A/N - All things Dragonball related belong to Akira Toriyama! :D
Gilded light spilled over the bed in the Lookout guest room and Bulma's eyes fluttered open. Her body felt a bit stiff, but otherwise rested. Sitting up, she blinked and tried to remember how she had ended up here. Next to her, Trunks groaned and rolled over, pulling up a sheet to cover his eyes. Smiling softly, she put a hand to his head and ruffled his recently cut hair.
The scene felt so peaceful, yet something was missing. Where was Vegeta? His image flashed before her and then the memory of the previous night flooded her brain. She gasped. Poor Vegeta had had a horrible nightmare and one of his ki blasts had flung her into the wall. She remembered being injured, but everything else leading up to this moment was a blur.
Careful not to disturb Trunks, Bulma eased off the bed and stood up. The movement caused the baby to stir and the kicking sessions began. Bulma chuckled and walked over to the archway that led back to the main viewing platform of the Lookout.
It had been nearly two years since she'd been there. The familiar, clean scent of the place soothed her worry, but only fractionally. If she knew her husband, he was probably a thousand miles away beating himself to a pulp in his misplaced guilt. He couldn't help how strong he was and he certainly couldn't help that he had nightmares. Somehow she had gotten to Dende in time and everything had turned out alright. The heaviness of what had happened was not lost on her, but she knew for Vegeta's sake, she needed to be strong and brave. This incident would likely set them back a few years in terms of emotional walls in their relationship.
Stepping out onto the sunlit veranda, she saw a familiar face bobbing above a hedgerow of lovingly cultivated flowers and bushes.
"Mr. Popo!" she called, waving a hand.
The small man looked up and smiled. "Bulma. Good to see you awake and well."
"Thanks! I admit, though, I don't really remember how I ended up here last night," she said.
A sad expression clouded the dark face. "Vegeta brought you."
"Do you know where he is?" she asked.
Mr. Popo glanced off the horizon of the half-sphere and shook his head. "Dende may know. Vegeta's not here. He left several hours ago."
Bulma frowned, feeling an ache split open her heart. She knew he blamed himself. She couldn't pretend she wasn't upset about what had happened. Early in their relationship, Vegeta had knocked her from the bed twice before realizing he had a major nightmare problem. Ever since then, though, he'd taken great pains to meditate and clear his mind before bed to keep it from happening, as neither of them enjoyed sleeping alone. The strain of the impending baby must have brought the nightmares back. She knew she needed to figure out a solution to keep what had happened last night from happening again. Snapping her mind back to the present, she glanced back to Mr. Popo.
"Is Dende inside?" she asked.
The man shook his head. "He's by the edge over there."
She nodded. "Can you keep an eye on Trunks if he wakes up? I'd like to speak with Dende alone."
"I will, Bulma."
Laying a hand on Popo's shoulder, she patted it and headed over to speak with the young god of earth.
Dende stood at the rim of the Lookout's ledge, standing just as Kami had done for so very long. Bulma hadn't known the elder god that well, but a pang of nostalgia gripped her chest. She came up flush beside the Namekian and crossed her arms.
"Thank you for healing me last night," she said. "That's the only reason I can think of as to why I'm here today."
Dende smiled. "Your husband loves you very much. He was a wreck when he got here."
Tears pricked her eyes. "Do you know where he's gone?"
The god pointed to the south. "He's in the desert, alone. Thinking."
"Just thinking?" Bulma figured he'd have broken down his body into a puddle of bones and skin with intense training by now.
"He is very upset, Bulma. He almost killed you and the girl last night."
Bulma zeroed in on the word "girl". They were having a little girl? A thrill of excitement drowned out her worries for a moment and she clapped her hands together. "I knew it!" she exclaimed.
Dende glanced to her belly. "I was able to read Vegeta's thoughts and discern what happened. He had a nightmare that he had killed the two of you and his ki reacted, sending you through the wall and into a support beam. It snapped your spine and you were bleeding profusely from two severed arteries. He flew here from West City in under five minutes. If he'd been any later...we would have had to wish you and the baby back with the dragon balls."
Bulma sighed. Vegeta had probably never considered the fact that the dragon balls would have been able to bring her and their daughter back.
"I've never seen him so upset, Bulma," Dende said. "It was...hard to watch."
Her brows furrowed and she stared off into the direction the god had pointed. "What should I do, Dende?"
The green head shook side to side, sending antennae wobbling. "I think maybe it's best that you leave him alone for a little while. He'll come back to you. I can tell that much. He just needs some time to sort through his grief."
Bulma knew her husband well and could agree that Dende spoke the truth. It would be difficult to convince Vegeta that she didn't blame him for what had happened-that she still trusted him enough to sleep with him at night, but she felt sure Vegeta wouldn't sleep near her again for a little while. It made her lonely just thinking about it, even as it made her heart soar to know that he loved her and their new child that much.
"Thank you for letting us stay here last night," she said. "And thank you for keeping an eye on him."
Dende nodded and turned his eyes back to the south.
