A/N: I don't own DBZ or the characters, that honour belongs to Akira Toriyama. I use British English spelling.
Vegeta and his eight year old son Trunks go back in time to warn the past of the Androids' arrival. When the machine needs repairing the two of them are stuck. At least the past has good food! There's just one problem... Bulma begins to fall in love with Future Vegeta, instead of his younger self. Can Vegeta ensure his son's birth, defeat the Androids, and save the world?
Vegeta shut the door to the kitchen behind him and stopped in the dark hallway to take a deep breath that he then exhaled loudly, the air coming out pathetically shaky. Having her next to him, close enough for him to smell her shampoo, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her, close enough to lean forward just a little more and capture her mouth with his… it would have driven him to madness, or at least driven him to do something he would regret if he'd stayed any longer. He'd missed the woman more than he'd been willing to admit to himself, and seeing her, so young and without the lines of worry that had been drawn onto her face, deeper with every encounter with the androids, made the hole that had been ripped through his heart when she died worse not better.
She's not my Bulma, he reminded himself as he forced his feet to start walking down the hall. As much as he wanted her to be, she wasn't the woman he'd grown close to out of loneliness. She wasn't the woman who cried over his injured body each time he dragged himself home after fighting the androids. She wasn't the mother of his son, the woman who read Trunks bedtime stories, baked atrocious chocolate cakes that tasted more like charcoal than cocoa, and never once insisted that Vegeta act more 'human'. No, she was not his Bulma.
Vegeta continued down the hall and into the wing that contained the guest room where his son slept, relief flooding through him at the realisation that he'd left the kitchen in time. He hadn't kissed this Bulma, as much as his body screamed out in the need to feel his woman again, for if he had, it would have only been a momentary sense of peace before the guilt set in. Doing anything with this Bulma would be an affront to the relationship he'd had with his Bulma, and he couldn't let his weakness for those blue eyes, and those silken tresses and that delightfully sharp tongue of hers make him forget that.
He turned the handle and opened the door to his son's room, pausing in the doorway to watch the boy. Trunks lay curled in the foetal position on the bed closest to the window, cocooned in a thick blanket with only his head poking out. He didn't move in his sleep, but Vegeta could sense the fluctuations in his ki and knew his slumber was a troubled one. That wasn't unusual by any means - they both had their share of nightmares and had formed an unspoken agreement over the last couple of years to wake each other from them if they got bad, but to never, under any circumstances, talk about them in the morning.
The two of them had slept in the same room since Bulma had died. Mostly because the places Vegeta found for them to hide were too small to allow them the luxury of separate bedrooms, especially once the parts for the time machine started spreading out over their hideout, but also because Vegeta knew Trunks had vivid nightmares of the androids coming into his bedroom - just like they had that day. Not only were loud nightmares a sure giveaway of their location, but Trunks slept better when he was nearby, and the boy needed all the sleep he could get.
Vegeta had used the same excuse when he picked a guest room with two beds, but as he entered the room, and crawled into bed without removing anything but his shoes, suddenly bone tired despite the half cup of coffee he'd downed, he knew that he felt safer sleeping in the same room as his son as well.
"I've done what you asked," he mumbled into the night as he closed his eyes and felt the heaviness of slumber pull at him. He'd been many things in his life time, including an oath breaker when it was a choice between his life and someone else's, but there were some promises he couldn't break. There were some promises he would travel across time to keep.
He stared at the black liquid in front of him, watching the steam dance its way out of the mug and into the air. It smelt a little smoky, or maybe earthy - he couldn't quite define it. He picked up the mug with both hands like he'd seen the woman do, and enjoyed the warmth radiating onto his skin through the ceramic.
From the other side of the breakfast bar, Bulma grinned at him and took a sip from her own mug. She'd made her drink differently, adding in sugar and a spoonful of something thick and white before stirring it in.
