RECONSTRUCTION
A Future Spin-Off to Twice Upon a Time
By NinjaWhisper
Summary- It all fell apart and Bulma had to manage the pieces. Alone, she raised her son in a desolate apocalyptic world. Strong-willed and brave, she accepted this fate, moving on despite hope only coming to another timeline and not her own. Then he came back. . . and they had a new task- fixing something that was never whole to begin with.
Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation
AN- Anybody else really excited for the DBZ Rock the Dragon DVD boxset? It releases August 13 for $89.99 on Amazon.
Chapter 4
It hit her as she was planning the new GR that everything was wrong. Bulma groaned and scribbled randomly with her pen across the piece paper. It was a waste of precious resource because simple supplies such as lined paper were hard to come by, but she was so overcome by frustration. Things weren't supposed to be this way. She put so much effort into Vegeta and deserved respect, and love in return. He was back, here with her, but only bodily. She slammed her palm down on the worktable, demanding more from a God long dead.
In the dim light, Bulma hunched over her half-hearted project, putting her head in her hands. The pen rolled off the table and onto the cement floor with a soft clang. When she'd sent Trunks to the past she'd done it selflessly and with good intent, but now she couldn't help but feel longing and jealousy for the other side. At least that Bulma had Capsule Corporation to fall back on when Vegeta treated her like shit. That Bulma wouldn't have to feel this lost, lonely, and fallen, without purpose or direction.
Thinking of the past, Bulma questioned when the fire died within her. Her former self never would have taken Vegeta's remarks and sexual mistreatment lying down. She would have stood up and fought, and gave him hell back.
Taking a shaky breath, Bulma lifted her head and blinked. She crumpled the drafted GR plan and tossed it into the trash. True, a part of Bulma died when her friends perished, and especially when she'd gotten word of Vegeta's demise, but now she had them back, everyone but Goku at least. Why did she still feel so misplaced? Was she still so shallow that she needed power and wealth to feel happy? No, she was Bulma Briefs, the girl who traveled around the world with a radar in search for magical balls. The problem fell on her alone. She'd given up somewhere along the road.
The realization washed over her and she knew she had a decision to make. Was she going to keep sleepwalking through life, or wake up and resurrect that feisty passion that made life worth living? The answer was easy. She was Bulma Briefs, and dammit, she was going to crawl out of this pit. She was going to take back her dreams, hope, and goals. The future did not have to remain barren and desolate- it was something unwritten.
Bulma stood, bent, and retrieved the blue ballpoint pen. She clicked it with determination. She was not strong but she had brains and spirit. It was time to work toward gathering the pieces and get what she wanted.
The stasis Vegeta and she were in would have to shift. He was just as broken as she was, covering it up by thick skin and physical release. What was best for both of them was a renewed spark to the extinguished wick.
Bulma stomped up the stairs. She combed the house for him but he had vanished. The anger built inside and she held onto it, using it as fuel. She went outside, slamming the back screen-door behind her. She found him near the garden, only dressed in a pair of their son's gray sweatpants. Sweat glistened down his back as he moved in slow motion, waving his hands around. The exercise reminded her of tai-chi. This was something new she'd never seen him do before. She watched for a few moments before he spoke.
"What do you want, woman?" he demanded. "I'm in the middle of something."
"This seems a bit too gentle for you, Vegeta, I'm surprised," Bulma said.
He lowered his arms and spun to face her. He frowned deeply. "It's called Ginkaibu, a form of concentrating the flow of ki. I learned it on the planet. . . It doesn't matter. Woman, state your business."
Bulma put her hands on her hips. "I came out here to inform you that I am not your slave, sexual or mechanical. You will have to earn my services. If you stay here, which you have complete freedom to leave, I have conditions." She lifted her chin proudly and met him in the eye.
Vegeta crossed his arms. "Conditions? And those would be what?"
Opening her mouth, she faltered. "I. . . don't know yet."
"Hn," he muttered, shaking his head.
