A/N: I don't own DBZ or the characters, that honour belongs to Akira Toriyama. I use British English spelling.


Morbid curiosity brought him to the small house in the country. He landed in a field of damp grass as the moon peeked behind fluffy grey clouds. A cacophony of insects and other night creatures filled the night, overtaken only by the occasional raised sob coming from the cottage.

He could feel Kakarot's woman's ki spiking with each of her cries. The haunting sounds made the vaguely nauseous feeling at the pit of his stomach twist. He sank to his knees, squelching into the soft terrain. Gohan's ki twitched with each of his mother's wails, his signature swimming in both anger and fear.

Another ki signature resided in the house, similar to Gohan's. Kakarot's woman was far along enough for Vegeta to spot it without directly feeling for it. Kakarot must have known his wife's condition.

Did that spur his decision? And did he know that this would be the result - a devastated wife facing the prospect of raising two children alone, and an angry pre-pubescent son who would have no father to guide him through the most difficult time in a Saiyan's life?

Vegeta took off his gloves, still stained with mud and blood from battle, then placed his bare hands on the cool grass to steady himself. He had no right to judge the other Saiyan's choice. Kakarot's decision to leave Earth was exactly what Vegeta had planned to do, right up until the moment he'd seen Cell shoot a hole through his son's heart.

But Vegeta hadn't wanted to leave to keep Earth safe. Earth could be eviscerated and he wouldn't care. No, his own decision to leave was born out of selfishness. He wanted to keep the woman and child safe, that was true, but more than anything else he didn't want to be responsible for their deaths. He'd caused enough damage to the people he cared about, and the idea of hurting them was unbearable.

But when he'd seen his son die before his eyes, he realised that preventing himself from being responsible wasn't enough. The mere idea of either of them coming to harm sent a flood of emotions through Vegeta that he didn't know existed. Anyone could come along at any moment and snatch away the lives of his woman and child. If he left them on Earth alone, unable to defend themselves, was he any less responsible?


It wasn't until Trunks had died and come back to life that he realised of all the questions he'd come up with for his father, he'd never asked him what dying was like. Or returning for that matter.

Turned out, both sucked.

After returning to Capsule Corp and breaking the news of Goku's decision to his mother, Trunks had escaped to his room as soon as he could – which hadn't been until the evening. He would be going home in the morning, but in the meantime he didn't know what to do with himself. Feeling twitchy and on edge, he sat on the end of his bed and buried his head in his hands, sucking in deep, slow breaths and bouncing his knee up and down. He couldn't stop thinking about the moment of his death. It had been both painful and petrifying. All he'd been able to think about in his last moments was that his world would never be saved.

Being wished back changed that of course, but he felt like he hadn't quite returned yet - like his mind was still partially floating in the afterlife, trying to catch up with his physical body. Dying was obviously the worse of the two, but he felt disoriented… almost weightless.

Had Vegeta felt like this after Namek too? Trunks reached out with his mind, trying to find his father's ki. He hadn't seen Vegeta since he'd returned and had been disappointed not to see him on the lookout. Surprisingly, Vegeta was on Capsule Corp grounds. Up on the roof, it felt like.

Had Vegeta really gone ballistic at Cell after seeing him dead? Yamcha was obvious in his dislike of Vegeta, so it didn't seem like the kind of thing he'd make up. Trunks couldn't help a grin at the idea of Vegeta throwing aside his pride and attacking Cell, even though it would have made the fact he cared for Trunks obvious to all the Z fighters. After spending a year with his father, he knew enough about him to understand that a reaction like that had to mean something.

Trunks slipped out his balcony door and went find his father. As he'd sensed, Vegeta was on the curved roof of Capsule Corp's largest building. He sat with one arm resting on his bent knee, and appeared to be scanning the stars. He hadn't changed out of his battle suit, although he'd discarded his armour and gloves. Mud and traces of blood smeared his skin and the suit, and Trunks could tell from his ki that he hadn't received any treatment for his injuries.

