Author's Notes: I don't know how much more I can extend on this story after this point. If you want more, give me prompts and I'll see what I can do!

"Oh my God… Ugh," Bulma leaned over the side of the bed and vomited once more into the large bucket that Vegeta had brought in. Shakily she reached her hand up, wiping the remains of what was at one point chicken soup from her lips before she began coughing even more. "I feel like my stomach just raped my brain… Oh God-" and she dry heaved once more, wishing she had a pony tail holder to pull her hair out of her face.

… Or at least a more competent husband…

Where was he? He should have been at her side, damn it! He had been helpful earlier! He had even fed her! But when she got sick, he had seemed distracted. He dragged a bucket in, dropped in loudly at the side of her bed with a cold grunt before hurrying off.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to be pitiful and he can't watch me and feel guilty about it," she growled, struggling up to her feet weakly. "I'll find you, Vegeta… And when I do… Oh, it won't be pretty. Not pretty at all." Had she had the energy, she would have laughed manically at the end of that little spiel. Considering she didn't even think she could talk any more than that without vomiting she decided to not press her luck any further.

Dragging her feet through the hallway, she began to listen for anything that would tell her where that worthless warrior of a man was. She was going to let him have it, she decided. As she began to work her angry speech out in her head she suddenly heard something.

It was Bra, in the bathroom, throwing her little guts up.

Bulma's heart sank at the sound of her daughter coughing and sobbing after she heaved into the toilet. She began to shuffle faster and then she heard the man she'd been searching for.

"Shhhh," Vegeta's confident voice came, "It's going to be alright, little one."

She smiled softly but suddenly felt a gag reflex and she hacked a little, leaning over and starting to cough the hallway.

"Bulma?" she heard his voice call out, but she hit the ground on her knees. "Bulma!" He was at her side now. "Hey, what are you doing out here? Have you lost your damn mind?" his tone was harsh but worried. He was harsh because he was worried. "You need to be in bed. You need to- Bra, stay put- Bulma, what are you- Bulma. Bulma… What… Bulma… Bed… Stupid stupid… Absolutely… Bra, stay PUT!"

His sharp scream at Bra made Bulma snap back into reality completely and she blinked her eyes. "Oh… Vegeta… Hey, I was looking for you…" she smiled dumbly up at her husband's worrying face. He really didn't seem to understand the fact that humans got sick.

"You should have stayed put. I told you that Bra got sick. I told you to stay put. Why don't you ever listen … stupid stupid… I just can't… ugh, of all the things I do…" his voice was fading in and out like a pair of headphones that needed to be replaced and only worked if you wanted to listen to something that seemed like it had a cause of stereo hiccups.

"You're silly, 'Geta," Bulma laughed up at him groggily. "Silly silly Saiyan boy," she grinned and Vegeta's eyebrows scrunched together even tighter.

She saw his lips move but heard nothing that came from them. "Hu…h…?" the room started spinning and she reached out for him and his warm arms enveloped her. "Bra, stay put," Vegeta was saying again to the little girl who was softly chiming something in the background. "Bra, stop it. Stay away. You need to stay stable," he kept saying. Stable? Then walking around probably was dumb of Bulma to decide to do… Huh. She didn't remember him telling her to stay put.

"You're eyes are bloodshot. Bulma, you need to rest," his voice was pleading. She'd never heard her prince's voice so desperate. "Bulma, hey… Hey, can you hear me? Bulma… Bulma, damn it! You're no good to me as this giddy sick vegetable!" he snapped and she blinked her eyes fully open, staring at him with her mouth open slightly like a gaping fish.

"… That's not very nice, 'Geta," she informed him, cocking her head slightly.

"Daddy… Daddy…" Bra whimpered in the background. She was in the door of the bathroom, her body shaking like a Chihuahua left out in a snowstorm with nowhere to take shelter. "Daddy, fix her… Fix her, Daddy," her voice broke as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh, baby, I'm fine," Bulma whispered. Bra didn't react like she heard the words. She must not have heard her. "Baby, I'm… I'm…" Bulma's lips pursed together, "I-I'm…"

Then her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the head of Capsule Corporation passed out in her handsome prince's arms.

"Daddy!" Bra cried out, running over to her parents as Vegeta stood up.

"I told you to stay put," Vegeta grumbled, hoisting her up into his arms along with her mother. "You need to listen to me," he added as an afterthought as he began to walk to the bedroom.

"Daddy… You were supposed to fix her. Daddy, fix her," Bra stared up at him with eyes large and pleading. "Daddy, please… Please… Mommy said people will do what you want if you say please and I've said please to you so many times and you haven't fixed her!" she broke into little sobs.

