Sorry for a wee little serious chapter ~ I'll make it up to you with plentiful humor in the next one (maybe).

;)

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Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, or any of these characters :)

VII.

Palpable Pain

"Thanks again for baby-sitting, Gohan, you're a life saver!" Bulma exclaimed as she gently passed her son to the half-Saiyan teen before her. "I feel silly asking, but I have got to finish this project before my deadline tomorrow, and while my parents are still out of town, I'm left with only Mr.-Unhelpful-You-Know-Who, who apparently does not watch sons during training hours." The genius tossed her hair indignantly, glaring through the wall in the general direction of the gravity room.

Chuckling, Gohan smiled. "It's no big deal. Actually, it gives me an excuse to get out of the house for a while. Mom's been a little…uptight." Since Goku's decision to stay in Otherword, and Chi Chi's progressing pregnancy, the Son household had been stressful, to say the least. When Bulma called to offer Gohan a considerable chunk of cash in exchange for an afternoon of playing with baby Trunks at the Capsule Corp. compound, the half-Saiyan eagerly accepted; truthfully, he would have done it for free. "How is Vegeta, anyway? I can't believe he's really staying on Earth."

"Yeah, me neither. But, that's what he says." Bulma sighed and crossed her arms. "You must think I'm crazy," she mused. "I know he's…you know, him, but I can't help it. I've just got this huge soft spot for the guy."

Unsure of what to say, Gohan shrugged. "You know, he saved my life on Namek," he began after a moment, "when Frieza showed up before my Dad got there." Remembering the occasion still brought a chill to the young half-Saiyan, and truthfully, he made a conscious effort to think about it as little as possible. "Knowing him, he doesn't like to talk about it; saying he lost that fight would be a major understatement." He cringed. "But, even when it was obvious that he didn't stand a chance, he didn't give up. Frieza tortured him…it went on and on…" at this, Gohan paused, his jaw clenched. "All I could do was watch. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I don't think I could have if Piccolo wasn't there to hold me back. But Vegeta never begged, never stopped fighting, never quit. He took everything until his body was so broken he couldn't move. It was awful. When he finally knew he was a goner, he told my Dad about how Frieza had killed his father and enslaved him. Then he begged Dad to kill Frieza so he couldn't do it to anyone else."

Suddenly unsteady, Bulma felt her way into the nearest chair. "Kami…he's never said…I mean, I guess I knew Frieza killed the other Saiyans when he blew up the planet…but I never…" She felt the sting of tears and blinked them away.

The teen nodded solemnly. "He may not be my favorite person, but I respect him. Who knows what I'd be like if I were in his shoes," he said thoughtfully, face serious.

Compelling the images of a tortured Vegeta out of her mind, the scientist shook her head and forced a smile. "I'm sure you'd still be the great kid you are now!" she insisted, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. She was glad her son had Gohan as a role model—in all timelines. "Now, I'll be in my lab on the underground floor, and Vegeta will undoubtedly be in the gravity room for the day. The rest of the house is all yours! Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and just come and get me if Trunks gets too cranky."

"Ok, will do!" Gohan assured the heiress, making a concerted effort to change his tone and lift the heaviness from the room.

"Thanks, kiddo." With a final thumbs-up, Bulma stood and walked briskly to her lab. Once inside, she secured the door, then sank to the floor, her tears uncontrollable. She was not an idiot; she had witnessed the night terrors which plagued the Saiyan (on the rare occasions she saw him sleeping), assumed his past was not a favorable one, and knew his obnoxious attitude must have been rooted in something dark from this said past. But, the picture painted by Gohan was too real. It made her skin crawl and heart swell with palpable pain—pain, she knew, signaled something she feared.