.::TWO::.

Bulma loved to read. It was one of her favorite pastimes that she rarely was able to do. Tonight it was Wuthering Heights. A classic. Bulma loved everything about the book. The twisted love triangle. The backstabbing and conniving. The forbidden love. It was a personal favorite read, and the proof was in its ruined spine and permanently flappy dog-eared pages. Bulma had retreated down into the living room to read while she waited on Goku to arrive for the medical kit; stopping first to make a cup of coffee (Jamaican Blue Mountain, of course).

She was curled up on the couch snuggled underneath a warm, velvet blanket with the old book upon her lap. Bulma sipped her coffee happily as a soft breeze blew gently through the opened French doors. It was turning out to be a lovely, quiet evening and she was enjoying it immensely. It had been quite a while since she had savored time alone with a book without interruption. Her mother wasn't around breathing down her neck, and her father wasn't around to add additional commentary about work, which he tended to do often. Yamcha wasn't bombarding her phone regularly either. Though, perhaps that was because she hadn't bothered to let him know she had finished with work in the first place.

Bulma cringed and immediately felt guilty. Why hadn't she touched base with him yet? Did a part of her not want his company? His texts? His calls? His kiss? His. . . touch? Did she honestly just want to be alone? Bulma shook her head dismissing the troubling thoughts. She did not want to dwell on them any longer and continued reading hoping to distract herself.

After a while, it worked. Thoughts of Bulma's somewhat troubled love life filtered out of her mind and were replaced with images of Catherine's wild passion for Heathcliff as the two snuck around together right under Edgar's nose. An hour passed, and Bulma became so engrossed with her book she didn't even pay attention to the hum of the Gravity Chamber when it shut off. Her eyes never left the tattered pages, so she didn't notice when danger stood menacingly on the back porch, staring at her through the opened double doors.

Until it was too late and he was on her. . .

In the blink of an eye, Vegeta crossed the living room floor and his thick hand wrapped around her slender neck. Bulma shrieked and dropped the book. Vegeta pushed her back and pinned her against the couch, his towering body hovering over hers dominantly. Her heart bounced erratically within her chest and his penetrating gaze caught hers. She found herself suddenly transfixed and unable to look away from his dark stare. He smirked and bent his head down towards hers, his warm breath brushing lightly against her flushed cheeks. Bulma blinked slowly, fear coating every inch of her body. It was then she noticed the blood. Oh my Kami, the blood! How hadn't she noticed it before?

Thick scarlet blood coated most of Vegeta's left arm and bare chest. Bulma watched with fright as some dripped down from his forearm and onto her. She attempted to scream, but it was cut short when he began to squeeze, quickly cutting off her air supply. She gasped and reached up, trying to pull his massive fingers away from her throat before he crushed it but it was to no avail; Vegeta's hand like a vice around her neck.

"Did you think that was going to be funny, woman?" he asked, his voice low and frightening, his stare never wavering from hers.

She blinked back tears that began to form as realization of what was happening started to make more sense. The bots! He must have used the bots. Bulma finally tore her eyes from his, and she then caught sight of a large and bloody gash on is left side but she only saw it briefly before he tossed her to the other end of the couch. Bulma, terrified, attempted to scramble off the piece of furniture but was stopped when Vegeta forcefully grabbed her leg, pulling her back towards him. Trembling in his grasp, Bulma whimpered, attempting a quick apology, but no words were voiced. She was too frightened to make a coherent sentence. He wrapped his meaty fingers around her frail neck again, and tears immediately fell, blurring her vision.

Vegeta then slowly lifted her up off the couch. His gripped tightened, and she coughed and sputtered, trying to pry his fingers away from her neck. With a smirk on his bloodied face, Vegeta held her above him, her feet dangling precariously above the ground. She attempted to scream again, but as the last burst of air expelled from her lungs, they constricted tightly within her chest, burning her throat. She tried kicking at him frantically hoping to, at the very least, release his grip slightly, but the monster below her only chuckled viciously through his clenched teeth as he watched her struggle for air. Vegeta held a sadistic look in his eye, and a smirk was still plastered upon his lips. He was enjoying himself, and he wasn't even trying to hide it.