Trunks landed beside his father, who didn't acknowledge his presence. Taking the lack of instruction to leave as permission to stay, Trunks sat down beside him.

The stars weren't bright due to the full moon, and Trunks couldn't tell which one his father was looking at. Maybe he wasn't looking at one in particular, but the stars in general. Trunks' heart sank. He was probably planning where to go next.

Vegeta let out all their air in his lungs with a huff and glanced at Trunks. "That battle was…" he frowned and waved his hand in a circle. "A gurishalya."

Trunks raised his eyebrows at the foreign word. "A gur… what?"

"A fucking mess," Vegeta muttered.

Trunks let out a small laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it. Everything worked out in the end though. Well, almost everything."

Vegeta shrugged at that, and turned back to the sky.

"When you got wished back, did you feel…" Trunks struggled to put a word to it. "…different?"

Vegeta crinkled his nose. "Yes."

"I'm glad I'm back, but I keep feeling like… like…" Trunks exhaled in exasperation.

"Like the ground is about to slide out from under you," Vegeta said quietly.

"Yeah." Trunks drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. "Does it go away?"

"Eventually. Or maybe I got used to it."

They stayed in silence for a while, the brisk wind chilling Trunks. He didn't mind though. At least he felt alive.

Vegeta broke the silence first. "Do you-" His breath caught and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he stared directly ahead. "Do you think Kakarot made the right decision?"

Trunks wondered how Vegeta had found out about Goku's refusal to come home. He hadn't sensed him at the lookout when he'd been wished back, but he supposed his father could have easily been suppressing his ki. Trunks considered the question. "It was a… noble choice I suppose." Goku had seemed almost excited by the prospect of a new adventure, and if the idea of leaving his wife and child behind bothered him, his tone of voice hadn't shown more than surface regret. "I don't think making a decision for the greater good is necessarily always the right one though."

Vegeta's expression didn't change at his words, but Trunks could tell from the slightly tightening of his shoulders that he was listening.

"Growing up without a father was hard for both me and Gohan," Trunks continued. "Gohan did his best to show me what being a Saiyan meant, but he was just as clueless as me. The idea that this Gohan has to grow up without a father in this time as well… it's not fair."

"Nothing in life is fair," Vegeta replied quietly. He put his hands in front of him, turning them to look at his palms. "I've destroyed almost everything I've touched. I've caused so much pain to so many people. How is it fair that I have the chance of a normal life?"

"Maybe it isn't fair," Trunks said. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of understanding his father and what he'd done in his life. "But the infant version of me in the building below us deserves a normal life. Will you really take that away from him because you don't think, even after everything Frieza put you through, that you have the right to be happy?"

"I don't know how to be…"

"Normal?" Trunks ventured when Vegeta trailed off and gave no sign of continuing.

"All of it. Normal. Happy. A father."

Trunks chuckled. "You're already a father. You managed a year of it with a teenager. By the time the son sitting in the building below us gets to that point you'll be a pro."

"Prince Vegeta, destroyer of planets, harbinger of death, and father of the year. There's a certain ring to it." Vegeta shook his head, then made to stand up, wincing as he did so.

Trunks didn't offer him help, knowing he wouldn't take it anyway, but watched him carefully, noting the deep gash on his leg and the way he avoided putting weight on his left arm.

"I don't have your confidence in my parental abilities," Vegeta said once he'd got to his feet. He tilted his head to the sky. "But I'm glad you came to this timeline."

He launched into the sky then, disappearing into the dark night.

Trunks smiled to himself and remained gazing at the stars his father had come from.


Her sobs were not like Kakarot's wife. They were softer, more rhythmic, as if she wasn't even conscious she was crying. Maybe she wasn't. Her ki level and the regularity of her breathing indicated she was at least partially asleep.