Vegeta breathed in the scent of the beverage. There was something appealing about it, although he couldn't help suspect that it would taste like dirt on his tongue. At Bulma's daring raise of her eyebrows, he cautiously rose the mug to his lips and took a sip. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at first - it did taste like dirt and it burnt the inside of his mouth - but then a pleasant after taste filled his mouth. With a frown, he took another sip, blowing on it first this time. He couldn't help grimace again as the hot liquid splashed across his tongue and down his throat, and Bulma let out a giggle.
"Here." She pushed her mug towards him. "Try mine."
He threw her an apprehensive glare before accepting her mug. The liquid's colouring was lighter, more of a golden brown, and the smell of it was sweeter. When he took a sip, the sugary taste filled his mouth, making him gag. He shoved her mug back towards her, sloshing the brown liquid over the side.
"Don't like it?" Bulma laughed and grabbed a cloth to wipe up the spilt drink. "Coffee isn't for everyone."
Vegeta looked at his own mug, and took another sip. "This one is… acceptable," he admitted.
Bulma's eyes lit up like he'd said it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. "Hopefully it doesn't prevent you from sleeping tonight," she said. "I drink so much of it the caffeine doesn't keep me awake, but it does for a lot of people."
Vegeta shrugged and took another sip. He didn't care much for sleeping anyway. The monsters of his past lurked there, and enjoyed tormenting him. He didn't particularly care for company either, and usually enjoyed the isolation he got at this time of night, but her presence was less of an annoyance than he'd expected. During the day, they bickered every time they talked, but here, in the dimly lit kitchen, the woman seemed relaxed, and for once Vegeta wasn't interested in entering into a battle of words with her.
"Strawberries, chocolate, and coffee," Bulma said as she came around to his side of the bar and sat next to him. "They are the foods I couldn't live without. You know, I wanted to wish for a life time supply of strawberries on the dragon balls."
She started talking, babbling on and on about her childhood adventures. Vegeta didn't really listen to her words, but he found her voice oddly soothing. So he stayed. He drank this peculiar beverage that tasted like dirt, and stayed.
Bulma placed her hands on her hips and gazed at the egg-shaped machine taking up the middle of her lab. It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing design with its metal panels curved roughly, as if someone had beaten them into shape with their bare hands. It was more than twice as tall as her, nearly touching the roof, and had a hatch at the top to enter and exit which didn't seem to be particularly user friendly.
She walked up to the machine and placed her hand on the cool metal, over the painted stick figure picture of two adults and a child. The word 'hope' had been scrawled next to it, and she slid her hand over it to touch the painted letters. I gave you purpose and you gave me hope, he'd said with such passion that in the middle of the night the prospect of falling for him wasn't so improbable. Here during the day, with the fluorescent lights of her lab glaring down at her, reality set it. What had he meant by hope? Did he mean the emotional feeling of hope, or had he been more literal, meaning this machine in front of her?
Deciding that turning Vegeta's words over and over in her head wouldn't help, she went back to assessing the time machine. It had been cobbled together for a specific purpose, not for anything marketable, but Bulma marvelled at the care that had gone into each of the joins of the metal, and the reinforcement of panels clearly done to make the machine as safe as possible.
There was a panel on the side held on by screws, so she grabbed her screwdriver and opened it up, keen to see what the insides of the machine looked like. The mass of wires and the cluttered circuit board didn't obey that colour standards she would have used to allow her to pull it apart and put it back together easily, but there did seem to be some kind of logic in the way everything spiralled around each other.
"It's out of fuel," a young voice said, making her jump.
Bulma turned around and saw Trunks standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"We only had enough for the trip here." The boy gave her a small smile, his eyes wide and earnest in an expression that was so odd to see on someone with Vegeta's features. "It might have been damaged in the jump, and one of the androids fired at us before we left, so it will need to be checked over before we can use it again safely."
"I can do that for you," Bulma said.
