Author's Notes: This chapter is switches back and forth between point of views (POV) in a way I have not done before. One POV is of Vegeta and Trunks, takes place after chapter 1, where Bulma has died, and is the most recent on the "timeline" in this story (so far). The other POV is of Bulma and Bra, which takes place before chapter one by a few years, but is after Bra has grown up to be a teen.
Beta read by "Vegeta'sNo.1" (thanks!)
Reference: Vegeta and Trunks' POV: takes place after chapter 1.
Vegeta: mid 60s
Bulma: Recently Deceased
Trunks: early 30s
Bra: early 20s
Bulma and Bra's POV: takes place before chapter 1, but after chapters 2 and 3.
Vegeta and Bulma: late 50s
Trunks: mid twenties
Bra: mid teens
HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER / FATHER
Vegeta walked the corridors of the castle, looking for his son. Rather soon he found his lavender haired offspring outside, sitting beneath a transplanted earthen tree, honing his Earthling sword.
The Saiyan King smirked and made his way outdoors. Every now and then, when Trunks was extraordinarily contemplative, he would sit beneath the so-called "oak" tree and tend to the weapon that had been presented to him as a gift. And since it was an object with Earthen roots, Trunks naturally sat near the only symbol of Earth the Saiyans appreciated within the gardens: The Mighty Oak.
Since Trunks rarely received sentimental gifts, it made sense for him to latch on to the first one he ever got. The sword had been a blessing in disguise during that difficult time in the prince's life. Looking back, Trunks now no doubt had realized that the loss of a dear person like General Nappa was not a reason for the world to meet it's doom. Trunks had thought that he might as well die just like him, that life would never be the same- even end after Nappa's death. At that time the hybrid had been unable to grasp this seemingly basic concept and possibility that every Saiyan warrior faced by fulfilling his or her duty.
The sword had made Trunks feel better at that time. It had also helped him to channel his anger, and became a way to deal with his feelings ever since, of which Vegeta was grateful for. Why cry to his father, when Trunks could cry to an inanimate object? It was convenient for both of them, Vegeta mused. He for one didn't wish to listen to the child's whining and senseless emotional blabbing. Of course he would never admit that he was just uncomfortable with such situations because his upbringing did not cultivate the compassion his mate had when it came to these kinds of things.
And considering that Trunks had just learned the truth of this maternal parentage, it was even more fitting that he would find solace underneath the leafy boughs of Earth, with the comforting weight of earthling steel, instead of in his fathers arms.
"Brat," The king spoke as he came nearer to his heir, crunching acorns beneath his boots in the process. "You will meet me tomorrow to discuss our trip to Earth." He handed Trunks a packet of papers. "You are better than the average Saiyan as far as foreign relations go, and you've already met humans, but here's a guide on what to do and especially what not to do while you stay on Earth."
"Do I really need this?" Trunks smirked up at his father. "I can only imagine who this really is for."
Vegeta chuckled as well. "Naturally, I would have to beat this into the brains of every other Saiyan going off world. Burn it into a crisp for all I care, just be sure to let Ambassador Chi Chi know I gave it to you, alright?"
"Yes, father."
The King was about to leave when his heir spoke up again. "Hey, father?" He paused as he gathered his courage. "Will you tell me more about my mother?"
Vegeta sighed and wondered how it was possible for Trunks to always know when he might be in a good enough mood to "share". After thirty years growing (surviving) in his father's care, besides being the son of so-called genius Bulma, Vegeta really shouldn't be surprised at Trunks' empathy. Leaning against the oak tree under which Trunks still sat, he replied, "What exactly do you wish to know, brat?"
Trunks looked down at his sword, dropped the pumice stone only to run an oil cloth along its already pristine edge. "I don't know... What was she like? What did she do? How long was she on Planet Vegeta?" He looked up to his father again. "How did you two meet and marry?"
"Hey, mom?"
"Hey, Bra?" Bulma mimicked, smirk forming on her lips as she finalized some reports on her laptop.
"Can you, ah... tell me about my dad?"
