Author Note: This is a two part short story I wrote for Stupidoomdoodles over on Tumblr. Inspired by the idea of an AU where Vegeta survived the androids and raised (future) Trunks instead of Bulma.


Like many days before this one, today he had stared down the synthetic creatures he was sure would one day be the death of him and defiantly told them not today. Vegeta was fairly certain at this point his opinion on his survival didn't matter and that the androids kept letting him live because they found his attempts to stop them amusing. Most of the planet had already been scorched with death, and these days it was just him and the boy left standing between the androids and humanity's extinction.

"It's been nearly twenty years and you still haven't managed to purge one measly planet of life." He'd mocked as those robotic ice blue eyes watched him like hungry animals, "You two would have made piss poor planet trade soldiers."

"Well maybe we wouldn't have had to draw the entertainment out so long if some bitch hadn't destroyed every means of space travel on this archaic planet, stranding us here with your sorry ass!" The female one had barked irritated.

"Space is over rated" Vegeta had merely shrugged.

The truth was though that there had been many times he'd wished that there'd been at least one capsule corp ship left for him and Trunks to escape in and leave this doomed planet to rust with those damned killing machines. As he rested a hand on the crumbling doorframe of what was left of the Capsule Corp complex, Vegeta wondered if Bulma had known she'd be stranding him and their son in this hell when she'd programmed the self-destruction of the only human spacecrafts capable of getting the androids to another life bearing planet to be triggered by her own death. With a heavy breath he pounded a fist on the rudimentary intercom Trunks' had installed as a safety measure.

"Brat, open the damned vault door, I'm coming down." He hissed through the pain of his broken ribs and made his way towards the shelter's dead bolted doors.

The Androids were growing bored of him. One of these days they'd likely decide that leaving him unconscious as they killed another city wasn't worth the bother and he wouldn't wake up again to broken bones, choking on his own blood, but instead to hell fire. Sometimes he thought it would be better off that way. As the thought crossed his mind the heavy thud of the vault doors opening brought his thoughts back to why he didn't just give in to the temptation of death. He'd promised her as she'd lain dead in his arms that he'd protect and raise the boy who now looked at him with those same worried blue eyes his mother had once had.

"You struck a nerve with 18 again didn't you?" Trunks said with half hearted smirk as he inspected the freshest battle wounds, assessing how much of their limited supplies it would take to bandage up his father this time. "You know, if you keep taunting her like that it's going to get you killed. She's got a temper almost as nasty as yours."

"Fucking toaster had it coming." Vegeta grunted as his son made him remove his hand from his ribs so he could get a better look, not bothering to mention that he'd nearly lost it himself when the shebot had started talking shit about his deceased lover.

"Common, let's get you inside so I can fix you up." Trunks sighed knowingly as he pulled his father's weight to lean on him. Usually Vegeta would resist and claim he could walk fine on his own, but today he let the child have it his way. Today his body was demanding he acknowledge that it was getting older and no longer was as thrilled with his routine of daily beatings as it used to be.

This was clearly noticed by Trunks, though he didn't dare make any comment as he lead them back down into the vault, closing the multiple layers of protection behind them as they retreated into the only structurally sound remaining portion of the once great Capsule Corp Empire. The bunker had been Trunk's home since he was a baby and while it wasn't the most luxuriously furnished living quarters, it had self generated electricity and a decent size laboratory filled with the company's catalog of blueprints, among which were many of the last remaining traces of the mother he'd never known. There was also a sparse pantry, a simple kitchen, an open makeshift sleeping quarters and of course on his father's insistence, a training room with Trunks' own rudimentary version of his mother's design for a gravity simulator.

Trunks lead his father to the kitchen and left him propped against the counter as he went to grab the medical kit. By the time he'd returned Vegeta had already forced his own ribs back into place and rinsed most of the blood off himself with the kitchen sink. They both finished cleaning and bandaging the wounds in comfortable silence. It was part of the routine, and Vegeta was grateful for once he didn't have to tend to the boy's wounds as well. Although not having any help on the battlefield had left him worse for wear, and it was clear from the guilt on Trunk's young face that he felt partially responsible for his father's poor condition. Still they both knew it could have been worse.

