Son brothers, twenty seven and seventeen years old, respectively, were facing Kami knew how many years where they would be without their father's support. Yet again.
But Gohan had seen that their father was becoming increasingly restless in the times of peace, which was probably why he had jumped at the opportunity to participate in the Budokai, and consequently offer tutelage to a student with more potential than his own sons were proving to have. Gohan couldn't help but wonder if he and Goten just weren't good enough to be within their father's notice. Goku always wanted the next exhilarating battle, but in the past ten years Gohan had found himself more focused on Videl and the family they had created together. And Goten had been interested on catching up on the emotional deficit that came with your father being dead since before you were even born, so fighting hadn't been his highest priority.
Gohan also wondered if maybe Goku had culled any love that he would have naturally developed for battle had he been able to come into it on his own. But Gohan had been thrust onto the battlefield at an age that was probably far too young to be appropriate for his mental development. Raditz kidnapping of him, and Piccolo killing his father and wayward uncle...and then Piccolo had kidnapped him, and then the solitary training session he'd endured in the wilderness with Mr. Piccolo. And the carnage hadn't stopped there, for he had been with his father and friends when Vegeta and Nappa came to Earth for the Dragonballs. He had also ventured into space while he was still a child and fought extremely powerful aliens in an attempt to save Namek and the universe. And Freiza arriving on Earth. And then the Cell games. And Majin Buu...which lead to the reincarnation, Uub, who his father had abandoned them to go and train...
Any of these events were probably enough to rattle the cage of any developing child. But he wasn't a child anymore, but now a broken adult, trying against all odds to keep his own family safe from harm.
His late teenage and early adult years had consisted of increasing emotional episodes that would present themselves whenever anything remotely shadowed or triggered his past. Videl had borne the brunt of it throughout their relationship and subsequent marriage, and his emotional episodes had only increased in frequency and intensity as the years had passed. Post traumatic stress was probably the closest medical term that could describe what he mentally went through.
Videl returned from her task of tucking Pan into bed with a small bottle of pills in her hand. "They'll calm your mother down if I can can convince her to take them..." It was the medication that he had been prescribed to calm his emotional outbreaks. They usually didn't work well, for his Saiya-jin metabolism burned through them faster than their tablet release, and he couldn't afford to be buying ample amounts of medications just to try to stay calm.
So he had developed other techniques to manage his emotions, though they weren't always fail-safe or available. Sometimes he would take a flight around the world, initiate a sparring session, or if Videl was willing, have a rough session of intercourse until he came his way to calm. Even his daughter's presence calmed him like a numbing balm. There would be days where all he did was interact and play with Pan, making certain that she would have a collection of good memories she shared with her own father.
"I'll get a glass of water." He turned to do so while Videl approached his sobbing mother. This was all so surreal. He kept wondering if perhaps this was some horrible dream and that he'd wake up in a cold sweat beside his wife in the comfort of their own bed. He'd certainly had similar nightmares involving a reincarnated enemy intent on extracting his revenge, or a newer, stronger being with similar purpose looming ahead of them with little hope to be had.
He returned to the living room quickly, handing the glass of water to his strained mother. Chichi popped the pills without argument, sinking into the couch to sob more. It was sad, really, for his mother was only forty seven, and still quite pretty. His father was leaving his wife in the last of her physical prime. If he returned in five or ten years, she'd be much older and more frail. Their physical relationship would certainly be limited if or when Goku returned. Their entire relationship had been limited as it was, having been married for nearly thirty years, but Goku had really only been present for a little over fifteen of those years at this point. That was probably a sour disappointment for Chichi as a widowed wife and single mother to demi Saiya-jin boys.
Gohan had been privy to the majority of his parents' marital disputes. Goku was forgetful when it came to romance or intimacy, often neglecting his wife for weeks or years on end with training retreats or defending Earth. And Chichi's anger and bitterness over being neglected had grown to a monumental size to the point where she was a weeping and broken woman now that her beloved Goku-sa had left her once again. Perhaps it would be better to invite her and Goten to live here for the next few weeks until things calmed down...
It was really the only way he could continue to work and handle his family's grieving process. He and Videl could not maintain their family's needs if they were constantly trekking to Goku and Chichi's ill-located, humble abode. Videl wasn't working right now because Panny was so young, so he was busting his hump as a college professor to support his little family that he'd perhaps started too early in his dysfunctional life. Gohan's home was closer to the city and thus it would be convenient for Goten to be closer to his friend Trunks while he went through this difficult time.
But he'd have to run it by Videl, and she would have to agree, or it wouldn't work. Gohan opened his mouth to speak with his wife, but as he did, Goten jumped out of the lounge chair he'd sat in. Without a word he marched to the front door, opened it, and closing it quietly behind him, was gone. Videl and Gohan shot one another a panicked glance at the teenager's actions. Chichi, already bleary from the pills she had taken, didn't react.
"Where is he-"
"Capsule Corp. He needs Trunks right now." Gohan answered, interrupting his wife's alarmed question. Even when Goku had come back into their lives, Goten had maintained his deep friendship and bond with the son of their father's rival. Gohan suspected that it was because Trunks was the only person who hadn't ever left Goten at one time or another in the youngest Son's life. Goku had left before Goten had ever been born, Gohan had moved out of the house once he was old enough to, and Chichi's emotional episodes over their father's actions often left Goten fending for himself.