"That little surprise isn't so funny now, is it?" Vegeta spoke softly, his voice able to pierce through the fog that began to cloud her mind.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but the burn in her throat and the fuzziness within her mind wouldn't allow it. She was beginning to lose it. Comprehensive thought was becoming a more laborious task to complete as her mind became jumbled.

"Oh? What's that? Squeeze tighter you say? Ha! Well, if you insist."

And he did; his hold way stronger than before. After a few last desperate attempts to kick him off, Bulma just gave up. Her strength was depleting the longer he held her airway closed. It was no use. She wasn't even bothering him as he still held her firmly, his grip never wavering. Finally, her hands fell from around his wrist and hung limply at her sides, her eyes slowly slid shut.

This is it, she thought. This is how I die.

The next thing she knew, Bulma was lying on the floor staring at Vegeta's dirty shoes. She gasped, coughing as her lungs took in the precious air of life.

Oh wonderful, beautiful oxygen!

Her throat was on fire, and each cough felt as though a razor were cutting deep gashes within. But she didn't care; she was alive! That was the only rational thought her mind could cling to at the moment. Feeling the tears coming in full force, Bulma curled up into a ball at his feet, hugging her knees to her chest, needing desperately to hold onto something stable.

XxX

"What do you have to say for yourself you pathetic excuse for a human?"

A loud sob escaped the cowering woman before him as she began to cry on the floor. This wasn't the answer Vegeta had hoped for. He had expected to hear her beg for mercy. Beg for her life before he readily took it away!

"Shut up," he said flatly, annoyed.

Vegeta held his hand out, collecting a small amount of energy within. It was time to end this once and for all. He didn't have to put up with her or her family. Or anyone else on this planet for that matter. Vegeta could train on his own. He didn't need this useless woman in front of him. He could prepare and grow stronger the old-fashioned way. The way his father had taught him when he was only a boy. He didn't need this woman or her father's cheaply made technologies. Kakarot surely hadn't needed them when he ascended. But as that thought crossed his mind, Vegeta stopped himself and bristled. He hated to even think about it. He closed his eyes and shook the painful memories out of his head and turned his attention back to the sobbing woman in front of him who was about to be no more. Her fate was already sealed. Had been the moment the blast had hit his side. She had taken a cheap shot against him, and she needed to be taught a lesson. And that lesson was death. No one took cheap shots on him and lived to tell the tale. He would enjoy seeing the light disappear from within her bright blue eyes. He had wasted so much time on her and for what? All she seemed to bring him were machines that could never hold up against his blasts. And though when the bots did hold up, he had noticed a slight improvement in himself, that was beside the point. The ball of energy he held in his hand now was enough to do the trick. He could end her in a second. It was just enough to mangle her small body but not too harsh as to destroy the entire side of the house. He smiled. Yes, he was going to enjoy this.

"Vegeta, what are you doing?" a voice called from behind.

Snarling, Vegeta jumped and quickly turned facing this new intruder; the ball of ki in his hand growing exponentially bigger. His blood boiled at the sight before him. It was none other than Kakarot. Vegeta's jaw snapped shut; he had had enough of people sneaking up on him for the day. The lower class Saiyan was outside on the back porch, standing there looking like a God in all his glory as the lights from the Gravity Chamber shone around his darkened silhouette. Vegeta's brow furrowed, and he looked back down at the woman by his feet who had instantly stopped whimpering as soon his enemy had spoken. He watched as she quickly sat up, crawled away from his side and over to Kakarot who, in turn, bent down to examine her. The lower class Saiyan slowly lifted up her chin, and she winced, her brow knitting together tightly as he accessed the damage. Let him. What was Kakarot going to do? Teach him a lesson?