Trunks nodded and started walking around the machine, pointing out the different parts. "Here's where the fuel injectors are located. And here, this is the navigation system." He kept talking and Bulma listened in fascination at the words coming out of this eight year old's mouth. Clearly, he was intelligent, although she supposed with his genes it was a given. But his understanding of the machine went far beyond someone who had merely watched their father build it.
"You helped," she said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You helped Vegeta build this, and I don't mean just handing him tools."
"I did a lot of tool handing," Trunks said with a grin. "But yes, I mainly worked on the circuit boards, and electrics. Papa did all the main structure and built the engine." He glanced down at his shoes and scuffed the floor before looking back up at her. "We made a good team."
"I can tell," Bulma said softly. "This is impressive work."
The boy's cheeks flushed and his embarrassed expression looked so much like the one Vegeta made whenever Bulma said something that he considered 'vulgar', that she had to smother her smile. Krillen had been right - he was like a mini Vegeta in so many ways. Was that because she had died in his time? The smile threatening to burst into the corners of her mouth faded away at the thought. If she had lived in the future, would this little boy be any different?
Trunks fished into his pocket and pulled out the phone he'd shown her yesterday. "Papa said to give you this." He handed it over to her. "It's about to run out of battery but he said you'd be able to figure it out. It contains schematics of the time machine and has all the research you did on Kakarot's heart virus. He said there should be enough to make a cure."
Bulma turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the charging port. "I thought Goku died quickly," she said. "Why did future me bother trying to make a cure?"
Trunks gave a shrug. "I don't know. I wasn't even born then. Maybe you were worried Papa would get the virus too?"
"Is Vegeta okay with me searching through this?" Bulma asked, waving the phone in her hand. "From the photos you showed me I'm guessing there is a lot of personal stuff on here."
Trunks tilted his head, looking at her with a critical gaze. "It was your phone," he said. "Everything on it is what you put there." Then he turned around and left, almost as abruptly as Vegeta had left last night, closing the door behind him.
Vegeta leaned against a tree and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched his older self and the boy move in co-ordinated circles around the back lawn of Capsule Corp, passing two ki balls back and forth with one another in an elegant dance. Future Vegeta had barged into his room before breakfast, demanding to borrow one of his training suits, then told him he'd reveal what he knew about becoming a Super Saiyan today. So far, Vegeta had learnt nothing, because the man had insisted on having breakfast, then doing katas with the brat before anything else.
Their katas looked effortless, as if they'd done them a thousand times. Vegeta never trained with anyone, other than the occasional spar with Nappa and Raditz. No one else could keep up with his fierce dedication and brutal training regime, and even if they could, he still would have trained alone.
Yet this older him and the boy had clearly been training together for a long time. Their movements were synchronised, yet Vegeta could tell that his future self was leading by an indiscernible amount of time, but the boy so in tune with his father's kata that he kept up without breaking step once. Seeing the two of them side by side, Vegeta was struck by how much the boy was like his future self - and him he supposed - despite the purple hair and blue eyes. The features were all him, and even the boy's ki seemed to vibrate on the same frequency.
Vegeta had never wanted children, and half breeds were an abomination on Planet Vegeta, but he supposed that if he had to have a child, the boy wasn't a complete disappointment.
His future self however…
Future Vegeta had run away to the past, and then had the nerve to demand they use the dragon balls to prevent the apocalyptic future. What a joke. How could his future self think he would want to miss out on the chance to fight an opponent, even if they were ten times stronger than a Super Saiyan? Even Kakarot, who Vegeta loathed to admit he agreed with, didn't want to use the dragon balls. Vegeta knew the benefits of retreating, but that was not the same as running away, and as far as he was concerned, that was exactly what his future self had done.
He scowled at his future self, and the man must have sensed it because he glanced up from his kata and mirrored Vegeta's expression.
"You said you'd tell me how to become Super Saiyan," he snapped at his older self. "Not dance around the lawn all day."
"We are waiting for Kakarot," future Vegeta replied, looking down his nose in disdain.
"What do we need to wait for that third-class clown for?"