Videl sighed heavily, sinking into their threadbare loveseat that was part of their secondhand living room ensemble. He crossed the room and sat by her, his hand resting on the nape of her neck as a comforting gesture. They observed Chichi as her eyes closed and her breaths became deep and even. Good, she could finally rest, if only up until the drugs wore off.
"Maybe Mom and Goten should stay here for a few weeks. Just until they work through the shock, you know?" he suggested softly, watching his wife for any sort of reaction or attempt to hide her true feelings. He felt drained suddenly, all of his anger giving way to deep sadness and extreme fatigue.
Videl grimaced and he removed his hand from her cautiously. She was a strong person, had been so since her own mother had passed, and Chichi's overbearing nature clashed with her own. Chichi usually wasn't pleasant to be around, and certainly wouldn't be so in the weeks to come. But she was the mother of the man she loved dearly, and therefore had a responsibility as Chichi's daughter in law to care for the older, grieving woman.
The same went for Goten, whom she had known since he was a little boy. She didn't want Goten to dwell in that miserable home with only Chichi for company. That would not be healthy for the teenager, nor would it lead to anything remotely functional. She couldn't leave Goten to a dismal living situation like that.
"They can stay as long as they need, Gohan." she found herself answering automatically. Her feelings aside, she had to do this to keep the family together. She and Gohan were a team, and this outcome would collapse without her complete support and agreement. He would collapse without her.
His deep, ebony eyes bored through her. "Are you sure?" He knew her well, had seen her grimace. He had to be sure.
She nodded wearily. "We're a family. No matter what. Thick and thin, remember?" She took his hands in her own, squeezing them empathetically. They had sworn to be partners in life, to stick together, even when the odds were against them. She would not, could not go back on that vow anymore than he could.
He leaned in, kissing her gently. "Thank you for being in my life." It was times like these where he realized why they had married so young. He couldn't survive without her. They were both damaged, in their own ways, and needed one another for support to function.
Her eyes blurred with tears. "I need you just as bad. Ever since my mom died..." She had her holes too. She and Gohan had become constant companions because their need was mutual. They had thrust themselves into greater responsibilities than they were probably ready for just because it would ensure the bond between them. And, truly, they had dated faithfully for four solid years before marrying, and had only been married for one year before Pan was born. They had become married parents at twenty two with a mortgage over their heads.
He pulled her close, holding her in the protection of his arms. "I know..." And he did know, all too well, in coping with his father's countless deaths and disappearances. At least Videl had only experienced her mother's death once.
She listened to the beating of his heart, so even and strong, and wondered how he could still be so dependable, despite having suffered what he did. Gohan was a far better man than his father was, because he ensured that he would never leave his family's side, no matter what battle glistened like a shiny distraction in the distance. "I love you." she murmured, reaching deep within herself to find and pull the will she'd need to get through this. As long as Gohan was by her side, they would get through it all.
TRUNKS WASN'T QUITE sure what to think of his father's reaction to Son Goku's disappearance. The Briefs family had returned home to Capsule Corporation in an awkward silence, none daring to say a word for fear of setting Vegeta's rage off. The Saiya-jin Prince still hadn't really reacted, at least not outwardly. His mother was also silent, for her longtime friend has left before, and this habit of Goku's wasn't one she had visibly expressed bothered or hurt her either. So both of his parents, in their longtime, quite opposite, relationships with Goku, were in a deep state of shock.
It left him tending to Bura's needs when they arrived home; for Vegeta had retreated to the comfort of his gravity chamber while Bulma sought solace in her laboratory and inventions. His four year old sister had only required a grilled cheese sandwich, a bath, a bedtime story, and a simple explanation of what had truly happened that day.
All of which he provided effortlessly, since he was eighteen, and able to at least accomplish this menial tasks. Approaching either parents about their afflicted emotions, however, was not his forte. It was probably dangerous, more like, since his parents had the most volatile tempers out of all of the people he knew in his short time on this earth.
"Are Mommy and Daddy going to be okay?" she had asked innocently, not quite sure what to think of the current situation. The tense silence was not something she was accustomed to. Usually, in the Briefs family, things would be opened talked about, and more often, argued over. Even Trunks and herself had adopted their parents' dysfunctional manners of communicating. So this unyielding silence was unnerving, and quite frankly, starting to scare her.
Trunks closed the nursery book, setting it aside to tuck his sister deeper into her 'My Little Pony' bedspread, as if being safe in her bed could also keep her safe from the harsh reality of their parents' emotional reactions. "Yeah Bura, they'll be okay. It may take a little while, but eventually Mom and Dad will be okay again."
He was tender with his little sister whom he shared a fourteen year difference with. It had been quite the shock when his parents announced their pregnancy a little less than five years ago. He had assumed that by that point he'd be an only child. But he'd been pleasantly surprised, for Bura was a welcome addition in their family, for she had softened Vegeta's harsh exterior noticeably. He did his best to keep his jealousy from overwhelming him, for his birth hadn't quite had the same affect on the stoic and sometimes temperamental Saiya-jin Prince. So, to this point, he'd been extremely careful to be nice to his little sister.
"Are you worried about Goten?" Her perceptive nature often scared him, for she seemingly knew that Goku's disappearance would affect Goten, which would in turn alter the interactions that Trunks and Goten would be sharing, due to Goten's afflicted emotions. She also had sensed, and accepted, the depth of the the friendship that he and Goten shared. The two demi Saiya-jin were closer than many people considered appropriate, and they had been under the scrutiny of many scandalous rumors regarding their relationship.
