AN: Long time no see, huh? I know its been over two years since I updated on this story, but if you would all be so kind as to let me explain, I think you will understand why.

I actually ended up going through something very similar to this back in 2018. Someone I loved very dearly got severely injured, but unlike Bulma here, he never recovered. I can't even begin to describe the pain and turmoil I endured for the next two years, and the thought of picking this story back up made me sick because it meant having to face what happened to me personally. The emotional trauma I portrayed Vegeta going through in this story does not even BEGIN to touch what it's really like. If I had known what it was really like, this story would have been 10x the tear jerker.

Also, I've decided to go a different route than originally planned, so if there are any discrepancies, just know that I'm combing through and working on it as I can. I'm also in Nursing school so my devotion time to stories is limited.

HOOOOOWEEVER, if you all would want to do me a big favor and go show my Story Project Eden some love, I would really appreciate it! It's my brain child and I would love for it to have as much attention as this story gets!

Lots of Love, Rogue

There could never have been a lonelier time in her life than what she was experiencing now, Bulma thought as she drove along the coastline. One hand on the wheel, the other holding her head that was propped up by the closed window of her car, she watched the road blankly. She had no clear direction-no place she was willing to go when no place felt like home. A sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach had lingered around as she wasted the day away doing nothing but trying to recollect thoughts that weren't even there. Who even was she? She wondered as she stared out the window while parked at a red light. The full moon was beginning to rise over the ocean, glinting across the rippling water like the stars in the cold night sky did above it. Small signs of life broke the surface as the creatures of the night began their routines, crawling out of her homes during the day to the surface begin nightly rituals. Behind them, the glimmering lights of a distant city danced along the coast. Bulma sighed, fogging up her window. She wanted so badly to go home, but after last night she just wasn't sure if she could. Glancing back to the crude suitcase she had packed, she wondered just how long it would be before she had to brave seeing Vegeta again. The thought made her sick, but at the same time, played strings in her heart. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of anything anymore.

Honking horns interrupted her lamenting. The light had turned green, and in assuming she was holding up the traffic, she began to move out of the way. Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention though: A big, black truck about five hundred feet away with its lights turned off. It was parked in a dimly lit parking lot of an old gas station facing the roadway, but with the silhouette of a person in the driver's seat. Normally, she wouldn't have paid that much attention to it, but something about the whole situation seemed incredibly suspicious to her. Shrugging off the chills though, she continued to drive as to not cause an accident. There was something nagging at her, though. It was like an impending sense of doom crawling behind her, inching its way down her spine until she shivered. Glancing into her review mirror, she could see what seemed like regular traffic behind her but couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right about it.

Suddenly, a loud pop radiated throughout her ears and shortly after, she lost control of the wheel. Shrill screams could be heard all throughout the highway as she pulled all her strength into getting the car onto the side of the road safely. The smell of burning rubber and the sound of scraping only got stronger as she pulled herself onto the shoulder, her tense shoulders and fingers gripping the leather steering wheel with all her strength. When she finally relaxed enough, she unclasped her seat belt and slowly exited the car, being very mindful of the traffic that whizzed by her. Taking herself to the front of the car, she found she didn't have to closely examine anything to see what the problem was. Her front, driver's side tire was completely flat. Loudly groaning, she kicked it, then sank down the side of her door. There was no traffic now, only the stragglers that were steadily making their way by. She even managed to make eye contact with a couple, but none stopped to help. So, there she was-stuck. Far from where she called home, and even farther away from figuring anything out. Grabbing the spare and tools from the trunk, she silently thrashed herself for taking the one car that had wheels as opposed to its hovering cousins.

Just as she knelt to begin the process of changing the tire though, bright headlights pulled up from behind her. Shielding her eyes, she peered up, but couldn't make out any details about the vehicle or its driver. Only thing she could tell was that whoever it was getting out was a man with a deep southern accent who called out to her as he approached her.

"B-Bulma?" She heard him cry in excitement as his heavy boot laden footsteps approached. "Is that really you?"

"Huh? Who are you?" She asked, visible concern plain on her face as he was now standing over her.