/\/\/
It had been three days since Bulma woke up at the Lookout and Vegeta had yet to come home. If she was honest with herself, she was growing alarmed about his absence. He hadn't just flown off like this in years. Dipping her hands into the warm soapy water in the sink, she exhaled and tried to focus on cleaning up the dishes from their dinner. Trunks stood silent next to her. Her twelve-year old had been unusually quite the last few days.
"He'll come back," she promised.
"I know," he said. "He already told me telepathically."
"He did?" Bulma was amazed at the gift the saiyans shared for communicating mind-to-mind and was a little jealous of it.
"He said he'd be back tonight. But that's all he said. He seems so sad, Mom," Trunks told her as he put a dry dish into the cupboard.
"Well, honey, it was a hard night for all of us," she said.
"You didn't see, Mom," Trunks said, staring straight ahead at the tile backsplash, his eyes seeing something else entirely.
"Well, I know he was upset, Trunks—"
"Mom, you were bleeding everywhere and I could see some of your bones through the wounds! It was awful!"
A dish broke and before she could blink, Bulma found herself enveloped by her son's arms, his wet face pressed into her chest. The soft sound of weeping met her ears and her gaze melted into love for her son. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed gently.
"I'm alright, Trunks. Everything is okay now," she whispered.
In her womb, Trunks' little sister kicked hard and he gasped, stepping away.
"See? She's trying to reassure you, too," Bulma said.
Trunks' eyes widened in surprise. "It's a little girl?"
Bulma nodded.
That knowledge settled in Trunks' mind and a grin lit his face. "I'm going to have a baby sister."
He wiped at the stray tears that were still falling from his blue eyes and turned back to the drying rack. "I'm glad it's a girl," he said. "Dad won't know what to do with himself."
Bulma laughed. "That's for sure!"
"What's for sure?"
Bulma and Trunks both spun around and stared at Vegeta. He looked like hell as he walked into the kitchen, his clothes hanging limp from his frame and purple pits blooming beneath his dark eyes. Bulma's heart fell into her stomach when she saw the gaunt, pale tinge on his skin. He had starved himself. Vegeta's muscle tone had diminished in just three days...the saiyan anatomy required obscene amounts of sustenance to maintain itself and he had punished himself not with training or with running away for good...he'd put himself through true physical and mental torture over what he'd done by starving.
Trunks reacted first and ran into his arms. Vegeta didn't bring them up to return the embrace, but he patted the kid's head awkwardly before pushing gently away.
Taking a towel, Bulma dried her hands and then pulled out a chair for her husband. "Sit down," she ordered. "I'll warm up something for you to eat."
He said nothing as he took the chair and fell into it. A haze etched over his features and his eyes appeared dead. Trunks sat next to his father and stared at him worriedly.
Bulma hastily warmed up a dish of their leftover stew and sat it before her husband with a spoon. He glanced at it and began to eat mechanically.
That eased her fear a little bit. At least he was eating now without her having to coax him into it. Perhaps they would be out of danger soon...She sat at the table with her family and gave Trunks reassuring looks as Vegeta finished his bowl. He didn't ask for seconds (or thirds or fourth, for that matter), which deflated her relief somewhat, but at least he'd gotten some food into his belly.
Vegeta stood up from the table and walked into the living room.
"Where are you going, Dad?" Trunks asked, a fearful note in his voice.
"To bed," Vegeta answered.
Bulma motioned for Trunks to stay and she followed her husband out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Her heart clenched when he walked past their bedroom door and continued down the corridor.
"Vegeta," she whispered.
He stopped for a second and turned his head back to glance at her. "I'll sleep alone until after the baby comes. I won't let something like that happen again."
She ran to him before he could enter the first guest room door. Her growing belly got in the way, but she pressed her body against his back and wrapped her arms around his chest.
"It wasn't your fault," she promised. "You don't have to sleep alone."
He stiffened and put his hand on the door handle.
"Bulma...I almost killed you and the child. How can you be so nonchalant about this?"
"Because I know you didn't do it on purpose and it all worked out." Even as she said it, she knew her motherly protectiveness was somewhat relieved that her body would be safe from his nightmares if they slept alone.
Shrugging her off, Vegeta opened the guest room door. Before he shut it to enclose himself, he looked at her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, Bulma."
It was the first time she'd ever heard him apologize directly. Her body stilled and gooseflesh broke out on her arms.
He shut the door, leaving her all alone in the dark hallway.
A/N - Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others and sorry I couldn't update yesterday. Real life got in the way. However, I have plans to update again tomorrow. As well, if you've been following my Tumblr (sammybunn711), you've been able to see some of the fanart I've been doing (not related to this fic, but still DBZ headcanon), so I've been putting out other creative content, lol.
Thank you SO much to EVERYONE who has reviewed, commented, liked, followed, etc. It means the WORLD. I can't believe the overwhelmingly positive feedback this little fic has gotten. It is very humbling.
Remember, reviews ensure that the sun rises every day. Happy Saturday! :D