Trunks felt his eyes burn, because Goten's pain was as real to him as if his own father had just blown his own family off. The Capsule Corp heir loved his friend dearly, and would share the emotional ordeal with Goten to facilitate the healing process. "Yeah, baby, I'm worried." He swallowed, his throat thick with emotion.
Her small hand rested on his cheek and he marveled at this child's emotional intelligence when she spoke: "If Goten has you, he's going to be okay."
Trunks eyed his toddler sister with awe. "You're right." he said, looking down of the thread of their immediate future. As long as he and Goten were together, they could get through anything. Their friendship had conquered enemies greater than this emotional blow.
Trunks had a plethora of scientific intelligence and pragmatic problem solving, but experienced anger regarding his relationship with his father and his parents expectations. He also often found himself lacking the emotional motivation to accomplish any of his goals. Goten was quite emotionally perceptive and intelligent, provided the emotional content for him, and supplied the sensitive observations and acknowledgments that Trunks needed.
But Goten's weakness was not only his abandonment issues, but his lack of effective problem solving methods. He often found himself lost when considering his future, his goals, and immediate problems that came up, and how to handle them. So Trunks was the only person in his life who had never left him and also helped him to solve his technical life problems.
So, over the years of their involvement, they had become integral in assisting one another with their outcomes and could only accomplish anything when the other was involved or supportive in some way. They balance one another, and between the two of them, they could temperance their extreme points of view to find the middle, most temperate answer or solution. The only real hole they experienced was whenever something occurred on the female side of things, since both of their mothers happened to be ball busters and often times wrapped up in their own dramas or interests.
Bura, the only emotionally perceptive yin point of view that Trunks could trust, was still to young for such a responsibility. So he and Goten were often blindsided whenever a detail was missed or blew up in their face. "So everything will be okay." the insightful child concluded. Seemingly satisfied, she pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek, and snuggled deep underneath her covers. Within moments, she was blissfully asleep, and Trunks left the child to her slumber.
He found his way to his own bedroom in the dark, the halls of Capsule Corp memorized like a map in his brain. He closed his door, jumping when he realized he was not alone. His senses flared, and he calmed when the person proved to be none other than Goten. "Sorry, guess I'm a little out of it." Trunks confessed, dropping out of the fighting stance he instinctually jumped into.
Goten, who hadn't budged from his perch in Trunks's bedroom window, waved a hand. "No problem. Its definitely been a long day." They gave one another the benefit of the doubt more often than not, and tonight was no exception. He entered the room, closing the window behind him, and immediately engulfed Trunks in a hug. "It really isn't fair." he murmured, his voice breaking. He had managed to keep his cool, to stay in that frosty numb, but once he felt himself cracking he knew he had to get to Trunks or he'd fall apart. Being with Trunks was the only safe place where he could fall apart.
"I know," Trunks replied softly, holding his friend close, "I know."
The tears came, hot and numerous, soaking the collar and front of Trunks's shirt. But he stood, holding his closest companion, while the teen broke down into the emotional episode Son Goku's abandonment had awoken. "You're the only one." the younger demi Saiya-jin murmured brokenly. His pillar, his lifeline...
Trunks didn't have to ask what his friend meant. He was the only one who had never left Goten's side. "You make it have meaning." he answered knowingly, for he needed Goten just as much as the Son needed him. They stood together, in their embrace, for a long time. And finally, exhausted, Goten passed out in his friend's arms. There was nothing that could be said between them, nothing that could really make it better. So Trunks had held Goten, to reassure him that there was still someone who would never abandon him, no matter what anyone else did
He tucked his friend into his own bed, grateful for the company Goten's presence provided. And, still sitting on the edge of the mattress, he dropped his head in his hands and finally cried.
VEGETA OFTEN FOUND his solace in the rigorous, mind-numbing routine that was his current training regimen. He'd been repeating his techniques in an ordered fashion for the past few weeks now, for he had felt...uninspired. Restless. Unsatisfied. And...bored.
Even before that wretched Budokai, Kakarrot had been unenthused about their twice weekly sparring sessions. After Kakarrot had attained Super Saiya-jin level three, he had been satisfied with that development. The Saiya-jin Prince, however, was once again infuriated that Kakarrot had attained the next level before him yet again. It seemed that his was always barely catching up with that third class moron's newest achievement. So, in the past ten years, he had set himself to task. He had fought, trained, meditated, ate, slept, and breathed the unobtainable power that was Super Saiya-jin level three.
He'd failed. In those ten years he'd pushed himself even further than he had pushed to achieve Super Saiya-jin alone. He'd gone into space, sometimes for months on end, just to put himself in life threatening situations in hopes of triggering the next transformative level. Nothing worked, and though he'd managed to survive each harrowing experience, he was no closer to his goal.
There had even been one moment where Kakarrot, using his Instant Teleporter infernal technique, had saved Vegeta from his inescapable death. Which was the exact opposite thing he was intending. He would have rather died than have Kakarrot save him, he'd told the third class buffoon this fact as he lay dying in his rival's arms back on Earth's plane...
Goku had given him a hard glance that was as biting as his reply: "I wouldn't let your selfishness hurt Bulma and Trunks." His tone was one he almost never utilized. He administered a sensu bean roughly, forcing Vegeta's mouth closed so he wouldn't spit the sensu out just for spite.
"Fuck you, Kakarrot." Vegeta snarled once he'd ingested the sensu. He wrenched himself from his longtime adversary and crouched to wipe the blood from his mouth. "I know better for my family than you know for yours." The arrow had hit its intended mark, and the taller of the Saiya-jin flinched from the comment.