Vegeta's eyes widened and he looked at his daughter before looking down at Bulma, motionless and feverish in his arms. He quickened his pace and reached the bedroom Bulma had deserted only ten minutes before. He set the two blue-haired girls on the bed. Bulma moaned sickly and Bra continued crying.

"Stop that. She's going to be okay," Vegeta said firmly to his daughter and she shook her head quickly.

"Nuhuh! She was better before and then you gave her that food and she got worse and I ate some and now I'm sick! It's your fault, Daddy! It's all your fault! Mommy's going to die and it's your fault! You said you'd fix her and you didn't! You said you would! You said so! You SAID so!"

"I never said that!" Vegeta found himself arguing back with the small girl.

"Yuhuh! You said so! You said y-you'd fix her! That you could make her strong like you!"

"I NEVER SAID THAT, YOU STUPID CHILD!" Vegeta screamed, "STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH! I NEVER CLAIMED TO DO ANYTHING OF THE SORT!"

His chest heaved with emotions as he glared down fumingly at the young girl on the bed. The child who mirrored her frustrating mother in every way, shape, and form only to have everything enhanced by the genes she had inherited from her father. Bra's eyes were moistening with more tears, her eyebrows raised in shock and her little plump lips were opened slightly in fear. Fear of the monster that had overtaken her daddy. Daddy would never say that. Daddy never screamed like that. Daddy never got worried.

"Daddy, you're sick, too. You're not normal," she whispered the words like it would make up for the volume the prince had taken only moments before. The finality made Vegeta's heart sink.

"I'm perfectly fine," he spat. "You need to stop assuming. You're too much like your stupid mother."

"… You're being mean. Stop it-t," Bra whimpered.

"You need to listen to me for once in your ignorant life!" he snapped, "You stupid child, I'm doing the best that I can for your mother! Do you understand that!? I'M DOING THE BEST THAT I CAN!"

"Dad! What the hell!?" Vegeta felt his son's hands gripping his arms and snatching him away from the sight of the little crying girl on the bed. Trunks pushed Vegeta out of the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, staring down at his father in shock, "What are you doing!? Yelling at Bra like that! She's just a little girl!"

"She's not listening to me! She never listens to me! She constantly talks when I tell her to be quiet and she never stays put! She needs discipline!" Vegeta hissed up into the face of the violet haired teenager. "She needs to be taken care of now while she's still impressionable! She-"

"That's right, Dad! She's still impressionable!" Trunks snapped, pushing Vegeta into the wall and cornering her. "Bra isn't like ME. She's sensitive! She can't handle you screaming at her!"

"SHE SAID I POISONED BULMA AND I DIDN'T! AT LEAST I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE!"

Trunks stared down at Vegeta, "What?" he took a step back from the hulking small man as the prince took deep breaths.

"I didn't poison her."

"I heard that part. Why would she think you poisoned her? What happened?"

Vegeta looked away from Trunks, his eyebrows pulled together in a tight line. "I cooked soup. They both ate it. They both got sick."

The abrupt laughter from Trunks caught Vegeta off guard and he turned to look at him in shock, "What are you laughing about!? What is wrong with you!? They're both ill because of me!"

"You gave Mom, who I thought was the bad cook, food poisoning!" Trunks laughed out, "Wow! And she's already sick! You just topped her original illness!" he chuckled out.

"Shut up!"

Trunks quickly lost the humor of the situation and frowned at his royal father. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I just think it's ironic is all," he smiled.

"The irony is lost on me," Vegeta spat the words like venom up at Trunks.

Trunks smiled, "Did you eat it?"

"… That's hardly what we're talking about right now," Vegeta huffed, crossing his arms even though he was a little unsure of the topic they were currently talking about. He was positive that him not eating the soup was not relevant.

"Why didn't you eat it?" Trunks was still smiling down at him obnoxiously.

"I wasn't hungry," Vegeta hissed angrily.

"Liar."

"I live in a family of accusers and extortionists!" Vegeta declared moodily.

"You didn't think it looked good," Trunks was still smiling like the cat that ate the canary, "and even though you didn't think it was good for YOU, a SAIYAN, you gave it to your human wife and half human daughter? Gee, Dad, that's kind of shitty of you-"

Trunks was silenced by a punch to the jaw.

"For once I wish you were at that stupid Earthly learning facility," Vegeta snarled the words at Trunks, who was trying to remember how to move his head at the moment, before he walked back into the room where Bulma and Bra were. The door slammed behind him and he left the last of the family outside in the hallway alone.

