Song lyrics are in Italics and * . . .*
Thanks to Mia Skywalker, Rhianikki and Ane S. Thesia for
betaing.
Legacy
by Lady Lark
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Chapter 4: Picking Up the Pieces
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*Oh it won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall forever.*
The sky was grey with heavy, ponderous clouds. These clouds intermittently produced a soft gentle rain, but this was no warm summer drizzle but bone-chillingly cold showers that hinted of a winter soon to come.
Bra rubbed her arms as she stood at the open doorway to the balcony off of the master bedroom. It had been raining ever since the funeral a week ago and the weather showed no signs of letting up. It was as if nature itself mourned. The aqua-haired woman brushed away the tears that threatened to well over and turned back to survey the bedroom.
The room itself lay virtually untouched since the night of her mother's death. The various tables lay strewn with half-completed inventions, blueprints and brightly colored puzzles. The floor by both the bed and the couch was covered with jumble of baby toys and wipe rags. Only the door to Bulma's closet gave evidence that someone had entered the room, it stood ajar the clothes opened to an empty hanger. Her father refused to sleep here now, instead choosing to sleep in the room he had occupied before he mated her mother.
Both Trunks and Vegeta would have chosen to just seal off this room, but Bra couldn't bear to do that. It would be like sealing off her own mother and she loved her mother too much to do that. So she had been elected to be the one to sort through the room. She was grateful that she didn't need to do this for her mother's lab and office. Bulma, as if sensing her family's reluctance to deal with her death, had cleared out both areas before her illness confined her to her bed.
Where to start? That was the conundrum. Resolutely, she walked over to the couch and bent down. Scooping up the toys and rags, she strode to the hallway and dumped them just outside the door. She repeated the process with the pile beside the king-size bed; she would put them away in the nursery later.
She moved over the card table beside the couch next. On it lay a half-completed jigsaw puzzle. She smiled sadly at the picture on the box, a conglomeration of a bead and embroidered flower gardens surrounded by loose beads and unknotted string. It was her mother's favorite because she said the picture reminded her that great and beautiful things came from chaos. That all you needed to make beauty and order from it was a little ingenuity and hard work. Picking up the connected pieces, Bra crumpled them slightly in her hand and broke them apart, returning the incomplete pictures to a jumble of chaos once again. Carefully she swept the unattached pieces into the box and affixed the cover. Placing the box on top of the small stack of other puzzles, she picked them up and moved them into the hall to await the journey back to the cupboards in the rec room.
Straightening up, she looked back into the room and sighed. She had barely gotten started and already she was feeling drained. Drawing a deep breath, she moved next to the dresser and vanity table. The dresser held Bulma's jewelry case and an assortment of perfumes and scents. The vanity was strewn with make-up and brightly colored scarves. Pulling open the top drawer, Bra saw that it was filled with hair ornaments and brushes.
Unable to hold herself together, the young woman broke down, sinking to her knees in her grief. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed onto her heaving chest. She couldn't handle this any longer, she just couldn't. Placing her face in her hands, she wept.
She didn't know how long she had been kneeling there weeping, when she felt warm, strong arms snake around her from behind and a soft tenor start to croon tonelessly.
"Shhhhhhh. Shhhhhhh, Bra. It'll be alright, I promise you," her mate whispered tenderly, while stroking her forearms.
She turned in his embrace and pressed herself against his chest, soaking his white T-shirt with her tears. "No it won't. Nothing will 'be alright' again! My Mama is dead and my babies will never know her," she wailed.
Goten stroked her back and hair, willing her his strength. He knew that she hadn't cried since that first night when she had collapsed into her father's arms. From then, she had held everything in, becoming the family's rock. But Goten knew her and loved her more than his life, and he knew without knowing how he knew that she hadn't grieved yet. So he let her weep for a few minutes before replying to her last statement.
"Shhhhh. Don't say that, love. I know that everything seems wrong now, but they will get better. Our children with know your mother, we'll make sure of it," he soothed quietly.
"But they won't KNOW her!" she cried piteously into his shirt, banging one of her fists on his chest for emphasis.
"Ooof. Watch it, hun, you might bruise me," he teased gently.
The thought of her bruising him with that little punch struck her as incongruous and unbidden a little giggle slipped past her lips.
"That's my girl," he lightly encouraged, continuing to stroke her back. Abruptly she shifted in his embrace and he was no longer stroking her back something far more interesting. A light flush stained his cheeks, but his mate didn't notice, she was moving to stand up.
Gently, he helped her to her feet. She moved once more to look at the vanity table, fingering something in the top drawer.
"This is what made me lose it, Goten," she said in a subdued voice, pulling out a mother-of –pearl hair clip. "She was saving these so that she could wear them in her hair again and she never got the chance . . ." her voice caught in her throat and tears once again streamed from her blue eyes.
Goten wrapped his arms around her and looked at her in the reflection of the vanity table mirror. "You can't look at it that way, love. Your mom was an amazingly optimistic woman. The fact that she saved these things instead of throwing them out tells me that she had hope for the future. That things would get better someday," he paused briefly and met her eyes in the mirror. "You have to believe that too, Bra. Things will get better. You just gotta have hope," he stressed earnestly.
She turned and slipped her arms around his neck, her azure eyes meeting his obsidian ones. "I know in my head. My heart, though, my heart can't seem to understand," she whispered softly.
"Give it time. Just give it time."
"I'll try," she promised sadly.
He pulled her tighter into his arms. While she breathed deeply and tried to get a grip on her emotions, he surveyed the room. "Hey, Bra?"
"Hmm?"
"Ya want help sorting through this room?"
She shook her head and looked up at him. "No, thanks. I need to do this by myself."
He looked into her eyes piercingly and assessed that she was telling the truth. "Okay," he said finally.
She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks Goten." He grunted noncommittally and waited for her to continue. He didn't have long to wait; he heard her swallow audibly before speaking, "Just don't go very far. I might need you again."
"I'll be here," he replied solemnly giving her a soft kiss.
As he left the room, Bra hazarded a glance out the balcony doors and she thought she saw a glimmer of sunshine.
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AN: Whoa! It's been a while since I posted. Like months. A lot has happened to me in that time -- I found and then lost a job due to the econmoic problems. I found a stray kitten and adopted him. My roommate's two dogs came down from Michigan and are now living with us. All in all we have a pretty full apartment. I've worked two conventions also since I last posted -- Otakon in Security Ops and AnimeFest Orlando as The Guest Wrangler.
The other big thing going on with me is my New Mailing list. DBZFanficGems -- A reader's list for good DBZ fanfiction. ^_^
Review Replies:
Sue -- You are right. Bulma would want her family to move on and hopefully this story will show how they do that while still honoring her memory.
Selenity Jade -- *Hands you a tissue* Thanks
Diamond Girl -- Thank you for your review and your sympathy.
Lady Bulma -- Thank you for everything. I am working on more stories. Another songfic (I like those) and another character vignette of Vegeta. I hope to have them out soon along with updates of my other stories. Now I just have to stop reading so damn much and write more.
Phoenix Feather -- Wow you reviewed all three chapters I am honored! Each of the Different characters is in a different stage of the grief process many of them bounce back and forth between the various stages.
To all my readers -- Thanks for reading ^_^