"Vegeta, that's not deserved given these circumstances." He didn't mask his hurt well. He sank to the ground beside the Prince of their dead race, the person he wished he could have called friend, and the hurt man who was lashing out at the person he considered responsible for all of his shortcomings.
Always revealing his weaknesses to his enemies, Kakarrot was, Vegtea thought snidely. "Whether you saved my life or not, the hypocrisy behind your intent is offensive to me." he growled, resisting the childish urge to grab a fistful of earth and hurl a clod of it into the younger man's face. He sometimes hated Kakarrot more than he hated Freiza. How dare that moron tell him how to treat his family when he hurt his family just as deeply, if not more, with his own actions.
"What the hell are you talking about Vegeta?" Goku usually had patience where communication between Vegeta and himself were concerned, but sometimes Vegeta's eloquent speech was above his head. And he wasn't feeling especially charitable; Vegeta had absorbed it all, only to hurl poison back in his face.
"You rush to my aid to 'play hero', and then insult me by suggesting that I would intentionally harm my family with my selfishness when you continuously harm your family with your selfishness!" he roared.
Kakarrot inhaled a sharp breath, gripping at his chest. His shoulders sank, seemingly deflated by the hard truth that Vegtea had just illuminated. "I'm...I...I..." His mouth moved as he attempted to form a response, or perhaps even a defense, but there was none. Vegeta, was of the least emotionally perceptive people, was claiming that Chichi, Gohan, and Goten were being harmed by his selfish actions. If Vegeta was bringing people's feelings into consideration, then the potential that he illuminated must be considered. "What am I doing that is selfish?" he finally asked, unable to see what exactly he was doing wrong.
Vegtea snorted. "If you can't see where you're selfish, it's not my responsibility to tell you. Just like it wasn't your responsibility to save my life." With nothing more to say to the third class baka, he took off, heading home. His presence would be a welcome surprise to his family. His heart wrenched as he though of how it would devastate Bulma and Trunks if he had died today like fate had seemingly intended for him. He saw that his pursuit of power had leaned more towards the selfish side, like Kakarrot had said. So, really, it was good that Kakarrot had saved him for his family's sake.
Inwardly he growled. Just another debt he owed Kakarrot now.
As he flew home, he resolved not to train out in the depths of space any longer. It was too dangerous for a man who had a mate and child tucked away on Chikyuu. Perhaps if he had remained the mercenary warrior he was in the days of his youth, the danger factor wouldn't matter so much. But he couldn't bear the thought of Bulma and Trunks grieving over someone as unworthy as himself. Nor could he bear a bleak future without them, so he would not resent the lack of future expeditions. Earth was where he belonged, and Earth was where he would either attain Super Saiya-jin three or not. But he couldn't put his family through the emotional ordeals his own selfishness could lead to.
When he arrived home, surprising his mate and now teenage son, they had a surprise of their own. While he had been gone for the last two and a half months, Bulma had discovered she was pregnant and she was a little over three months along. Right before he fainted, he had a another, new reason not to be risking his life in the breaches of space...
And since he'd restricted his training to planet-side, he had not achieved Super Saiya-jin three. But in the interim, Bura had been born, their family had wound closer, and he found himself changing, though not through his power, but instead with his emotions and his outward expression of them. His wife and his daughter, like a dynamic duo, had completely unmade him. They had softened the stone-like heart of the stoic Prince he was, awakening a well of fierce protectiveness he'd never felt before in his life for his family.
Family alone was something that had been lost to him since his father, people, and planet had been destroyed by Freiza when he was merely five. When Bulma had been pregnant with Trunks, he had already been terrified of his feelings for her, but now the actual blood tie of their son that grew quickly within her womb...
He'd ran. Like a coward. Like a dog yipping in alarmed defeat. As strong as Freiza had been, as strong as Goku was, he was weaker to the strength that Bulma and their family had over him. But unlike his enemies, and sometimes rivals, Bulma did not exploit this power she had over him. She had only desired to keep it between the two of them, nurturing it tenderly and delicately, allowing it to grow to encompass the children that had sprang from their emotional and physical union.
It had taken him many years to become comfortable enough to transact emotions at the limited level that he was capable. An awkward and often uncomfortable transition that he'd made for the sake of the mate he loved above anything else in the universe, even himself.
And while he had grown and developed emotionally over the last few years, his power level had grown, but not he not attained the covetous position of Super Saiya-jin three. And thus Kakarrot had become increasingly disenchanted with their sparring sessions. It was not out of arrogance, or any sort of conceit, but Kakarrot had just longed for another adventure, a new challenge. Vegeta had simply ceased to be so in favor of the new family he was building, though he had not intentionally made the decision.
And so Vegeta couldn't truly fault Kakarrot for jumping at the chance to train a being that had the potential to be even more powerful than either of them. Majin Buu had been extremely powerful, a formidable opponent, and even Vegeta saw the power that laid untapped within the Majin's reincarnation. Kakarrot obviously intended to train Uub to be Earth's next line of protection and defense. Kami knew their children were not stepping up to the job...
That was another issue that irked Vegeta occasionally. Trunks was eighteen years old now, and had increasingly turned his focus away from becoming a powerful warrior to follow in his father's footsteps and instead was focused on becoming the next president of his mother's multibillion dollar company. Vegeta knew that he hadn't always been the emotional father figure that Trunks had needed, that he'd been no where near ready to be a father when Bulma had unexpectedly gotten pregnant with Trunks. But they had kept him, and Vegeta had adjusted as fast as he could to being a father, striving to do better than his own had.
