Waiting

Bulla liked to refer to it as a 'transitional period,' saying, "He's just having a hard time. He'll get over it."

Trunks argued that a year and three months were a little too long to be called a 'transition.' "He's depressed. He's been that way since Mom died. Bulla, he tried to provoke Goku into killing him."

Trunks' oldest son, twelve year old Koto, told his dad he'd heard Grandfather screaming in his pod. "He scared Sebiro," his younger brother.

Aina, Trunks's wife, said maybe it would be best if Vegeta left. "He's not doing any better, and I don't think it's safe for him to be around the kids. Why doesn't he just go back to wherever he was?"

For the whole, the family hoped to wait the Prince out. "He'll be fine. He just needs to adjust."

The door to Capsule 3 clicked open.

"Grampa."

Vegeta looked down at the tiny child sitting in the grass at the foot of his ramp. Those big blue eyes squinted with the intensity of her smile. He stomped the rest of the distance, hoping to convey his displeasure at her being there, but her expression didn't change. He squatted in front of her, and she immediately reached out with grabby little hands.

"What are you doing out here alone?"

"Grampa."

The doctors had said Sokka's physical development was astounding, despite remaining quite small for her age. She was strong, was already walking independently and speaking rather fluently; her intelligence was staggering, they said, but she was a Briefs, after all. She had the lisp that small children had and struggled sometimes with her 'l's, which her mother said was something she would grow out of, but Vegeta was working her past the weakness. He put his hand out, enormous compared to her, and she wrapped her little limbs around his forearm, effectively turning herself into a koala. It felt like she weighed nothing; he feared breaking her as he brought her closer and sat heavily in the grass. When she was close enough, tiny hands grabbed onto his shirt and held tight.

"I've told you not to be outside by yourself, Sokka." She ignored him and tried to climb onto his shoulder. "Your mother was very upset last time you did this."

"Mama's sweeping."

"Sleeping."

"Sweeping."

"Say the 'l.'"

"Suh-el-eeping."

He pat her hair, cut too short by her mother; there was endless amusement by the upsweep it took on as a result, making her look wild. It was not the flame that was so familiar to Vegeta's family, but it was close.

"Grampa busy?"

"Yes."

She pouted by letting go of his shoulder and sinking into his arm. When her arms crossed, it was difficult not to laugh. He brushed her wild hair back, exposing a very slight widow's peak.

"Would you like to come with me?"

He never understood how eyes could be that blue, or how anyone could look so excited about anything. He also couldn't figure out why his children had been born with blue eyes, instead of brown, but found now he was glad they had.

Vegeta stood, his knees popping as he did, and held the little girl close. "Remember to hold on; your mother would be furious if you fell. You're not supposed to be flying." Sokka giggled, but did as she was told. He'd learned early on that his granddaughter liked flying. Bulla had been the same way when she was young, and it was a Saiyan instinct, so there was little surprise. She found some new thing to awe at the whole way there; Vegeta didn't bother trying to listen to her.

When his feet touched soft, green grass, Sokka started wriggling to be let free. He allowed her to climb down on her own, something Bulla touted was dangerous and irresponsible. She wondered around, stumbling occasionally, until her gaze landed on a large stone pillar. Turning, she watched him sit behind her and crawled into his lap. He stared at the rock silently, unmoving, until Sokka tugged on his shirt.

"What?"

"S'that?"

His throat clicked when he swallowed. "Your grandmother's grave."

"Grama?"

"Yes. It's her birthday."

Vegeta wondered what she was doing in Otherworld, if maybe she'd found her mother and father, who she would be nagging at and what she'd found to bitch about. If it was everything she'd said it had been. If King Yemma had known who she was and who she was important to. If she was happy. If she missed him.

He'd managed to stay in their old bedroom a week. Every day he woke up expecting to roll over and see her sleeping beside him, expecting to find he was dreaming, but no; every day, she was gone, and the ache he'd suppressed was renewed.

One night, he dreamt of the explosion, of feeling her meager ki spike in fear as the ground trembled minutely under his feet. He blasted every door that barred his path because he couldn't feel her, not at all, and that hadn't happened since Buu. He burst through the door to the lab and she was there, lying in a pool of blood and broken glass. He fell back against the wall, staring, thinking it wasn't possible, it couldn't be.

Dad, why wouldn't you let us wish Mom back?

She made me promise.

Promise what?

That I wouldn't.

Upon waking, Vegeta fled to his old room, left nearly untouched since he and Bulma started sharing a bed sometime after Cell. It was exhausting to think of just how long ago that had been; it made him feel like a tired old man. He did, however, take the pillows off the bed; he could still smell her on them, and it was hard to leave that behind.

Frieza had once said he was "a passionate individual." Anything that he deemed of any importance was something he would viciously defend and obsess over. He thought of that often in the months after Bulma's death, how he had killed Nappa himself, had murdered hundreds for slandering his name, yet had been incapacitated at the loss of-

"What's Grama's name?"

"Bulma."

"My name!"

"Yes."

His need for solitude eventually drove him to sleep in the capsule; his appearances for dinner became the only time the family saw him anymore, and even that was becoming rare. He knew his solitude wasn't healthy for himself or his relationship with his children. But he found it hard to take the pitying and criticizing stares.

"Come on," he said at last, lifting Sokka into his arms as he levitated into the air. "Let's get you back home."