She'd left her balcony door open a crack - and invitation for him, he was sure. Dawn would break in a couple of hours, and if he'd been less self-involved he would have returned sooner. He'd been so involved in his brooding that he hadn't thought about the fact that Bulma had just lost her best friend.

Vegeta lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her shadowy form. He still hadn't showered, or washed off his battle grime and he had multiple wounds that needed attending to. Every muscle hurt, and his head could well explode at any moment. None of that mattered though, because even though an hour ago he'd needed the open air and the emptiness of the sky, right now he needed to feel her presence.

He crept inside stealthily, then set himself down in a chair beside her bed. She didn't stir, so he rested back in their chair and closed his eyes, attempting to will the pounding in his head away.

"Come to bed," Bulma murmured.

He stayed where he was, feeling physically unable to move. "I'll get blood on your sheets," he replied drowsily.

There was a click, and warm light flooded the room. Vegeta grimaced and covered his eyes.

Cool hands found his forehead then he felt the press of her lips against his. He pulled his hand away from his eyes, keeping them closed to avoid the light, then kissed her back.

"You're a mess," she whispered as she pulled away. "Come with me."

He opened his eyes and looked at her then, taking in her tear-streaked face and wondering selfishly if she'd cried like that when he had died, in the other timeline.

She tugged on his hand, forcing him up, and when his leg buckled as he walked she wrapped his arm around his waist. He could have made it by himself, but he let her fuss, let himself lean on her a little as they moved towards her bathroom.

She helped him strip down with surprising efficiency, then had him in the warm water. "Rinse off all the dirt," she commanded. "I'll be back."

He did as she said, ignoring the sting of water running through his wounds as he let the dirt and blood drain away. When she came back, clothes and a large first aid kit in hand, he stepped out and dried off, then pulled on boxers she handed to him.

"Sit." She pointed out of the bathroom and towards her bed.

Following her orders, he sat on her bed then let her dress and bandage his wounds. She scowled when she saw the one on his leg. "Remind me to check this tomorrow. If it hasn't started healing you should get stitches."

She tossed him his pants and t-shirt and he pulled them on wearily. When she climbed back into bed then patted the sheet beside her, he climbed in as well, falling against the pillow hard and letting her curl up against him. He pulled her closer and buried his head in her hair, his throat choking up as he realised how close he'd come to being the reason for her world's destruction.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It was my fault Cell got that strong. It's because of me that Trunks and Kakarot died."

"Goku chose not to come back." Bulma sniffed and Vegeta felt her move to wipe her eyes. "He did exactly what you said you would do - leave his family to keep them safe. I'm terrified you're going to make the same decision."

"I should leave." They'd be better off without him. Despite what Trunks told him, he knew that as a father he'd do little more than wreck his own child's life. "Every choice I make brings death. My father wouldn't have died if he hadn't been trying to rescue me. Kalyana wouldn't have been caught if I hadn't given her access to the base…" The words came flossing out and he could stop them or the hot, salty moisture coming from his eyes. "And then I killed her. And if I had killed Cell when I had the chance instead of letting a stupid challenge get the best of me, Trunks wouldn't have died. It's all… it's all…" His voice cracked and he took a few shaky breaths.

"Don't think like that," Bulma whispered fiercely, running her hands through his hair. "We don't walk through life alone. Others make choices too, and we all impact each other. Stay with me. Stay with your son."

Vegeta sighed and didn't reply. He shut his eyes and let Bulma stroke his head and lull him into sleep. He knew he shouldn't take the risk, but he was so tired… so bone weary… he drifted off into the first dreamless sleep in a long time.


He couldn't see his father. The rest of the Z fighters came to see him off, crowding around him to offer their goodbyes, but Vegeta was nowhere to be seen. Trunks felt a pang of disappointment, even though they'd said all they needed to last night.

Trunks sensed his ki just as he was about to board. His father leaned against a tree, shaded by the leaves. He wore neatly ironed slacks and his arms crossed against a button up shirt. He looked so oddly human that Trunks nearly laughed aloud.