Things had been easier the second time around with Bura, though he'd still had to change and adjust. He just did it more gracefully, though he still tripped up enormously. He was sometimes surprised that either of his children cared for him as much as they did. And so he didn't press Trunks to train or express his disappointment when his son sought to become a brilliant C.E.O. In some ways, he was training to be this planet's version of a lord or king; for he as developing a form of global domination through currency instead of one's physical prowess.
But, inwardly, he was still somewhat sad that his son hadn't fully embraced his Saiya-jin nature. And Vegeta had seen that similar expression on Kakarrot's face as he had watched his eldest son marry, settle, and domesticate instead of pursuing his strength. And now Goten was so weak that he'd been defeated by little Pan, who was barely five. Three demi Saiya-jin who had chosen to embrace their human heritage instead of their alien father's dead race.
Vegeta couldn't blame the hybrids for their lack of enthusiasm when regarding their father's near extinct heritage. Hell, he was the only one among them who could even speak the Saiya-jin tongue. And his vocabulary was more coarse because Nappa and Raditz were not well bred Saiya-jin individuals. Had he grown up on his home planet, Vegeta would have been far more well spoken and educated than he currently was. Freiza's educational system for his soldiers was the bare bones minimum, and Vegeta had read and studied a lot on the side just to become competent in his education. It was still hardly worthy for Saiya-jin royalty, but he'd had to make do.
A good portion of his life before he finally chose to stay on Earth was involved with making do. Working with the proverbial hand you were dealt. Bulma had sometimes questioned him on his past, as an attempt to better know the aline man she had fallen in love with, and was more often than not shocked...
"What was it like, growing up as a mercenary?" she had asked once, after the sweat from their love making had dried into their skin and they had lain in a comfortable silence. He laid upon their plush bed on his back, his head and shoulders propped up against the pillow and headboard. She was curled up beside him, propped up on an elbow, her free hand tracing over his rippling abdomen. He had his eyes closed, though she had known he wasn't asleep.
"Under Freiza, it was hell." he answered quickly, keeping his voice neutral. His face hardened into that mask that Bulma defined as the theater's 'Noh mask'; a neutral expression that could be interpreted in any manner to the viewer. He knew it adopted frozen features whenever his emotions ran the highest. And Bulma's question was innocent and well meaning, and thus she did not deserve the myriad of emotions that coursed through him to become hers as well.
Bulma sighed softly, resting her palm against his stomach. She looked up into his eyes, and under the dim light of the night sky that streamed into their bedroom, he could see that his answer was not satisfactory. But she didn't know what he was protecting her from when it concerned the demons of his past.
"I know it was bad. But...I want to know the truth. About how bad it was."
She was not apologetic, but just trying to understand the man whom she had built her life with. But he was too afflicted by the past to realize that. He revolted. "Why now?" he questioned angrily. "The past is done. Freiza's empire is dead. You and I are here, now, on Chikyuu and it is peaceful. Why drudge this up?" He tried to contain his panic and alarm. He didn't want to feel this old traumas and hurts. He'd kept them too long suppressed. To wake them now...it would not be wise.
She sighed softly, pressing errant kisses to his chest and stomach. He was covered in scars from battle, and she once tried to ask about where each one had come from. He didn't remember most of them, and wished he didn't remember some of them. So he'd remarked flippantly that he didn't remember and didn't care, so she shouldn't either. A mean comment to deflect her, just so she couldn't unlock the door that held all of his grievances of his life.
"You know me so well, I just want to know you well in return." She had become remarkably calm in the years since they'd met, learning that sometimes the softer she was the less reactive he was. Other times, though, she had to be tough and assert her will. Now was one of the times where her gentleness left him no room for argument.
"I have a lot of blood on my hands. I traveled all over the galaxy, with only two of my vassals to keep me safe while I grew into manhood." Vegeta began hesitantly. He wasn't sure what his mate would think of him if she knew the extent of the abuse he endured. Would she...pity him?
Nappa and Raditz, who were both dead now,. And Nappa and Raditz had both known much of their people and culture. Bulma realized that Vegeta probably missed Raditz and Nappa's company just for the fact that they weren't ignorant to the Saiya-jin culture.
He continued, his voice softening, "Everyone was my enemy, and Freiza had a personal vendetta against the Saiya-jin, and specifically me, so he was obsessively cruel to me."
Bulma felt the cold rush up her spine. If Freiza was obsessively cruel...it was probably something similar to what inmates experienced in prison, and she had seen documentaries on how ugly it got. "What...what would he do to you?" she questioned aloud, swallowing as her heart began pumping furiously. Oh Vegeta, I wish that monster hadn't hurt you...
He stiffened, sitting up and turning away from her. "It was along time ago." he protested softly, shoulders slumping. He was older now, in his mid forties, and been twenty nine when he'd first set foot on Earth with intent of destroying and taking the dragon balls. In that time he'd changed a great deal, but his memories never had. They were the constant in his present that kept him from being a better husband and father.
She sat behind him, resting her head on his muscled back. She wrapped her arms around him, wincing when he didn't respond to her embrace. "Vegeta...I'm sorry." she mourned aloud.
He raised his head, his gaze following the view from their window. "I would not be the man I am today had I not endured what I have. Though I am sorry that I am not better equipped to father our child. Perhaps I am hindered by the past...for Freiza tried to break me; mind, body, and soul." he admitted, feeling the shame well deep within him as he reviewed the memories that he still was not comfortable with, even after all the decades he'd carried them in his heart.