"Well, first off I demand respect. I am not some cheap fuck you can use whenever you get the urge." She began to tick off her conditions on her fingers. Cussing felt weird because it'd been so long, but also good. She never used bad words in front of Trunks. "I'm not your maid. You'll have to pick up after yourself, take out the trash, etcetera. When your son gets back I want you to actually spend time with him. And . . . Well, I'll come up with more later. If you follow my conditions you'll get rewarded. I'll build your precious gravity chamber and maybe if you manage to treat me fairly I'll make love." He winced. "Excuse me, should I have used the phrase mate with you? That's the thing, Vegeta, I'm done with animal instinct. I-I'm better than that. I desire an actual relationship."
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. He was about to respond when the wind changed. The Saiyan positioned himself, ready for a fight or whatever was to come. Bulma's eyes widened, pretty sure what was happening.
"Oh," Bulma said.
The time machine popped out of nowhere, its image flickering in and out until it fully solidified. The vehicle was still shiny, only a hint of dust on the bottom of its four legs. Bulma squealed in excitement and lifted onto her tiptoes. The hatch popped and a familiar lavender-haired man peeked out. Trunks hopped out of the chair and climbed down. By the look in his eyes and the excited open-mouthed smile, she knew the trip succeeded. She let out a relieved breath and smiled back.
He came up and gracefully hugged her. "Mom."
"Oh, Trunks, I'm so glad you made it back okay," she said, squeezing him tight.
Trunks pulled back and glanced over towards Vegeta. He nodded at him and said, "Da-Father."
Vegeta grunted in response. Bulma's chest panged at his rock-hard stare and impassive mouth and jaw. He didn't seem to care one bit. His son, all grown up now, arrived from the past, unharmed, and the bastard didn't even bat an eye.
"I take it things went well," Bulma said.
The joy returned to Trunks' face. "Yes. We ran into some trouble with the androids, and then with a being called Cell, but it all worked out. I got to meet everyone in the past, and then we brought their counterparts back. Did they make it here okay?"
Bulma reached out and took his hand. She met his gaze. "Yes, everyone but Goku is alive and well, thanks to you. They said they would come back to visit soon."
He nodded. "I'm glad. I can't wait to see Gohan again."
She patted his hand before letting go.
Trunks stepped back over to the time machine and rummaged inside. He brought out a basket of blueberry muffins and handed them over to his mother. "Grandma sent muffins."
Stricken, Bulma held the basket to her chest. Her lip trembled a bit but then they lifted. "So like Mom."
He held up a remote. It had a dial and two buttons. "Mo- My young mother, gave me this. It is a device to stop the androids. It can deactivate them from a short distance away."
Bulma took the remote and examined it curiously. She hypothesized that it produced electromagnetic pulses. An electrostatic discharge of high voltage could case sparks and mess with nearby charged objects. It would definitely put a machine out of commission, given the right voltage. How cleaver, she thought, patting her past self on the back.
Gloomy and grumpy as ever, Vegeta said, "Taking the cowards way out."
She glared. "The most powerful warriors on Earth went against these androids and lost, you being one of them. This isn't cowardly, this is self-preservation," she spat.
"I understand that your solution to everything involves science and gadgets, but mine is my body, nothing more. Relying upon scrap metal and electricity is stating you are weak on your own. There is no honor in that."
"Let me remind you, buster, that scrap metal and electricity, AKA the time machine, is the only reason you stand here now. Plus, if accessories are so cowardly, what about the dragon balls? I remember you wanting them so bad to become immortal. A very cowardly act indeed," she said, waving the remote.
Vegeta scowled in what Bulma decided was a Saiyan pout. Ha, I win, she thought. She spotted Trunks watching them, but mostly her. He seemed surprised and inquisitive about her behavior. Her son wasn't used to her fighting attitude because there just wasn't anyone to worthily argue with. Get ready for a show, Bulma silently declared.
AN- Sorry this is so short. I figured it was time Bulma come out of her depression and take up arms. She's not going to let Vegeta walk all over her. Oh, and yes, Trunks will tell Bulma about the other Vegeta.