Her fight or flight reflexes began to kick in, and as she grabbed hold of her tire iron, she watched him throw his hands up and kneel to her level. He was tall and square jawed with stubble and thick, luscious, curly, dirty-blond hair. His eyes were as deep a blue as any ocean on the face of the earth, and his lips a like soft pink rose petals. Bulma felt herself flush red, but there was no recollection of him at all, and yet he knew her name. Gently he took the tire iron from her hand and placed it on the ground to guard his own safety. She followed it with her eyes, but at once switched back to making eye contact with this handsome stranger.

"You don't recognize me at all, do you?" He asked in that thick southern drawl that made a bolt of electricity fly up her spine.

Still, she furrowed her brow, "Well, duh. I wouldn't be asking if I did."

The stranger laughed, a strong, robust laugh that made her insides feel a dozen various kinds of tingly, and said, "Man you still got that attitude," then, oh-so slowly, placed his hand on her hand and answered, "It's me, Bull."

Glancing between his hand and his eyes, Bulma looked curiously into his eyes, "Bull?" She asked with confusion caking her words.

His eyes eased up even more, and his lips parted delicately as if he were trying to contemplate what to say next. After what seemed like an eternity of this, he finally answered, "Bulma... I'm your little brother."

"There's still no sign of her anywhere," Gohan reported as he landed from the sky onto the deck where everyone waited patiently.

Vegeta shot up from his seat where he had so anxiously waited for any sort of good news. Fury lit up his eyes and words, "What do you mean? We've scoured this entire city! Where could she have gone off to!"

"I don't understand!" Bulma's mother lamented as she supported her head on her wrists, "This isn't like Bulma to just run off somewhere all willy nilly!"

"She's not herself," her father retorted as he shook his head. The little black kitten he carried on his shoulder mewed and slumped along the crook of his neck, also appearing worrisome and exhausted.

Gritting his teeth, Vegeta slung his chair backwards, causing everyone in the proximity to scatter and scream as they dodged the projectiles and splintered wood. Stomping up to the siderails, he mustered all his force into his lungs, casting his gaze into the city before him. With a mighty yell, he echoed her name at the top of his lungs so loudly that people for blocks cast their curious gazes to the sky and stopped what they were doing. Birds fled their nests and grounded animals burrowed back into their holes to escape what wrath may come their way. The prince could only grip the side rails though, trying hard not to crush them as he glared out at the horizon. 'Where in the hell could she have gotten off to?' he wondered. They had done every but tear the city apart looking for her for twenty-four hours. It almost seemed as if she had just vanished into thin air. The thought made him queasy.

He pushed off the rail and stormed past everyone who had just recently thrown themselves in the floor to avoid his wrath. They all glanced between each other in wonder, even the animals as he marched pass them. A storm of emotion was radiating from him, shaking even the smallest pebble as he parted the doors and gazed into the night sky. Memories flooded him of when he first met her. Gently, he closed his eyes in remembrance: The young, beautiful, puffy haired earth woman who stood her ground to him. She nursed him when he was hurt and scolded him when he was wrong. A creeping smile touched his lips. He may have hated it at the time, but now those were memories he wouldn't dare give up. With her, he had built a life that he couldn't build with anyone else. No Saiyan or human alike could ever take her place. She couldn't be gone.

He knew he was tough, but this was a hard on a whole other level.

"Bulma," he whispered mostly to himself, "I don't know where you are, but I will you if it's the last thing I do."

She could have cut the tension in that small, rustic kitchen with a knife as she sat there and stirred the sugar in her tea. Bull, her so called 'brother', sat across the table from her with his cell phone in hand, texting away and paying her hardly any attention. He jabbered the entire way to his home about things from their supposed childhood that she had zero memory of. That, however, seemed to be her constant state. She stayed silent while she tried to shake off the foreboding feeling that something was horribly amiss-like this was just some sort of a trap that she had gotten herself in. Her throbbing heart wouldn't calm, and it showed in her nervous leg twitch. Placing her hand on her knee to stop it, she also took a second to check her watch. It was almost midnight, and even though Bull had offered up her home, she didn't think she could handle staying there for the night. Something just wasn't right.

Peering between him and her tea, she devised a plan to leave without conflict, "Where is your restroom?" She asked as nonchalantly as she could.

Raising his eyebrows, he slid his eyes over to her and stood, "It's down the hall. Here, I'll show you," he said as he stood up with a grunt and stretched. "Gettin' ready to wind down myself here."

