Last time:

"I know…But it's all we can do."

The group walked to down the hall, splitting off at their respective classes, completely at a loss for what to do.


Chapter 12: New Vows

Vegeta was only vaguely aware that he was moving, that someone was pushing him down a bright hall, and that he was lying down. There were voices, muted and angry, shouting commands at one another. And then he heard a voice he never expected; Goku's.

Suddenly everything grew brighter. And then, slowly, everything went black.


It must have been late night, or early morning, when Vegeta woke up. His throat burned, as though he'd swallowed scalding coffee; his head felt like a giant bruised fruit. But that wasn't what startled him. By the window, next to his bed, Goku sat, his head slumped over in sleep. Of course he wasn't in his apartment, but a phenomenally cleaner hospital room.

He lifted his arm, only to find another pain. His ribs seemed to crack and whine as he tried to check the watch on his wrist that was no longer there. And why would it be? The last thing he remembered was working out in the gym at SCC, so naturally he took it off to store in his locker.

"Kakarot," he said, his voice normal, if not a bit scratchy, before he knew better.

Goku started and looked up, something between a smile and a frown on his face. For a moment he said nothing, only stared at his ex-friend, eyes hiding none of the anger they had the last time they'd spoken.

"When did you wake up?" was all he said, after such an intense stare-down.

Vegeta had expected more.

"Now." He shrugged, wincing slightly at the pain he'd nearly forgotten about. "What the hell happened? I feel like shit."

"You passed out in the gym," Goku informed him, his voice as devoid of emotion as Vegeta's always was. If anything, it was flatter, though bubbled every once and a while with anger.

"I figured as much, Kakarot. Why do my ribs hurt? What's wrong with my throat?"

"The doctor said you over-exerted yourself. You pushed yourself too far. By the time you blacked out, they imagine you'd been there more than six hours."

"Sounds about right."

"You're an idiot."

Vegeta said nothing.

"You started puking up blood before you passed out."

"Hence the throat and rib pain," he said matter-of-factly.

"That," Goku sneered, "and you fell into a rack of weights. You landed on your gut."

"When are they letting me out of here?" He wanted to get as far from Goku as possible. It was the strangest feeling, because he wanted to still be his friend, but the raging vibe he was giving him off told him to flee. This was not the Goku he'd known since childhood. And it was his fault he was this way.

"After you talk to a shrink." There was no nice way to say it, though Goku didn't even try.

"A shrink!" He was visibly horrified. "What the fuck for? I passed out. I didn't throw myself at the damn weights. I didn't force myself to puke!"

"Obviously there's something mentally wrong with you," he shot back, his eyebrows twitching in irritation. "But they're mainly interested in why you worked yourself to the point you did."

"It was an acci—"

"Don't bullshit me, Vegeta. I know you better than anyone. You don't have time to be in the gym for six hours! You skipped work to be there, to do that. You were trying to hurt yourself." He made a scoffing sound and crossed his arms. "How pathetic can you be? You brought this on yourself and now you're taking the coward's way out?"

Vegeta had nothing to say. Though he despised admitting it, Goku was right. But what bothered him the most was how completely transparent he was to is old friend. What had he done? Goku was a great friend and he'd thrown that away for money? Why it had been so important before he can't remember.

"I would think you," Vegeta finally said venomously, "most of all, would be happy."

"Happy! Why the hell—"

"Because, you moron! I'm getting what I deserve!"

"No, you're punishing yourself. True," and he actually sniggered, "you deserve it, but not like this. Not when you're the one doing it. Bulma, and Bulma alone, has that right. And you know what she's doing?" He paused, sighed, leaned back. "Nothing. She's doing nothing. You're getting off without a scratch on this one. I hope you're proud."

"Fuck you, Kakarot. Don't pretend to know what it's like to be me. You can't imagine how it feels to have no parents, to live in a shithole that you can barely pay for, to have to work your ass off for nothing."

"Money isn't everything, you know," Goku sighed, exhausted. "Or haven't you noticed?"

"Well I learned that the hard way, didn't I?"

"Aren't you even going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"Why I'm here."

Vegeta shrugged, again forgetting about his ribs. Why were they playing games with each other? So much had been lost already, and here they were making it harder, pouring salt in the wound while at the same time gouging it deeper. It was cruel, to both of them. And yet they did it. They did it because of how much they both love Bulma.

"Why are you here?"

"Bulma asked me to come," he answered immediately.

He was too weak, too injured, to stop his jaw from dropping open. Why had she asked someone to visit him? He thought far too highly of her to think she'd sent Goku to berate him the way he was.

"She was concerned about your well-being."