The clacking of the keyboard stopped and Bulma looked at her daughter instead of the computer screen. Bra looked mostly unconcerned, in the process of popping her bubble gum and texting on her cell phone, leaning casually against the counter in Capsule Corp's kitchen. Bulma would scold Bra for texting while "socializing", but that might have been a little hypocritical for the scientist who, at times, appeared to be glued at to her laptop.
The scientist rolled her eyes as she suddenly realized that this question was not meant as seriously as she thought it to be. Bra obviously was not aware of the implication that usually arose by asking such questions. Mother asks daughter, "What brought this up, Bra?"
POP! went the gum. "Oh, you know. Stuff." Receiving no reply, the teen looked up to see her mother looking at her with a raised eyebrow as well as a more than a little weird smile on her face. Bra sighed, sending the text she was working on, then looked back at her mother with some more seriousness in her face. Though not much more. "Like, you know how my school has these social dances that I go to almost every week?" Her mother nodded. "Well, this upcoming one is a 'father/daughter' one. I'm not too disappointed or anything, this'll be a good chance to hang out with Pan. You know she loathes going to these things, right? Like, last week she told me..."
"Stick to the subject, Bra." Interjected her mother with a bit of a chuckle.
"Right." Bra said as she moved a bit to sit across from her mother, "Well, anyway, all the girls were talking about their dads and how they were coordinating outfits. Like, Maron, totally got Mr. Krillin a black shirt and maroon tie to match..."
Bulma cleared her throat.
Bra giggled. "Sorry. But yeah, I had nothing to contribute to that conversation. And you know I love you mom and I never really needed a father figure; all my uncles are more than enough!"
Mother and daughter shared a laugh at the Z Warriors' expense, causing them all to sneeze as they went about their daily lives.
Vegeta stared at his son. To most, it would look like a glare and perhaps it was, but mostly he wondered how much he wanted divulge to his fanciful son, with delusions of "family".
His gaze softened though, as he recalled his woman and he glanced off to the distance, his eyes reflecting the red sands of the desert that flanked one side of the castle. "Your mother was a regular force of nature, Trunks. I never had any thought towards mating or procreating, but it seemed as if the universe literally threw us against each other and there was nothing to do but to accept it. Not that we did. No, I think we both fought not only each other, but denied the unstoppable strong force and emotions that bound us to each other. Even more so when we started ... bonding.
"Earth had only been part of the Planet Trade Organization for fifty years or so. They had sent ambassadors throughout the Alpha Quadrant, even to us. We hardly send any type of peaceful emissary anywhere, but we returned the favor this once, since we really liked human tech and food; that is why General Kakarot was on Earth for so long; his father, you remember retired General Bardock, was our first and only Ambassador to Earth. They even received human names from their hosts: 'Braddock' and 'Goku', you may have heard them being called like that once or twice?"
Prince Trunks nodded, knowing it was what Chi Chi preferred to call her husband and father-in-law the one or two times he'd met her. He remembered Ambassador Chichi and her short temper – especially when it came to her sometimes goofy and clumsy husband. She had never called him Kakkerot though the half-breed secretly suspected that she called him Goku because it was easier and faster to scream.
Vegeta nodded once again and continued. "I first left our planet when I was fifteen years old. I had learned all I needed of Saiyan heritage, honor and culture; it was time to embark on a journey to learn of other cultures or so your grandfather deemed necessary. Earth was first on my itinerary, mostly because Earth was our friendliest ally. Not our most advantageous ally, but most friendly."
Smiling at her mother Bra continued, "I was never sad because I didn't have my dad around. I'm not worried about it so much. In fact, I'm kinda weirded out about how I never really thought to ask, until just now..."
Bulma sighed at Bra with a small, understanding smile on her face. "You're like your father, in that regard. More than you know." The mother reached for her daughter's hand across the table, grasping it within her own. "You care, I know you do. But you have your priorities straightened out. I bet you never asked about a father because you have all that you need in the way of caring, supervisory, adults. It's a redundant waste to want more, right? That's how your father would feel, anyway. It was how he felt about his own parents.
"But." She continued, forestalling Bra's interruption. Her daughter's brow was furrowed, no doubt not liking the idea of being considered a "redundant waste" by her father, even if she didn't truly care whether he was around or not. "To answer your question: your father, Bra, is not of this planet..."