"Hi Vegeta!" Kakarot appeared on the lawn in front of him with a vague popping sound. He turned around to future Vegeta who continued his kata smoothly. "Hi other Vegeta."
Both Vegeta's grunted in response and Kakarot let out a laugh. "I can't tell who's who! You're even wearing the same clothes."
Vegeta rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in disgust. First, he gets shown up by himself, and a half breed brat, and now he was forced to be in the presence of Kakarot. He could feel any hope he'd had for the day slipping through his fingers.
"Tell my younger self what triggered you to become Super Saiyan," future Vegeta instructed, halting his kata then sitting cross-legged on the grass, his back straight and arms on his knees as if he was about to start meditating.
Trunks stopped his kata movements as well, and glanced at his father before flopping down on the ground and pulling his limbs into the same position as his father, mimicking him down to the serious facial expression.
"Well…" Kakarot scratched the back of his head then glanced from the older Vegeta to the younger one. "Krillen died and I felt… angry I guess. Angrier than I'd ever been. It felt like my skin was on fire, and the next thing I knew… that rage exploded and I'd transformed."
Vegeta frowned at that. He'd been angry plenty of times in his life. He was the epitome of angry - he could argue that it was his resting emotion most of the time.
Future Vegeta looked to his son. "Was your experience similar?"
Trunks' eyes widened and he bit down on his lip. "I guess."
"Explain," his father instructed.
Trunks' shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground. "I don't… I don't really remember."
"Nonsense," future Vegeta growled. "Tell young me how you became Super Saiyan."
Trunks pressed his lips together and reached down to pluck out a long strand of grass, then began to rip it into small pieces.
Kakarot cleared his throat awkwardly. "If he doesn't want to talk about it you shouldn't…"
Future Vegeta threw Kakarot a ferocious glare. "Do not presume to tell me what I should or should not ask of my son. If I think he can handle it, then he can." He turned back to his son and raised his eyebrows.
Trunks looked up at him, and Vegeta saw something pass between the two in the small nod that the boy gave his father. When Trunks looked back at Vegeta, his hardened expression was back, smoothing his features like stone. He dropped the torn grass and brushed his hands off before starting. "They found our home. I was playing in my room, and I didn't know anything was wrong until I felt Gohan's ki." He paused and took in a deep breath, before continuing, his words tumbling out. "It wasn't like the other times, when he and Papa would go out and fight them. Those times their ki would drop slowly. This was different. One moment he was in the hall, calling my Mama's name, the next… nothing. His ki vanished too fast for him to have just been suppressing it."
Vegeta dug his nails into his palms, at the boy's quivering voice. He had been five when his father died. How old was this kid when he felt the first person he cared about perish? This was exactly why he didn't want children. Who would want to purposely bring life into this twisted universe where death and misery were the only certainties?
Kakarot's fists clenched and the usually cheery expression had vanished, replaced with… anguish, maybe? Kakarot's facial movements were all human, and Vegeta hadn't quite learnt how to interpret the nuances, but given that they boy was describing the death of Kakarot's son to him, it seemed like the most likely.
"Did you know Gohan well?" Kakarot asked, his voice coming out strained.
Trunks gave a small shrug, but it was future Vegeta who replied. "He trained with me the moment we realised the androids were not going to be defeated easily. He then came to live with us after his mother died."
"You took him in?" Kakarot asked, and Vegeta could tell that he'd forced himself not to emphasise the you.
Something flickered across future Vegeta's face, and again Vegeta found himself unable to recognise it, much to his frustration. "He made a good babysitter," the older Vegeta replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Did his future self actually… care about Kakarot's brat? Just how different was this older version of himself?