"How did she know I was here?"

"Records have her down as your contact, because you're still married."

"Still…"

"She's divorcing you, you know."

"Are you enjoying this?"

Goku smirked. Vegeta could have flat lined had his condition dealt with his heart.

"You don't get it, do you? I'm not like you, Vegeta. I don't care about revenge or being the best or having it all. I care about Chi-Chi and Bulma, Krillin and the twins, my grandpa, and as much as I hate you, I still care about you too. It's the same with Bulma, the same with everyone. Except you."

"I—"

"Maybe you've changed in loving Bulma. But it's too late."

"Kakarot!" he snapped when Goku stood to leave. "This can't be over! It can't end like this!" And he meant both their friendship and his marriage.

"You ended everything the second you took that rat's money, Vegeta. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with my fiancée."

The door would have slammed if hospital doors could slam.

A moment later a doctor came in and checked Vegeta over, saying little. He was informed that his shrink would be in the next morning, and then he could leave.

Vegeta was absolutely floored. If, that is, he had been told he was about to die. But he had no such luck.


"Listen, because I'm only saying this once," Vegeta sneered, his back now sore as well due to having to spend so much time in bed. "I am not crazy, not the way you think I am. You want me to say I tried to kill myself, but you have no idea what the hell is wrong with me. This is just a job for you; you get paid because I talk to you. The thing is, you're looking for some profound answer, something to explain my behavior, and I have none to give you." He paused, but only to catch his breath. "Yes, my parents died when I was young. Yes, my father died leaving me poor and alone. Yes, I had no other family members to care for me, so I raised myself. And yes, I have been working two jobs and going to two different schools for the past four years. But none of that has anything to do with what happened to me."

The simple-looking woman with red hair and a white doctor's coat said nothing. What was there so say? He was telling her everything and she hadn't so much as said hello.

"Pathetically enough, it has to do with money and…a girl."

This sparked the shrink's interest, and she poised her pen.

"Her name doesn't matter," he said crossly, "but you'd change it in your book anyway, right? She didn't want a boyfriend, and she left her ex of four years. He waited revenge, and that's where I came in. He offered to pay me to date her, until she liked me enough, and then dump her, humiliate her." Vegeta's voice was so calm and collected, the doctor had a hard time believing his story. "She was my…mybestfriend's friend."

"Your what?"

"My. Best. Friend's. Friend," he hissed, annoyed at having to repeat himself. "When things got out of hand, I tried to tell him, I tried to call it off. Now it's just me again."

"You tried to hurt yourself because you love her?"

Vegeta laughed so hard and so loud, the doctor actually jumped. It was the first real emotion he'd shown, other than anger, of course.

"Of course not," he lied, and so well. She believed him. "I wasn't trying to hurt myself." Another lie, though he didn't know it. He hadn't been conscience of trying anything other than to eliminate his emotional pain with physical exertion. "I was bulking up to kick her ex boyfriend's ass. He didn't pay out as much as he promised. I got screwed over."

"You're telling me that you broke your girlfriend's heart and lost your only friend—" Because she'd figured as much. "—and you don't even care?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he informed her. "She's my wife."


By three in the afternoon, Vegeta was out. The shrink had bought his story, urging him to seek help for his anger and indifference to others. He flipped her off and tore up his bill, or his copy anyway. Not because he wasn't going to pay it, but because it had already been paid for. By Bulma.

At nearly four thirty, after walking clean across downtown, Vegeta was standing outside Capsule Corp., it's big looming doom giving him a knot. Going here before had been a sanctuary, and break from his life.

He gasped, in little breaths, as he walked; his ribs ached so bad; his throat still burned; his head pounded, he might very well be nauseous; and now his lungs seemed to be joining the Let's Hurt Vegeta Terribly Party.

The doorbell sounded like a gong, and when Mrs. Briefs answered the door, she always-present smile dropped. It was the first time he hadn't seen her all happy-go-lucky; not a good sign.

"May I help you?" If her frown hadn't been eerie, then her voice certainly was.

"I have to talk to Bulma," he said.

"And just why—"

"It's fine mom," he heard her voice from somewhere in the living room. His heart stopped. "We do need to talk. Let him in."

Her mother obeyed, but only so much as allowing him to enter. She didn't move out of his way, so he was forced to squeeze by her.

When he finally laid eyes on her, she was more beautiful than he remembered. She was wearing a simple black dress, strapless, and held a matching purse in her hands.

"Where are you going?" he blurted out. "I mean—"

"Chi-Chi, 18, and I are going out to celebrate Chi-Chi and Goku's engagement."

"When—"

"I'm picking them up in twenty minutes."