Bulma proceeded to regale to a wonder struck Bra the story of how a Saiyan prince befriended a human scientist, how they journeyed through space together, how the warrior was the adventure of a lifetime for the bookworm, and in turn how the scientist was the anchor for the raging beast.
Vegeta smirked, recalling the anger of his youth, his pride and callousness. "I was a stupid youth; unlike you Trunks, I did not grow up with aliens surrounding me, I only knew Saiyans and anything else was weak, stupid; simply unworthy of my attention. I kept my damaging pride even as I docked onto Earth. I treated the humans viciously, callously and by their standards, extremely rude." He spared a quick glace to an awed Trunks. "You never have known me as an asshole to visiting dignitaries, but there I was, this close to destroying another race." He looked off to the distance again, as if there, behind the corner a shadow from the past would leak, seeking out the memories buried deep within his hard heart to let him feel the joy and naivitê of his young years once more. "If it weren't for Ambassador Ox, and later his daughter, Chi Chi, coming here, I doubt relations would have progressed in a healthy manner after my visit.
"In any case, Bardock and Kakarott were, naturally,'' the King of Saiyans said in a rather sarcastic manner.'' In charge regarding my stay on Earth. They were the ones who beat sense into me: literally most of the time. My first few state events were, suffice to say, disasters." Vegeta chuckled. "Not that they got any better, just stocked with more food."
The King of Saiyans tilted his head in memory, shifting against the oak tree as he looked down at Trunks again. "There was, in fact only one frivolous dinner on Earth that didn't end in a physical brawl. That night I met a young, cocky and particularly loud-mouthed IT intern who spent the whole evening getting on my nerves and engaging in a verbal war against me.
"At some point, she made me so angry, I threw a peace of furniture right across the room.'' Vegeta almost laughed until he realized who he was telling this story. Clearing his throat, he went on.
''This immensely rude intern was your mother. I have to admit that at that time, my pride and wits had no chance against her stubborn nature. She was the first female who told me- right into my face nonetheless- that I, Prince of All Saiyans, was a jerk. Only Kakarot was able to save her life as I tried to kill her for her insolence. Needless to say, I did not see her again for the few months I stayed on Earth. But then, our two governments agreed to share some space itineraries for travelling students.''
"I was a tempestuous woman and that man was so hardheaded!" Bulma sighed. "And so prideful; I doubt he'd ever let me get close, had I not distracted him from his anger." She chuckled.
''One time, he was so close'' The scientist held her two fingers up and held them not even two centimeters away from each other to make her point clearer. ''to murdering one of your uncles. It was Yamcha, if you wish to know; he was a Star Fleet soldier stationed on the same ship but- as the genius I was- I interrupted Vegeta's tirade by asking him if he wanted sauce on his chicken!''
The blue haired mother of Bra started laughing hysterically at the seemingly hilarious memory, though Bra could not understand what had been so funny about it.
''Can you imagine? Saving the life of a man with the promise of good food! Hahahahaha...!''
Vegeta looked up to the night stars again, reminiscing. "The rest, it seems, like more of that funny force of nature stuff. I was traveling the stars to learn, to be a better man, a better ruler, and she traveled to learn all she could of science, of the universe." He sighed.
That sigh seemed to weigh so much, Trunks thought. It seemed like all the sorrow of the universe had been bound together in this small gesture.
"I cannot, for the life of me, ever recall being so carefree as I was back then. She was so easy to tease, mercilessly; to see her turn red in anger was a sight to behold. Only later would I recognize it as a desire. She had an effect on me as well: every time I started to blow a fuse, she would distract me with some inane question, or task. 'Do you want extra BBQ sauce on your dinner? You need a shower, buddy!' Heh... those questions, Trunks, those questions from an impertinent woman, and I obliged! Such an enigma... the universe is safe because of such inane chatter."
When Bulma calmed down again, she looked at Bra with a sheepish look, "But I couldn't distract his whole race. Traveling through space was the best time we had; ten glorious years before we tried to settle down. I tried to live on Vegeta for a year, but by that time, I was over the whole 'macho' act the Saiyans had. Don't get me wrong, it really is no act, but it's hard to get used to when it was not balanced with human mannerisms we've grown up with and are protected by. There's no way a whole human society would be so... aggressive. And the Saiyans are. But no matter how much honor they have, no matter how many guards your father gave me, I never truly felt safe there..."