"I'm glad you're the father of our child." she said softly, as if to reassure him. And she was, as damaged and dysfunctional as Vegeta was, she loved and respected the man, and the warrior, he was. Trunks wouldn't be anywhere near amazing as he was if Yamucha or some other schmuck had sired him. Trunks was the best of the blend between both of them, and she would never change who she had chosen his father to be.
"I probably never should have been a father to begin with, I'm so..." Broken, he wanted to say. But, no, he couldn't admit such things aloud to anyone. They couldn't know his vulnerabilities. "I'm not suited for it, given my past." he replied earnestly, turning to look at his wife and mate of a decade. He knew he was not gentle, loving, or tender by any means. The few times he could muster those emotions was between his mate and himself in the privacy of their bedroom. Even hugging his own child felt awkward most times to him, though Trunks seemed to be able to transact emotions painlessly with his best friend Goten.
Trunks hadn't been a planned pregnancy, and if he and Bulma had been involved enough to discuss such issues as family planning, Vegeta would have probably been against having children at all. One of the reasons why he'd fled back when he'd discovered that Bulma was pregnant. He knew he wasn't able to give any child the emotions that had been brutally savaged from his psyche since his youngest, most impressionable years.
It had taken a long time for him to change. Once Trunks had been born he was a father, whether he liked it or not. But he knew he loved Bulma, though he had trouble expressing it, and so he strove to be a good father to please her. And he'd done well at some points, and not so well with others.
"Vegeta, I love you. We've both made our mistakes with Trunks, but we're together, and you're here. That's more than enough." Her comforts were nice, though he knew he wouldn't know the full extent of the damage he'd done to their son until he was an adult himself. And it was too late to change it.
"No one is perfect," his mate continued, "Trunks will realize that too, once he's grown. And he'll come to understand the man you were and are...the mistakes you and I made in coming to know one another. He'll make them too, with his own mate. Just different ones, that's all." She seemed content in knowing that nothing was perfect, though perfection had been his constant goal since he had been a child. Perhaps he needed to temperance himself somewhat.
He pinned her beneath him then, kissing her deeply and fully. "You are my one love." Was all he could say to his mate. He didn't know how to tell her that he needed her more than anything and she was the beacon of light that kept him as sane as he could be and kept him continuously drawing breath on this backwards mud-ball. She smiled and welcomed his embrace, and no more was said as their touches and caresses did all of the talking.
They had made do as well, it seemed, in their relationship and it's imperfections. They were both weird, in their own way, his mate and himself, and perhaps they were the only two who understood the other so well, nuances and all. The only ones who could put up with the other for the sake of each other. But, truly, they had a bond quite unlike any other they'd experienced, and were magnetizingly drawn to each other. Life without their counterpart would have been empty and droll.
She was still his saving grace on this pathetic planet, for Kakarrot and his son were both beyond his grasp in numerous ways now. Kakarrot had replaced him with Uub, and Trunks had replaced him with Goten. Kakarrot's need for the elusive ultimate battle potential was now fulfilled, and Trunks's need for mutual emotional interaction that he so desired was fulfilled. His mate and daughter were the only ones who needed him still. So now, in Kakarrot's absence, it was probably wise to keep his attention towards his family, as it had been since Bura had been born.
He halted his training session, concluding that Super Saiya-jin three didn't matter so much at the moment. Kakarrot probably wouldn't be back for weeks or even months to spar with him. His mate, however, mattered more than anything else. And he realized that she too, was hurt by Kakarrot's selfish decision. She probably needed him, or anyone, to extend their sympathies. He left the gravity room, shutting it off for the night. Being with Bulma was his utmost priority now. Training could wait.
BULMA WAS ACCUSTOMED to long hours toiling away in her lab, and often enjoyed the solidarity in the task. But tonight she just felt...unsettled, unnerved, and upset. Goku's selfish choices from this afternoon had definitely thrown her for a loop, and though she was experiencing her afflicted emotions, she knew that Vegeta was probably suffering extensively at the moment. Her shock and numbness was preventing her from moving, acting, or even really thinking. She was stuck at her lab station, fiddling with an invention that she wasn't even truly vested in, so that if she happened to make a mistake it wouldn't be devastating to her long hours of work.
She had known Goku as a teenager, and his absences became more frequent and extreme as the years had unfolded. And now, just when everyone thought peace and calm had been attained, Goku had shaken up all of their lives in his hunger for the thrill of battle. He'd promised to return for visits, but she knew in his childlike excitement he'd neglect to return as often as he could. Poor Chichi, her husband had been absent in her marriage just as much as he'd been present, and who knew how long he'd be gone this time around? Vegeta would leave on training excursions quite frequently, but he'd never left her for even a year, let alone years, on end. He was certainly more stable in Trunks's life than Goku was for his sons. Goku was quite thoughtless in comparison to Vegeta, though callous the Saiya-jin Prince was.
Nothing was constant, it seemed. No matter how badly she, or the other older members of the Z team, wanted to stay close knit, Goku's forgetfulness kept them from bonding as they should. She knew that as the years progressed they would all lose contact with one another. They would all inevitably grow apart if something didn't change, if some effort wasn't given. And Goku didn't seem to care about the family and friends he'd cultivated in the years he'd lived on Earth. None of them could keep up with him, the bright shooting star he was. They had had stopped and settled somewhere on the arc of their respective journeys, where Son Goku had never pried his gaze from the new horizon.