"So," Vegeta said clearing his throat as he took on his customary awkward tone of trying to figure out how being casually social worked, "How's that blasted machine of her's coming along?"

There was a familiar glimmer of excitement in the boy's eyes as his smile lit up like a star. Unless it was related to the training room, Vegeta rarely took much interest in the projects Trunks' tinkered with. Repairing a Polaroid camera, or fixing up an irrigation system so they could have a rudimentary farm for helping the surrounding towns food supply wasn't exactly the sort of thing to hold the older Saiyan warrior's attention. This new project though was far more complex, and above all else, it had started with the discovery of Bulma's rough blueprints for a machine with the potential to save mankind. If all worked according to plan, it was in theory a vessel that could travel through time and prevent this whole mess from ever having occurred.

"I made real progress today thanks to the supplies you brought back the other day! Come and see!" The young man shouted excitedly as he tugged at his father's hand like he used to as a little kid, pulling him eagerly towards the lab. "I made a few minor modifications, but the frame is nearly complete!"

A few modifications seemed a bit of an understatement as Vegeta took in the sight of the skeletal structure of the machine cradling the already complete engine. He hadn't ever been able to make heads or tails out of Bulma's engineering, but he had studied the drawings enough to know that the original ship plans had been for a craft nearly half the size of what his son was now building. At this rate they'd have to go on a second scavenging trip to find enough materials to finish the outer hull.

"It's bigger" He stated plainly as he walked up to the bulking frame.

"It had to be." Trunks said with a proud grin, "Mom's original was designed to have only one passenger, the main pilot."

Vegeta glanced at the dismantled haul of a capsule corp brand hovercraft sitting to the side of the new machine. The interior had been stripped and fitted into the time machine's main compartment, which had in turn been extended to accommodate the two leather seats. "You've built yours to fit two." He noted with a frown.

"Well yeah" Trunks said looking a bit perplexed by his father's somber tone. "It wasn't like I was just going to build a time machine and leave you here on your own, Papa."

While Trunks would never say it, he had been getting increasingly worried about his father these days. The androids had never been easy to deal with, but at least when they'd had Gohan to help it had seemed manageable. Or perhaps that had been his youthful naivety talking, and their life had always been this precarious a dance with death. Still, it was apparent more than ever with each battle that Vegeta returned from, that the Saiyan Prince wasn't going to survive much more of this routine. Dark sunken eyes that had always looked so defiant in the face of exhaustion were wearier than they'd ever been and tanned skin puckered with decades of combat was now so marred it was hard to tell the scars apart from each other anymore. Tightly strung muscles were leaner than they should have been from lack of proper nutrition and that once thick flame of hair was thinning with age. The past twenty years had not been particularly kind to Vegeta, though he insisted it didn't bother him since life had never been all that kind to him to begin with. When Trunks had found the blueprints to the time machine, he had seen the potential to reverse the damage done to his home world, but he had also seen the potential to save his father's life.

"I'll see if I can find you more scrap metal tomorrow after training." Vegeta said with a slight twitch of a smile, as he assured himself that damned boy had gotten that softness from his mother.

"You can take a day's rest you know." Trunks suggested, "Let your wounds have some time to heal-"

"I've survived far worse Boy, and you know it." Vegeta cut him off with a smirk, though the confidence in it felt hallow. Most his wounds today were superficial. They'd merely been toying with him. It wasn't lost on him that he had once toyed with his own quarry in such ways when he knew he could easily have slaughtered them on the spot, just so that he could make things a bit more entertaining. That entertainment had never lasted long though and always gave way to the urge to deliver a swift and painful death. He knew his was coming soon. He could only hope that it would buy Trunks enough time to finish the time machine.