"Daddy, you shouldn't yell so much," Bra frowned up at her father, staying by her mother's side like a little mini-me.

Vegeta turned his full attention to the cerulean eyes locked on his face. "Why the hell not?"

"It hurts my ears," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"Well then," he grumbled sarcastically and he took a seat by the bed, sneering at the bucket of vomit by the side.

"You're either really quiet or really loud. Daddy, you should find a good medium," Bra nodded firmly.

Vegeta watched her, "I'm not quiet. There's a difference between being quiet and knowing when not to speak."

"You NEVER talk."

"I feel like I've already had this conversation today," Vegeta mumbled, rubbing his temples as he thought back on Bulma's words earlier that evening; 'You never talk to me.'

"Maybe that means you should talk more to broaden your conversations," Bulma's voice came tiredly as she opened her eyes sickly and looked at Vegeta.

"If you even think of sitting up or moving I'm going to knock you out," came his not-so-gentle warning.

She smiled gently, "What happened?" she asked.

"You fell asleep on your feet," Bra answered with a warm smile.

"Ahh… Okay," Bulma yawned. "Sleep doesn't sound like a bad idea right now, actually."

"You should sleep too, Bra."

"Daddy! No!" Bra whimpered, seeming like she'd already forgotten about their fight minutes earlier.

"Yes. You need to sleep," Vegeta spat and he stood up from the chair, grabbing the bucket from the side of the bed. He glanced down into the contents despite his better judgement and gagged.

"Puss," Bulma said insensitively on the bed.

Vegeta grunted at her and left with the bucket as Bra cuddled up to her mother. "Mommy, I wanna make Daddy talk more," she informed her pushily.

"Good luck with that. It took me 8 years to find out his favorite color," Bulma scoffed.

"What is it?" Bra asked in excitement.

"Navy. I'm such a retard," Bulma rolled her eyes. Of course it was navy, that was the only color the man seemed to wear. He hadn't really come out and expressed in a florid manner that the color actually WAS navy though. Bulma remembered the day she had this epiphany very clearly.

They had been in the kitchen, Trunks had been about 5 and Bulma had said, "What color plate do you want, Trunks?" Little Trunks had said, "I want purple because that's my favorite color!" Vegeta had harrumphed at that and Bulma looked at him expectantly, "What about you?" "Navy."

That was the most flamboyant he'd ever gotten with colors.

"I like Navy. It's Daddy's color. I like it," Bra declared stubbornly on the bed.

"Good to hear, hun," Bulma kissed Bra on the forehead. "Let's get some rest, okay?"

"I wanna ask to be sure though! I change my mind about my favorite color all the time!" Bra insisted.

"Go for it," Bulma threw her hand in the air lazily at her daughter's energy level even while sick.

Vegeta walked back in with the bucket and plopped it back on the ground.

"DADDY! WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?" Bra demanded like a bridge keeper in a famous English comedy.

The Prince of all Saiyans stared at her like she had lost her mind for at least 10 seconds before he replied, "Red."

"What!? I thought it was navy!" Bulma stared at him in shock.

"No. Red." Vegeta's finality made her blood boil.

"Since when?" she glared at him.

"Since forever, you strange woman," Vegeta's eyebrows scrunched together as he slipped into his chair gracefully and crossed his arms.

"That's my favorite color now, too," Bra declared suddenly and the two parents looked at her in surprise.

"Huh?" they gawked in confused unison.

"If it's Daddy's favorite-- it's mine now too," Bra crossed her arms in a mirror of the man sitting opposite of her and she stuck her nose up a little, "And I never want to wear anything not red ever ever ever ever again."

"…Whatever, I want to sleep," Bulma groaned and she rolled away from the two.

"Get to sleep," Vegeta urged the two with a nod.

"Only if you sleep to," Bra ordered.

"Fine. I'll sleep to."

"Over here," she patted the spot on the bed beside her that her mother wasn't occupying. "RIGHT HERE."

Vegeta stared at her for a long time, "You are just as weird as your mother," he sighed but smiled softly, slipping up onto the bed and into the spot that Bra had patted. The little girl wrapped her arms as well as she could around his chest and he smirked just a bit.

"You never did this until you had Bra," Bulma mumbled.

"You never got this sick before Bra," Vegeta's curt reply came.

"Whatever. Just shut up."

"Unlike you, I'm well accustomed to staying quiet when asked to."

"Cocky bastard."

"I love you guys so much," Bra chimed.

"Whatever," the two grumbled in unison, rolling away from each other in a moody fashion as Bra giggled herself to sleep.