A/N: I'm not sure if I'm going to develop this more or not. It works as a one-shot, but it might be worth developing. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to let me know.
Chi-chi's chest hurt from crying. Her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen as she stared dully at the wall. Feeling something pressed into her hand, her fingers clenched automatically and she glanced up to see a woman standing over her.
"Drink this, Chi…" She whispers. "You'll feel better."
Chi-chi swallowed reflexively, not caring if she drank tea or something stronger. She couldn't taste anything anyway.
"Now, you'll understand." Chi-chi whispered, causing the other woman to blink in confusion. Chi-chi sighed. Bulma's own grief over Gohan's death must be slowing down her thoughts. She didn't comprehend what she was trying to say and Bulma was never stupid.
"Understand what?" The blue haired woman asked gently, but Chi-chi only shook her head.
How could she tell Bulma that she'd understand what it was like to fear for her son's life every moment of every day until death took one of them? She'd worried before, certainly. Every mother worries. But before, Trunks had been protected. He'd had someone older and stronger watching out for him.
Not anymore.
Part of Chi-chi's grief wasn't over the loss of her own son at such a young age, but at the life she knew Trunks would live now. He was only thirteen. He was barely more than a baby.
Only he wasn't a child anymore. She'd seen the haunted look in his eyes, when he and Bulma had arrived to tell her about Gohan. She cried, but not all of her tears were for Gohan.
How many more boys would have to grow up before they should? She wouldn't have to wait up at night ever again awaiting news on her child. Whether he had won or lost. Whether he lived or died. Whether he was injured.
But Bulma would.
And Chi-chi already knew what that was going to cost her.