"Right."

"I need your signature, Vegeta." She reached into the desk beside her, then closed the gap between them and tried to hand him what he'd been dreading. Divorce papers. "I worked everything out. Just sign. It pretty much says we'll go back to normal, nothing changed."

"Nothing changed?"

She laughed and said, "No. Of course not. Neither of us acquired assets or—"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

She sighed. She didn't have time to deal with this.

"Why the hell did you pay my hospital bill? Why'd you send Goku to check on me? Why aren't you upset! And why the hell are you divorcing me! We haven't even talked yet."

"Which one do you want me to answer?" she asked, docile.

"Bulma!"

"I paid the bill," she said, annoyed, "because I knew you couldn't. I sent Goku, because I care about you, and so does he. I'm not upset because I don't love you anymore. And I'm divorcing you because you never loved me."

"That's not true!"

"Of course it is. You couldn't possibly pay—"

"Stop that! Stop making this difficult!"

"Because you expected it to be easy? Come on Vegeta, no good comes from greed."

His face paled. What he hadn't realized until just now was that coming here would be a confrontation about why he'd accept money from Yamcha. Was he ready for that?

"If not of this was real," she started, making true what he'd dreaded, "why did you marry me? I'm sure that wasn't part of the plan."

"Because I—"

"Oh Kami," she gasped, having just realized something terrible. She dropped her purse and stared. "Did you…Did you think you could get more money? Yamcha's money wasn't enough. You wanted mine too?"

Now it was Vegeta's turn to be horrified.

"NO!"

"Well nothing else makes sense, Vegeta. I mean, what kind of person takes money to date someone else? Who are you?"

"One look at my apartment and you'd know why," he murmured.

She ignored him.

"Don't divorce me," he finally said. "Not yet."

"Vegeta, just stop—"

"Hear me out. Stay with me, for a year. If we can't work things out by then, I'll sign anything you want."

"And just why would I do that?" she laughed. This was getting more ridiculous by the second. "We don't belong together, Vegeta, simple as that. Besides, our relationship was a big scam."

"You love me."

"I thought I loved you. There's a difference. Plus, we're too young to be married. We made a mistake, and now I'm going to fix it. Don't ruin anything else, Vegeta. Just let it go."

"But what if it wasn't a mistake?" What the hell was he saying? Of course it was!

"How could it not be? It wasn't even real!"

"Why wasn't it real?"

Bulma sighed and reached down to retrieve her fallen bag. "What are you trying to do, Vegeta? Get me to fall for you? Because after what's happened, that's impossible."

"You're not mad."

"Why? Because I'm not yelling. Of course I'm mad, you moron. I'm pissed that you lied to me and made money off of me. But I'm not going to yell and scream and throw things at you. You don't deserve it."

"What don't I deserve? To see you upset over this?"

"Exact—" She glared heatedly at him. "No. I'm not upset. I already said that. It was a mistake and I know that now. Uh," she groaned. "Whatever. Can we just finish this? I have to leave. My lawyer said all you have to do is sign the papers." Again she held them out. "So sign them."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. "In one year," he answered stubbornly.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" she sighed. Great. One more thing to deal with.

"I meant it when I asked you to marry me, Bulma. That was never part of Richboy's deal, as you so nicely pointed out. He never wanted this. It's what I wanted."

"The only reason you wanted to marry me is so that when I found out what you did, it would be harder for me to get rid of you."

"Exactly," he said, unfolding his arms to make a gesture. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Do you actually think I care that you love me?"

Vegeta was struck silent with painful realization. That had been his only card to play. And it was a Joker.

"You were only looking out for yourself when you agreed to date me. Now I'm looking out for myself. It works both ways. You can't have everything."

"It's only a year." Bulma pursed her lips tightly; was he begging?

"Fine," she hissed. "But," she added quickly, pointing a rigid finger at him, "I have terms…We graduate in a few months, and after that I'm going to England for college. What I want, if I don't change my mind, is for you to stay away from me for the entire year that I'm supposed to be thinking things over. No phone calls to explain yourself, or check up on me, or letters to do the same. Nothing. No contact whatsoever. Now I know it's impossible for me not to see you while we're still in school, but if you say one word to me then the deal's off. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." He did all he could not to smile.

"One year. No contact."

"Yes."

"Anything else before I go?" She glanced at her watch. She was late.

"Yeah. You're wrong."

"About what?"

"You do care. You're just too angry to admit it."

Bulma made it a block down the road before she had to pull over. And she cried.


I know that took FOREVER. I get so busy and so uncreative. But I'm on a roll here. Besides, I only have a few more chapters left. I know! Crazy!

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