Though as much as he hated the fact that his number one enemy was standing less than twenty feet away from him, Vegeta was more curious as to why he was here? Had the bitch silently contacted him somehow? He stared down at the injured woman. She had manipulated him and had deserved everything she got. He was only sorry that he hadn't been able to finish what he had started. Vegeta dispersed the ki that surrounded his hand and balled his hands into fists at his sides, attempting to control his anger. Her neck was already turning black and blue, and he watched as Kakarot let go of her chin, shaking his head.

"How could you do this to her, Vegeta?" he questioned.

Kakarot then patted the woman on the shoulder, giving her a small smile and nod before he stood, finally giving Vegeta his full attention. Vegeta instantly went into defense mode. How dare Kakarot question his actions? Kakarot was beneath him! Vegeta's mind churned as his anger grew within.

"You see this?" Vegeta yelled, pointing to the bloody gash on his side. "This fucking woman did this to me! ME!"

The veins in his throat threatened to pop as he shouted at the top of his lungs. Under Kakarot's scrutinizing gaze Vegeta felt cornered, his anger, along with his blood pressure, rising to the breaking point. Vegeta clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into the skin of his palm, drawing blood.

"Now how did she do such a thing?" Kakarot asked gently, placing his hands upon his hips.

Vegeta could tell Kakarot held back a sneer and that was when he finally snapped. Items within the room began to shake as his anger grew. Pictures trembled upon the walls while the floor beneath their feet began to buckle. Vegeta was about to take a step forward when a sharp pain shot through his wound and straight up his spine, stopping him and reminding him quickly of the state he was actually in. Reality set in and after a moment the room around them finally quieted. He looked at the floor and was ashamed. How could he have let this lower class Saiyan get to him so easily? Kakarot was like the dirt on the bottom of his boot. Vegeta had better control over himself, and he knew better than to try and pick a fight when he was in this sort of condition.

"Now how about we just all calm down and take a breather, huh?" Kakarot smiled, speaking calmly with his hands raised up in front of him as if he were surrendering. "I doubt Bulma could have done that to you."

Vegeta said nothing. He didn't need to explain himself to Kakarot, a lower class warrior. Vegeta straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. He pulled his gaze from Kakarot and turned to look out the window. The moon was shining brightly down upon him, and he basked in its white grandeur for a moment, reminiscing the time when he still had his tail and all the glorious destruction that came with it. That was something else this filthy mud-ball of a planet had taken from him.

"Bulma has invited you into her home. Has fed you, clothed you, and gave you a place to sleep at night. Much less all the training gear anyone could ever hope for! We're all here to help each other out." Kakarot closed the gap between them slowly and placed a hand down on Vegeta's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

"I don't need your sympathy Kakarot." Vegeta brushed off his hand, never once taking his eyes off of the brilliant moon. "I did what I had to do."

"I'm not giving you my sympathy. I'm trying to help you Vegeta." He chuckled lightly, which did not help Vegeta's mood.

"Can't you see? No one is your enemy here. No one is out to get you. We're all in this together. The androids that are coming in three years, yeah, those are the ones you need to be worrying about."

"Hn."

Hearing enough vomit spill from Kakarot's mouth, Vegeta turned and walked away from the younger Saiyan. He didn't want to be around Kakarot anymore. Vegeta wasn't in the mood to hear a life lesson about morals. Who was Kakarot? His mother? Growing up on earth had been the worst thing that could have happened to him, and Vegeta slightly pitied him for it. Living around these beings had made him weak and venerable, stripping him of his true savage Saiyan heritage. Vegeta held back a yawn that threatened to escape as he turned the corner and exited the living room leaving the younger warrior behind to deal with the sniveling woman. His sleeping quarters were calling his name. And after he obtained a hot shower, dressed his wound appropriately, and then rested up, he would begin again tomorrow.