"I don't remember much from before, but I remember that Gohan was my friend." Trunks blinked quickly then cleared his throat before continuing. "After that, Mama ran into my room. The androids followed her. I tried to stop them. I tried to protect her. I used everything I'd learnt from my training but I still wasn't strong enough." His eyes watered over, but he grit his teeth and no tears fell. "17 killed Mama. Her ki faded slower than Gohan's, but I knew it was too late. And then I felt… hot. My ki went crazy and it burned my skin. It hurt, but I couldn't stop it. Then I realised I'd done it. I'd become a Super Saiyan. But it was still too late, and I still wasn't strong enough. 18 threw me out the window and we fought outside, but I… I thought I was going to die."
"But you didn't," Vegeta found himself replying, unable to tear his gaze away from the small boy in front of him who had attained at such a young age what he'd been trying to do his whole life.
Trunks glanced at his father. "No. I didn't."
"Gohan became Super Saiyan when Piccolo died," Future Vegeta said. "He described the experience in a similar way. A feeling of pure rage, fuelled by grief that felt like it was burning."
"And what about you?" Vegeta demanded of his older counterpart. "How did you become a Super Saiyan?"
Future Vegeta's lips drew a white line across his face and he appeared to hesitate before replying. "They attacked Capsule Corp," he said finally. "They blew the whole building up. I thought I was the only survivor. No one human should have been able to survive that and Trunks was just a baby. My ability to sense ki was still patchy, but I felt everyone's ki around me drop. I've been angry a lot of times in my life, as you are aware. But this was… different. Even when furious I have some level of control. I take my anger and channel it in a fight. But this couldn't be controlled. I let everything go and the transformation just… happened."
"You make it sound easy," Vegeta said.
"It wasn't." Future Vegeta's dark eyes bore through him. "Letting go - allowing all of my control to disappear is the hardest thing I can do. But I have a theory."
Vegeta raised his eyebrows at that. "Should I take notes?" he asked with a smirk.
Future Vegeta scowled at him. "Do you want to hear this or not?"
Vegeta sighed and waved his hand for his future self to continue.
"Training endlessly doesn't seem to force the transformation, although there does seem to be a correlation between strength in your base form and in the transformation." Future Vegeta explained. "I think there is a reason the transformation in myth was said to be only for the pure of heart. The trigger is an emotional one - it is a response that isn't diluted by any other thoughts, and any of your preconceptions. I assume the trigger does not need to be grief, but in the limited examples I have seen, that has always been the trigger."
"So you are saying that Vegeta - uh, the one from my time - needs to care about someone else, then have them die?" Kakarot asked. "That doesn't seem like a great option."
Vegeta frowned as he found himself agreeing with Kakarot, although he suspected that he was talking about the having the person Vegeta cared about die, while Vegeta couldn't imagine caring about anyone else in the first place.
"I'm sure it seems impossible," Future Vegeta said, ignoring Kakarot and looking at Vegeta. "I… we've been programmed our entire lives to believe that caring about someone else is a weakness."
"It only gives the enemy something to use against you." Vegeta pushed himself off the tree and took a step forward. "Look at father. He let our entire world be destroyed because he wanted to save me."
"I know," Future Vegeta said. "I'm not disagreeing with that reasoning. But-"
"-Of course there is a but," Vegeta growled, rolling his eyes.
"But caring for someone else gives you strength in battle. When you don't care if you live or die, it is easy to give up. But when you care if someone else dies… giving up isn't an option."
"I would never give up, no matter what!" Vegeta said.
"That's not true, and you know it," his older self said.
Vegeta flushed, remembering Namek, much to his shame. He had given up when Frieza blasted a hole through his chest. He'd given up and begged Kakarot to kill Frieza instead of dragging himself up and trying again. Not that he would have done any good, even if he had been able to move his legs, but he regretted not going out fighting right to the end.
"I don't think anyone needs to die," Future Vegeta said, giving Kakarot a brief frown. "I'm sure there is another way."
"Oh good, you're here Goku." Bulma's cheery voice rang out across the yard and she practically skipped over, giving Vegeta a flash of annoyance. What the hell did she have to be so damn happy about all the time? It was more irritating than her screeching when she was annoyed at him.