Vegeta didn't come over, or say a word. He had dark circles around his eyes, and even though he looked like he'd had treatment for his injuries, the way he leaned against the tree indicated it was because he needed the support, rather than because he was relaxing against the trunk.

Trunks didn't mind the lack of a goodbye in front of everyone. The fact that he'd shown up was enough. When Vegeta raised his hard in a subtle farewell, Trunks did the same, grinning broadly.

Then that timeline disappeared, and the time machine hurtled Trunks back to his own time. When he landed, and saw Capsule Corp's building crumbling before him, Trunks smiled even wider. It wasn't as pristine as the timeline he'd helped save, but he was home.


"What was it like?" His mother tucked her greying hair behind her ear then leaned closer over the table. "What did you think of your father?"

"It was odd seeing you so young." Trunks flushed as he spoke. "You kept flirting with me - it was the most embarrassing thing you have ever done in my entire life."

Bulma tipped her head back and laughed. "Oh no! I'm so sorry. I was a little boy crazy back then."

"Father was… intimidating. Downright terrifying at times. I didn't like him at first - I didn't know how to act around him and he made a point of ignoring me." Trunks curled his hands around his coffee mug and stared at the hot steam swirling off it. "And I know it's silly, but I wasn't expecting him to be so… alien."

Bulma laughed at that. "Those eyes, huh."

"Yeah! Even the way he moved and spoke seemed strange."

"Did you manage to get more than three words out of him?" Bulma took a sip of her own coffee, then chuckled as she set it back down on the table. "He always took the strong, silent type to a whole new level."

"Eventually," Trunks said with a small smile. "He told me a lot actually. About his home, and what it was like working for Frieza. I thought he was cold and unfeeling when I met him, but he's not. He just hides it well. What he'd been through… I don't think anyone else in the universe could get through what he did."

"Really?" Bulma raised her eyebrows. "He barely told me anything about his past." She sighed sadly. He'd only just started to open up when…" she spread her hands in front of her with a shrug.

Trunks thought for a moment, then smirked. "He told me not to tell anyone in his time what we spoke about."

"So, this time doesn't count." Bulma grinned back at him. "Tell me everything."


Vegeta rifled through the kitchen cupboard desperately, unable to see what he was looking for thanks to the dancing lights in front of his eyes. As a wave a pain washed across his forehead, he slumped to the ground with a groan, letting his head rest on the cool tiles.

Time blurred, and he had no idea how long he lay there before he heard footsteps.

"What are you…" Bulma gasped and he felt her fingers patting his face. "Headache?" She asked.

He could only whimper in reply.

Moments later he felt two pills being pushed into one hand, and a cold glass of water pushed into the other. Hands trembling, he took the medication, spilling half the water. Bulma shifted and pulled his head on her lap and they sat on the kitchen floor. He counted each of his breaths, waiting for the pain to subside, while she gently massaged his forehead.

When Vegeta opened his eyes again and realised he could make out more than blurry shapes, he sat up, the movement making his head jar momentarily. He leaned against the cupboard door, then looked at Bulma.

"Fighting Cell didn't help?" She reached up and put the back of her hand to his head. "You feel a little warmer than usual."

"Fighting doesn't help unless it ends with me ending a life." Vegeta shut his eyes again as every word he spoke rattled around in his skull.

Bulma got up, and when she returned he felt something in his lap. He cracked open his eyes to see an Earthling newspaper, folded to a particular article.

"Whether you stay or go, you need to stop your symptoms first." Bulma stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. "You can't travel like this and I know you don't want to put us in danger. So, do what you must. No ki - I don't want any of the other's sensing it."

Then she left him, sitting on the floor and wondering exactly what his life had come to.

When he read the article title, Red Dress Killer Strikes Again - Fifth Body Found, a dark smile crept onto his face.