"Oh yeah, definitely," she laughed as she stood with him and fake yawned and stretched. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna take a shower. I feel super gross," she awkwardly giggled while rubbing the back of her head.

Bull laughed, "Go right on ahead. Towels are under the sink."

He did as he said and lead her straight to the bathroom down a long hall that was paneled with old wood. She tried to act as calmly as she could, but her danger-detector was going off the charts. There were no pictures on the walls, no art, no family portraits-nothing to signify anything about him being her brother. It didn't even look like he had a family on his own. The signs that a life was being lived in that house were also very minimal, not like a bachelor pad at all. Everything was so clean-so tidy. She doubted a man could live like this 24/7. She became more and more uneasy by the second, and nearly ran into him when they stopped in front of the bathroom. He opened the door with a long creak and looked back at her with what Bulma hoped to kami wasn't a smirk.

"Here ya go, sis. Just holler if you need anything," he said as she entered, closing the door to where there was just a crack left.

Unsettled, Bulma closed it the rest of the way and locked it. Then, she made sure it was locked by tugging and twisting it several times before she felt any sort of comfort that she would be left alone. She had to time this just right if she wanted it to work, but something was eating at her. Her instincts told her to look under the cracks of the door, reminding her that she never heard his heavy boot steps walking away. First, she turned on the faucet to drown out any sort of noise, and then, very carefully, she got down on her knees and put her head to the ground. Squinting, she narrowed in on what she hoped wasn't what she thought it was: A pair of dirty, wrangler boots right outside of the door. They were as still as her heart was at that very moment. Using her hand to choke back her gasps and cries, she slowly stood up and backed away. This man was not her brother. He couldn't be. Is he waiting for me to take off my clothes? She wondered to herself. She didn't want to stick around and find out though. Quickly she faked using the toilet and flushed it, the mimicked the sound of clothes hitting the floor with some towels he had hanging. Three knocks hit the wooden door after that, and Bulma felt as if she were going to be sick. She was right.

"Who is it?" She dumbly answered, instantly striking her forehead with her wrist in disgust.

Bull laughed from the other side of the door, "It's Akira Toriyama, who do you think it is? I just wanted to make sure you're ok," he chimed.

Faking a laugh of her own, she responded, "I'm fine! Be out in a second!"

She wasted no time turning that shower, fan, and vent on full blast to drown out any sort of noise that would be alarming. Then, carefully, she opened the window, praying that it wasn't hooked to any sort of an alarm system. Relief flooded her body when it came open without problem or noise, but then opened the door for her next issue. The window was shoulder height and on the second floor. If she could manage to hoist herself out of it, she would have a hard fall. Grimacing, she realized she didn't have much of choice since she was litterally trapped by a bull. Three hard knocks came again, this time followed by the rustling of a doorknob. Panicking, she dragged the stepping stool that was so conveniently placed there for her use and hoisted herself out. Along the side of the house there was a gutter that she grabbed onto and wrapped her thin frame around. Breathing small sighs of relief, she began to let herself down one inch at a time. She got almost halfway there before she heard the bathroom door burst open, and then she sank the rest of the way like her heart.

"Bulma!" She heard this so called "Bull" yell angrily. Scrambling for the bushes, she heard him follow up with an, "Aw, hell!" before the door slammed shut. Her heart was pounding a thousand miles a second as the adrenaline flooded her veins. Looking to her left, she vaguely caught sight of a basement window, wherein, there were three more big, heavy men standing around a pool table shooting their shots. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. She had no idea they were even there. Her time to panic though, was running short. Bull burst through the basement door, probably reporting her departure and she would have to make a run for it right then. All four men dashed out of the basement, and she made for the street. She just had to make it somewhere where there was light and people, it was her only chance. Wind whipped all around her as she dashed through the yard and onto the sidewalk, then into a canopy of trees.

"Hey! There she went!" Another man whom she was unfamiliar with yelled from behind her. They sounded closer than they were, but it only helped fuel her feet as she sprinted through branches and thorns. Her heart sounded like thunder in her chest, even as she came to a break in the woods that lead to a little community road. Taking the pavement, she bolted for the nearest streetlight.