Shit, she barely ever saw Tienshinhan, Chaotzu, Roshi, Krillen and his family, or even Yamucha, her ex-boyfriend. Last she'd heard, he'd begun drinking excessively. He was on a downward slide again, for he had the habit of sinking into depressions that had been responsible, in part, for why their relationship had failed.
She sighed softly, pausing to adjust a mathematical error on her blueprint, and returned to her thoughts of the Z warriors. Krillen still lived at Kame House with that pervert Master Roshi, and she seriously questioned his judgment in subjecting his wife and daughter to that man. Marron was thirteen now, and Bulma saw how beautiful she was becoming. It was inevitable that Marron would blossom, really, for Juuhachigou was a stunning woman. Marron had the fortune of inheriting her mother's beauty. It was only natural.
But Roshi...had barely been appropriate when Bulma herself had been a teenager, and Marron was much more naive due to her sheltered upbringing. But now that she was older, Juuhachigou and Krillen were not as watchful of their daughter, while Roshi's lewd eyes were ever the more watchful. Bulma winced, inadvertently stabbing herself with the ballpoint of her pen. She studied the puncture wound that she'd inflicted upon her fingertip. It was rather deep, and she wasn't sure why she had lost control like that. It was almost stupid, really. But the more she found herself thinking about Master Roshi and Marron's impending womanhood, the more sick she felt. An ache in the pit of her stomach, an uneasiness that she could not seem to shake.
It was ridiculous, really, to feel so unnerved when your laboratory and home had the five-star security system. Not to mention your alien husband and child, who possessed extreme strength and supernatural powers, would kill any intruder in cold blood. A woman didn't have to worry much when these factors were tallied together.
She bit her lip. Roshi was typically harmless, but when he drank, a habit he'd increased over the years...well, it wasn't good.
The Capsule Corp president closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. These old fears and worries, hadn't she put them aside a long time ago? She was the beautiful and talented Bulma Briefs, who not only was the current president of a global company, but the wife of a studly Super Saiya-jin and mother to two wonderful children. Some imperceptible memories, she could never quite grasp them, nor did they seem forthcoming, could not be responsible for taking any of that away from her.
Old fears were immediately put to rest as a new fear presented itself as a shallow footstep that sounded through her lab. She jumped, standing the brace herself against her desk. "Who's there?" she called out fearfully. Kami-sama, she was more worked up than she realized. She sounded like a helpless, frail, slip of a thing.
"Vegeta." her husband answered, eying her uncertainly as he stepped from the shadows to be by her side. "Did I frighten you, woman?" he queried gently as his hand rose to cup her pale face.
Her heart was racing and she inhaled deeply as his touch comforted her. Vegeta was the one man who would save her, no matter who the enemy, what the cost. He had always kept her safe. "I was startled, though you don't frighten me." she answered, her mind half elsewhere, unthinking of the present.
His furrowing of his brow, his indignance at her statement, was almost comical. "Perhaps I should remind you why you should fear your prince and mate." A teasing tone, though an almost predatory gleam in his obsidian eyes had her trembling, which brought back his concern. "Woman, what ails you?" He took her in his arms, sitting at her well worn computer chair, cradling her like he would while comforting Bura from a scraped knee.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face. "I don't know. I guess today has just rattled me." she answered softly. Her heart race couldn't seem to calm, and she kept getting chills. Kami-sama...
He held her close, his sympathy astounding her. "I know. His decisions effect everyone around him, though he does not see it." He was well aware that his wife was going through some sort of emotional upheaval, but it seemed more extreme than her mere friendship with Kakarrot would warrant. What had her so unglued?
A resigned forlornness in his voice brought her back to the present. Vegeta's longtime rivalry with Goku had somehow changed today, though into what she couldn't possibly guess. That was for he and Vegeta to know, she assumed. "Oh, Vegeta, are you okay?" She withdrew to study him intently, and he blinked in surprise, and then chuckled softly.
"It just rearranges my priorities to what they should be, is all. And I am more concerned for you, woman, since you harbor affections for that third class buffoon." And you tremble as if you'd seen a ghost, he thought worriedly.
"I should be used to it by now." she echoed, for it reflected not only upon Goku's ignorant disappearances, but also her unsettled feelings regarding Master Roshi. They hadn't really been awakened for years, but once she had seen the way the old lecherous man was barely able to conceal his invasive glances at the young girl, they had hit her with full force, leaving her shocked and numb for hours. Goku's announcement had only added insult to injury.
Why was she dwelling on this inexplicable feeling? Was it because of Marron? Marron was barely thirteen, if Bulma recalled correctly. Too young to fend of an experienced molester like Roshi. Perhaps that defenselessness, that innocence, it called out to her. Though she didn't know why.
"Will you be alright?" He was concerned, she could tell. But she couldn't pull out of this frosty numbness that was closing in on her.
"Yeah." she smiled weakly. She pulled him into a hug, pressing kisses to his head, hair, and neck. "I'll be okay." But between the two of them, neither was convinced.
He frowned, wishing he knew what to say. She was so unnerved he wondered what had happened in the hour since he'd seen her last to startle her so. Unless...she was experiencing a past trauma, remembering it, setting off the emotional and chemical response as if it had just happened. He knew this type of trauma well, and even Earthling had the intelligence to identify it. Post Traumatic Stress.