"And so you left?"
"Yes." Bulma hung her head in shame. "It's my greatest regret Bra, that we couldn't make it work. I love the man, but I couldn't love his home."
Vegeta pushed himself off the oak tree, glaring at his son again. "And there you have it, boy, the universe is worse than Frieza," And he continued through Trunks' horrified expression "to have brought two such people together; one short lived emotional wreck and one long living, vicious monarch." He shook his head. "There was no chance."
And he walked away, without looking back. If he had, he would have seen the understanding expression on his son's face.
Bra thought about it for a few minutes. It was interesting to see her face so deep in concentration. Bulma would have smirked, if it wouldn't have been for the topic of their discussion. Bulma knew Bra was smart, her grades proved such, but rarely was it that her daughter was so serious about anything.
Finally, Bra voiced her conclusions. "And he stayed on Planet Vegeta because he was king and needed to rule over his people?" Bulma nodded. "That is sooo sad! Couldn't he have abdicated, or something? Did he not love you? Us?"
There was such a pleading look in her daughter's eyes, that Bulma was taken aback for a moment; who knew that Bra was such a romantic? She squeezed her daughter's hand, finding strength from the girl's strong and beautifully manicured hand. "There was a time, Bra, that abdicating was exactly what your father wanted to do. But when he thought of living here, on Earth, he would shudder in as much disgust as I had for his planet. No matter how much he tried to hide it, he was as averse to peace as I was to aggression. It's hard to explain, when you and I both know of warriors of Earth who love nothing better than to fight. But... Saiyan's take it to a whole different level...
"He lived here for a year or so, Bra. He did try, before we moved to his home. Never think your father didn't try... never think he did not love me, or you. It would take a torture session to get the man to admit it, but he had loved enough let go. Just think, if he hadn't loved me enough to let me live as I wished, we both would have been unhappy, or he would not have let me keep you..."
"Keep me? You mean..."
"Yes, he did want you. It was not for lack of caring that you grew up here on Earth. He loved you the moment he saw you, but he looked past his own needs, sparing me the pain of losing another child, knowing that your life would be better on Earth than on Planet Vegeta. Or so he thought. There are days when I wonder if it would have been better for you... but I am glad you are here, with me."
Bra, confused with her worth for the first time, withdrew her hand from her mother's, crossing her arms in an effort to protectively curl into herself. "There was another child?" At Bulma's widening eyes, not noting that she had let that secret slip, Bra had her confirmation. "And you lost it? Did it... die? Or did my fath... that prince... forced you to give up one and felt he had his heir, it wasn't worth keeping me?"
She would have said more, but by then Bulma had stood and wrapped Bra up in her arms. "Shh..." she comforted. "That came out wrong." She admitted. "Your father never forced my hand, on anything. Our first child, your brother by the way, was raised by Vegeta because I wanted Vegeta to raise our son. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever made, Bra, second only to the choice of leaving your father. And I was the one who decided I was going to raise you. If you blame anyone, Bra, you should blame me."
There was silence for a long moment, so much that it started to get uncomfortable for Bulma to continue holding Bra while leaning over said daughter's shoulders. She patted Bra's shoulders, standing and staring to mash up some semblance of a meal, when it was Bra's turn to hug Bulma from behind the shoulders.
"I never knew how strong you are." Was all Bra said.
"Wait, dad!" And Trunks's hand fell on Vegeta's shoulder, stopping him. Vegeta tensed, ready to punch the living lights out of Bulma's brat, but was waylaid by another question. "Wanna spar?"
Startled, Vegeta glanced at his son over his right shoulder, finding only a challenging smile on the boy's face, no fear or apprehension. Only later would Vegeta recall that that was the first time Trunks was able to derail his foul mood, instead of (inadvertently) causing it. It took thirty years, but Trunks was finally more than just an image of Bulma, but an enigma as well: to have not only known his mood, but how to change it.
"Sure, son."