XxX

Goku stood watching Vegeta's bloodied back as he exited the living room. He wiped the sweat from his brow, thanking Kami above he had gotten here when he had, otherwise. . . Goku shuddered to even think about it. Oh Vegeta, when will you ever learn? Hearing soft whimpers behind him, Goku turned around and looked down at Bulma. Sadness instantly swept through his body, and he frowned. How ever would these two get along? Especially after this. Blowing out a puff of air, Goku walked back over to Bulma and bent down. He placed one hand on her shoulder, and the other lifted her chin so she'd look at him in the eyes. Tears still fell silently down her puffy, red face and he wiped them away.

"You okay?" he questioned softly. She only nodded. "Can you talk at all?"

Bulma sat up a little straighter, and Goku watched as she swallowed hard before speaking. "A. . . little. . ."

"Here, let me help you to your room, okay?"

He gave his friend a sweet smile that hopefully portrayed his sorrow for what had taken place here tonight. Goku scooped Bulma carefully into his arms and retreated the same way Vegeta had.

Goku had known Bulma for as long as he could remember. She was practically his oldest friend and one he held dear to his heart. She was shaking and still held a hand clasped around her soft, bruising neck. How dare Vegeta treat her this way? And after everything, everyone's been through together? Goku's brows furrowed in concentration as he took the stairs two at a time with his friend in tow. Once he reached the closed door of her bedroom, Goku set Bulma down gently.

"Thank you, Goku," Bulma whispered placing a hand on the side of his face. Her eyes held a sadness Goku almost couldn't handle. His throat closed up slightly, and his sinus' began to sting. He smiled, attempting not to let his emotions show through. The last thing Bulma needed was for someone like him to break down in front of her. Goku swallowed the dry lump in his throat, unable to speak at the moment.

"That. . . kit," she began.

"It's okay. I saw it downstairs. I'll pick it up on my way out. And I'll clean up down there before I go," he said a little too quickly.

There was a pause, and Bulma stared down at her feet, fidgeting slightly. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean for that to happen."

Goku was flabbergasted.

"Bulma, are you serious?" He almost chuckled but quickly thought better of it when large tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes again. "Hey. . . Bulma. . . don't. It's not your fault," he said gently.

"But it is," she said, her bottom lip quivering. "It is my fault! The bots. . . They-"

Unable to stand to see her this way, Goku immediately reached for her and wrapped his arms around his friend. Bulma relaxed against him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Goku almost lost it when she began to cry. He stared up at the ceiling, his chin resting on the top of her head, willing is own tears not to spill from his very own eyes. He let her cry against him, and he soon lost track of time. But after a while, her sobs lessened, and Goku placed his hands on her shoulders, kissing the crown of her head.

"Listen. . ." he began, unsure of how to continue but feeling as if he should. "Don't. . . Don't hold a grudge against him for what happened tonight."

Bulma instantly froze under his touch. She took a step back and stared up at him. "What. . . ?"

"Just, um. . ." He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back on the heels of his feet, attempting a light chuckle. "Just don't let him get to you, okay? There's, and I know no one believes me, but there is a real person underneath that hard exterior of his. We all just have to try and find it." Bulma took another step back and placed a hand on the doorknob of her bedroom door clearly wanting him to shut up. He spoke quickly.

"You didn't see the side of him I did before Frieza took his life. You didn't see the actual tears he cried. You didn't see the human emotion that flowed from his hard eyes. I did, Bulma," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper. "I did. And a man who supposedly has no heart cannot shed tears as he did. I know there's a good person inside. I hope you, and everyone else can see what I saw in him that day."

Bulma attempted a small smile, but Goku knew she was only doing it to appease him. "I hope so too." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Goku. Thank you. I'll call you in the morning about that kit."

Goku nodded once, and she retreated into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her and leaving Goku standing alone in the dark hallway. He sighed heavily and hung his head. You of all people need to see that side of him. Thinking back to when Goku first learned about the destruction the androids were going to cause, the boy from the future had also told him to try an attempt to keep the peace between Bulma and Vegeta. Goku had promised the kid that much, but already it seemed like it was going to be way easier said than done.

::AN::
Updated 5/9/18