He possessed it himself, much to his dismay. He thought that once he'd survived his childhood he'd be alright and could continue with his life. But as he had settled into his new life on Earth, he realized that one could never escape their past. No matter how you suppressed it, it had a way of manifesting itself somewhere in your outcome. He still suppressed most of his thoughts and emotions, recognizing them as far too dangerous and intense for what the present called for. What had his woman suppressed that now ailed her in her adult years?
Plenty of traumatizing things had happened in his woman's life, any or all of them could just be compiling past her threshold of tolerance at this point. She was fifty one now, technically halfway through her human lifespan. Were all of the enemies and events that had happened weighing heavily on her now? Had Goku's newest departure set off an avalanche of unresolved emotions?
"What happened to you? Tell me what is scaring you woman, because right now you are safe." he finally demanded, though gently.
"Master Roshi." she breathed.
His fists clenched, though he avoided be rough with her. "What did he do to you? I will kill him, I swear it." his voice had become menacing instantly, practically snarling. His power level spiked with his temper.
"Nothing. Well, I don't know Vegeta. I just have weird memories from when I was young, and I don't really remember, but seeing him look at little Marron the way he did today...it just...I didn't like it." she babbled, not really sure if she could explain it so that he could make sense of it, to understand her.
"Bulma, Freiza raped me when I was a child and continue to do so well after I was grown. If that bastard Roshi raped you, I will not be able to stay my hand." He grasped her hands, his urgency profound. His confession shocked them both, to the point of Bulma dissolving into tears.
He felt close to crying himself, for those memories were his alone to endure. Anyone else who ever knew of the extent he'd endured was long since dead. Vegeta had thought it would finally die with him. But if Bulma had endured similar abuses...he couldn't withhold something that could lend to a better understanding of one another.
"Oh, Vegeta, I had wondered, but I never actually knew." she wailed, falling into his arms. She cried for him, since he found himself unable. She loved him more than he loved himself. Bulma knew the level of sorrow that he should actually feel, though that part of his heart had already crumbled when Freiza had killed him on Namek.
He bit his lip, the dam breaking. Tears flowed, unbidden, down his face. Why now? They had been together for nearly twenty years, and only now had they revealed one of their most intimate, deep, and darkest secrets. "I'll kill him." he swore aloud, though neither was certain if he meant Freiza or Roshi.
She wiped at his tears, and he began to wipe at hers in response. "Don't kill Roshi, Vegeta. I don't know right now if he did or didn't..." she trailed off, too weak to give it mention. She grit her teeth and continued, "I don't want an innocent man to die for a crime he did not commit, however much of a pervert he may be."
He growled softly. "If you discover that he has...I will end him." he swore vehemently.
She nodded. "And I agree." It was a rare moment when they saw the most lethal sides of themselves reflected in the other. Had they been King and Queen of Vegeta's race, or perhaps rulers of Earth, their ambitions would be something to behold... perhaps it was better they were satisfied with a simpler life for the moment.
"I...please..." It was his turn to feel weak. He couldn't even speak it aloud again, either.
She softened, stroking his cheek lovingly. "You are beautiful to me Vegeta. You're safe with me. I'm not here to judge you, I just want to love you."
"I just wanted you to love me. That's all I want." he confessed, and Bulma wondered what sort of soft and gentle man Vegeta would have been had he not been born to a race of bloodthirsty warriors. What sort of sensitive and emotional person would he outwardly express himself as if he had not been traded for his planet's peace and raised as a mercenary?
That man existed, he was just locked deep within the recesses of Vegeta's armor plated heart. She gazed upon him wonderingly, stroking his mused hair. "I need you, just as you need me. I want you."
He opened up to her, kissing her deeply. She moaned, already tugging at the spandex outfit he was still wearing. He pulled away from her only to discard his spandex pants and tank top, his boots kicked carelessly to the side. She grabbed him, pulling his body back to hers, for she had quickly stripped herself of her clothing while he had his. He slammed up against her desk, nearly tipping it over, but his woman didn't wield that kind of strength. She laughed, kissing him deeply, her hands roaming over his frame as his did hers. They had come to know one another well physically and sexually over the years, yet they always managed to discover something new about one another.
He grabbed her, lifting her to sit her upon the crooked sitting desk. She succumbed to him as he plunged within her, illiciting a cry of pleasure from her. He still aroused her to near madness, even after twenty years. They had remained in their prime together, constantly challenging one each other to be better. She felt young never so much as when she was in his embrace. "I love you." she cried, her first orgasm washing over her.
He growled eagerly in response, keeping the tempo of his hips at a frantic pace. He didn't let up, and her next orgasm crashed upon her, her entire body trembling as she rode out the wave of it. Still, he continued, the desk cracking beneath his powerful thrusts. He rose to Super Saiya-jin, the jump of ki sending her to her next climax. She dragged her nails down his back and he sunk his teeth into her neck. She was accustomed to his habit, recognizing it as an integral part of his people's customs, and she treated it with the same serious reverence that he did.
His power jumped to the second level of his transformation, and she allowed his awesome ki to flow through her, relaxing into the yin as he became more yang. This technique that Vegeta had shown her kept her from getting harmed during their intimate encounters and thus far proven true. She shuddered. "I'm coming again." she moaned, her eyes locking with his.
He drowned in the depth of her eyes, losing himself to the point where he didn't know where he ended and she began. Their bond was reaching a new height, a new plateau of understanding for one another. "I love you too, Bulma." he whispered as he came with and within her, trembling from the charge that coursed through his spine. He collapsed in her arms and they laid upon the desecrated desk for some time. Nothing more needed to be said.