"Hey Bulma," Kakarot replied with a wide grin that made Vegeta want to punch his face in. "Did you need something?"
"Yes…" Bulma said slowly, glancing between the two Vegeta's with a frown. "But I need to talk to Vegeta first."
"What do you want, woman." Vegeta sneered at her.
Bulma flashed a smile at him. "Well that was easier than I thought to figure out who's who. I'm not interested in speaking with you, Vegeta. I want to ask your future self something." She chewed her lip and looked at Future Vegeta, who still sat cross-legged on the grass. "Privately?"
Future Vegeta frowned, but rose to his feet. Bulma took his hand and dragged him to the other side of the yard. She seemed to whisper into his ear, and his brow furrowed before a sly smile spread across his face and he nodded.
Vegeta felt a pang in his stomach as he watched them. He'd sensed their ki in the kitchen together last night. Had something happened between them? Bulma was still holding his future self's hand lightly. Vegeta shook his head and looked away. It didn't matter. He did not care about that woman, or whomever she was having relations with. Even if it was his future self. He did not care.
Their hands fell apart and future Vegeta strolled over, focused on Kakarot.
"We need to spar," he said. "No Super Saiyan - we are too close to the house."
"Sure!" Kakarot bounced on his feet. "I can't wait to see how strong you are. Krillen told me you cut down Frieza like he was-"
Future Vegeta's fist cut Kakarot off as it collided with his jaw, sending the third class Saiyan stumbling backward. Kakarot steadied himself, but future Vegeta attacked with a swift uppercut that sent Kakarot flying before phasing behind Kakarot and slamming his fist into the back of the clown's head.
Kakarot dropped like a stone.
Both Vegetas laughed, and even Trunks let out a giggle.
"Three hits, and he's out," future Vegeta crowed. "I've waited years to be able to do that." At Bulma's horrified look his face fell. "What?"
Bulma rolled her eyes and pulled out a syringe with a large needle attached. "You could have just held him down," she muttered.
"You think he'd want to be awake for the amount of blood you need to take?" Future Vegeta asked, laughter lacing his tone. "Really, I was doing him a favour."
Vegeta chuckled at that. Maybe his future self wasn't as much of a disappointment as he'd thought.
Bulma grumbled under her breath, but got to work, taking five tubes of Kakarot's blood.
"What's it for?" Trunks asked, watching the procedure with intrigue on his face.
"It's to create the cure for Goku's heart virus," Bulma replied. She looked at each of the Vegetas, an evil grin on her face. "I need your blood too. Which one of you is brave enough to volunteer?"
Future Vegeta glanced at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Look at that, it's time to eat. Come on Trunks, let's see what your grandmother has prepared." He and Trunks rushed inside, leaving Vegeta on the lawn with Bulma and an unconscious Kakarot.
Bulma brandished a large needle, her eyes sparkling as she threw him a winning smile that made him shrink back towards the tree behind him. "I guess you just volunteered yourself."
A/N: Sorry Goku! It looks like all of future Vegeta's dreams are coming true in this timeline.
For anyone waiting for updates, if you go to my profile page I have added a 'current status' section so you can see if I'm writing or editing, and what the wordcount I'm at. Most of my chapters sit at around 2000-3000 words, but this one is particularly long.
Here are some answers to review questions:
Are we going to see what happened on that day? And how Trunks and Vegeta went Saiyan?
The chapter above has explained it a little, but there will be flashbacks from the beginning of V/B's relationship to the day she died, so there's a good chance those events will all be covered.
For Vegeta to suggest using the dragon balls to defeat the androids seems a little out of character.
Yes, it is out of character - and young Vegeta certainly agrees with you! You'll probably find out why he suggested the dragon balls at some point, most likely through a flashback.
Will Vegeta still try to get young Vegeta and Bulma together?
At this point, that is still future Vegeta's plan. Who knows though! Not me. I'm more of a panster than a plotter so I genuinely have no idea what these characters will do beyond basic plot points. That's what makes writing it so much fun!