She could no longer see or hear them, but something just told her that she wasn't quite safe yet. Still, she had to catch her breath. It had felt like only moments but checking her watch confirmed that she had been running full force for nearly 30 minutes. Exhausted, she turned her eyes to the sky, hoping some miracle would fall out for her, and she was in luck. Something caught her eyes-something small flying above the tree line. Upon further inspection, she felt her heart rejoice.

Vegeta.

"Hey!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Cupping her hands over her mouth to help her voice travel even farther, she bellowed, "Vegeta!"

She didn't know how he was flying, nor did she care. The footsteps behind her were growing louder by the second, but the moment Vegeta snapped his attention in her direction she began waving her arms frantically. He was her hope and salvation in that very moment, and he wasted to time coming to her. He moved with the speed of light, frantically running to her and yelling her name after he landed. From the time he took to notice her, then to get to her, they were already upon her, but he didn't seem to notice. She wailed as he took her into his arms and found her sanctuary, pleading for his forgiveness over and over again. Pressing his nose into her soft, blue hair, he took in her scent again as if it were the first time ever.

"Awe, how sweet," Bull mocked from behind. Vegeta's eyes snapped open. What was once love glimmering in them was instantly replaced by fury and hate. Pushing Bulma behind him, he stepped to face the crowd, his nose turning upwards as his eyes locked with the one responsible. Bull narrowed hs eyes back, his lips twisting into a smug grin. He moved, unaware of what he was about to get himself into. "Nice of you to catch her for us, but we'll take it from here," he laughed as he took steps in their direction, brandishing a handgun.

"No, I don't think so," Vegeta taunted, making sure that Bulma was behind him fully and out of harm's way.

Shrugging, Bull answered, "Fine, suit yourself then," and aimed the gun at Vegeta's head. "Any last words?" He asked as he turned the safety off and prepared to fire.

A mischievous grin spread across Vegeta's face. He made no sound nor move other than the raising of his middle finger as an act of defiance. Bulma stayed behind him, ignorant to what was happening with her head buried in his back and eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't until she heard the gun fire off and echo in this tiny neighborhood that she even made a move. Fearing the worst, she peered up, shocked to see Vegeta still standing upright and unphased. She, however, was not nearly as shocked as the gang in front of her. They stood before Vegeta, trembling in horror and disbelief. The gun dropped out of Bull's hand, his mouth agape. Staggering back, he tried to form words but couldn't.

Vegeta had caught the bullet seconds before it hit his face and held it firmly in the palm of his hand. Showing it to them as evidence, he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger so there was no denying it. Several members shook their heads, hoping that what they were seeing was some sort of a fever dream that they could wake out of. Others resorted to calling him a freak before turning tail and running like cowards. Bull, however, stayed glued to his spot, caught under the gravity of Vegeta's eyes.

"Bang," Vegeta uttered with death gleaming in his eyes.

The bullet shot out from his hand when he flicked it, giving Bull little time to even comprehend what was happening before it collided with his head. After that, his buddies didn't stick around for long. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Vegeta had half a mind to kill them too, but decided to let them off with a 'warning'. After all, seeing their friend lying in a pool of his own blood ater trying to kill him was enough. Right? Chuckling, he turned back to Bulma who was still visibly shaken, but even more ready to put that night behind her. Exchanging glances, the only thing she could do to verbalize her desire was nod. A slight smile lit up his face, and without even asking he took her in his arms, and she threw her arms over his neck.

"Let's go home," he whispered on the top of her head. Nodding, she laid her head on his chest as they lifted into the air. The cold, moist atmosphere chilled her, but not nearly as badly as that night did. Turning into his skin to shield herself as they flew, she vowed she would never do something that stupid ever again.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta," she murmured.

Vegeta took in a deep breath, "Don't be," he sighed.

"I'll never leave you again," she promised.

Instinctively, he pulled her closer, and she responded accordingly, "Promise me that, Bulma," he spoke.

Peering up into his eyes that were pointed straight ahead, Bulma smiled softly and caressed his cheek to pull his attention to her eyes, "I promise."

She meant every word of it. Whatever shock or spell that came over her previously was gone and it melted in their kiss and embrace. What she had with him before may have been lost in a sea of tragedy and turmoil, but what was blooming now was different- maybe even stronger. She may not know exactly who or what they were at this point, but a few things were for sure: She was safe with him and his love was genuine. She maybe no longer be the Bulma Briefs he married, but he would always be her prince.