Chapter 7 – To Find What's Lost

Rain

A song by Breaking Benjamin

Take a photograph,
It'll be the last,
Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here,

I don't have a past
I just have a chance,
Not a family or honest plea remains to say,

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Is it you I want,
Or just the notion
Of a heart to wrap around so I can find my way around

Safe to say from here,
Your getting closer now,
We are never sad cause we are not allowed to be

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

(repeat)

To lie here under you,
Is all that I could ever do,
To lie here under you is all,
To lie here under you is all that I could ever do,
To lie here under you is all,

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Rain rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun,
All the world is waiting for the sun,
All the world is waiting for the sun.

Everything was numbing at first as Vegeta found himself floating in limbo. His ears picked up the distant sound of rain. His eyes searched for the sound and he saw a black dot speedily growing as it rushed to meet him. The thunderous downpour of random thoughts and flashbacks surrounded him; leaving the warrior too stunned to react. Some he recognized, some he didn't, and soon realized these were not his own. Damned if the Prince of Saiyans would be drawn into this showering freak show without maintaining some sense of control. Tensing, he growled then commanded as loud as he mentally could, "That's enough!" Instantly, the tiny images went silent. They dropped in place forming into a long corridor of which the Saiyan was lying face down. "Dende. What now?!" the Prince hissed as he got to his feet.

Vegeta found himself in an endless hallway of doors, some plain, some colored, some decorated. He was no longer in his pajamas, but in uniform; complete with gold inlaid armor and boots. It was the original style of the Saiyan Prince complete with his father's red insignia engraved on his left breast plate. A red cape was attached to his shoulders and draped behind him. Smirking, he took it up to appreciate the finest material found on planet Vegeta that was reserved for the royal family.

Something else brushed the Prince's arm and his eyes went wide. As if it had a mind of its own, the dark brown tail flicked from his reaching grasp. A moment of concentration and Vegeta was once again in complete control of his furry appendage. Holding a palm out, the tail came around and draped over the gloved hand. The Saiyan grunted in approval. Then his eyes grew dark. Unless he had somehow gone back in time or jumped to another timeline this couldn't be real. To make certain, he clamped down on the tail and tried to crush it. Just as he had expected…he felt nothing, therefore, this must be a dream.

From somewhere ahead he heard the wail of an infant. Oddly, he was compelled to find it. As he walked then ran down the hallway, he questioned his growing urgency. Was it paternal instinct? Impossible. He reasoned it was merely the need to know what this was all about.

After passing an endless number of doors (some of them so grotesquely feminine he wondered if that idiot mother of Bulma's had anything to do with this), he came up to two that were ajar; one on the left and one on the right. They were colored royal blue and unadorned except for their glistening gold door knobs. The baby's cry was coming from the left. The light that filtered through the gap was solid, warm and bright. The door on the right was dark with intermitting low light seeping through the small opening.

His instincts first told Vegeta to enter the door on the right, but when the crying stopped he felt bound to enter the left door. Prepared, he clasped the handle and pushed the door open. It swung wide and the light engulfed him. First he heard voices.

"My, my. Will you look at that? There was nothing we could do to quiet him." Then in a pacified voice the woman added, "Well, there you go little fellow. Your mommy has you now."

When Vegeta's eyes focused, he was stunned. It was a hospital room. A woman in a white uniform was leaning over the bed, making the patient comfortable before she left. "I believe he has your color, Ms. Briefs."

Bulma frowned, "He may have my color but he definitely has his father's looks." An anxious look crossed her face and she gently rolled the boy onto his stomach and checked his tail end. Her eyes closed and she sighed in relief, "Shoo."

The nurse stepped back and asked, "Shall I bring the father in?"

"Humph," remarked Bulma as she took Trunks back up into her arms. "The boy doesn't have a father as far as I'm concerned."

"Well, that isn't fair to him is it?"

"Fair to who?! Look, nurse. I don't know how long you have been on duty, but in case you haven't noticed, his father is not in this building, probably not even on this planet for that matter. The bastard wants no part of this, and as far as I'm concerned he can just drop--"

"Nah!" spat the newborn. A tiny hesitant fist hit against his mother's breast.

"Ouch!"

The nurse changed the subject. "Oh. He must be hungry. I have to tell you, he's pretty darn strong for an infant. In fact, we draw straws when it comes time to change his diaper."

Bulma smiled down at her baby, "That's my Saiyan Prince."

"Huh?"

Bulma cleared the sentiment from her throat and asked the nurse to find her mom and dad. Then she stared at Trunks, touching his fingers and toes. "Welcome to Earth, Trunks." The baby's natural scowl softened and he reached for his mother's face. The young mother chuckled, "Vegeta said that Saiyan newborns were mentally advanced compared to humans. A warrior's natural instinct…" She thought a moment then gave into the baby's want for feeding.

Trunks sucked hard, causing Bulma to grimace. "So, how is this peace loving mother supposed to raise you?" The baby had eased his nursing and contently watched his mother.

A smile as warm as the sunrise answered Bulma's question and she hummed a lullaby while tears streamed down her face.

Vegeta remained frozen in the doorway, unable to cross the threshold. That blasted lump in his throat was back. He wanted to close the door and yet a part of him wanted to be there. Bulma's past…this was her past, her memory. He put one foot inside and went unnoticed. He took one last look before pulling the door shut. Curse her for making him to feel regret.

The latch was about click when Vegeta heard a capsule explode followed by an infant's gurgle and several admiring ahs. Bulma chuckled proudly and he couldn't help but have a look inside again.

"Well, Dad. He didn't take long to figure out how to open the child safe model. Looks like its back to the drawing board." Bulma slunk to the floor behind Trunks who was eagerly opening all of the presents that were ejected from the capsule. She gathered the wrapping paper as the toddler discarded it. "Woo, Trunks. It's a submarine! And look, a real skipper's hat." She put the hat on the boy's head. "After cake, how about we--" Her voice drifted away when she noticed someone walking towards them. Vegeta's brow narrowed at the intruder. It was the Prince himself. He was dressed in a tee and sweats. Even Vegeta was unsettled with the merciless glare his younger version portrayed. Helpless to alter the memory, he regretfully looked to Bulma, knowing what would happen next.

"You and your pathetic relations have squandered the cub's evolution long enough." The young Prince snatched off the boy's hat and threw training gear in his lap. He refused to look directly at the boy. Instead his cold stare locked onto Bulma. "Dress the boy; his taste of combat starts now."

Bulma protectively pulled Trunks into her arms… 'as if this could stop him.' "Damn it, Vegeta! It's Trunks' birthday party and I'll be damned if you are going to ruin it for him."

The prince's open hand raised and aimed a forming gi ball at Bulma's head. "You will do as I say woman or die."

Reality struck Bulma and her knees gave out. Without saying it, Vegeta showed what little worth she was to him or his son. Why did he wait until the boy's birthday? He was weaned months ago. Her grip tightened and she warned in a low voice, "I won't let you hurt him."

A low growl grew inside of Trunks, disrupting their fight for dominance over the boy. His hair ruffled with energy as he pushed away from his mother's grasp. He stood between them and quietly said, "No, Daddy." Smirking, his father abandoned his attack and watched the child gathered up his father's gift. Then the boy turned to his mother and asked, "Me, can?"

"Can I," corrected his father.

Bulma looked deeply in the boy's eyes and offered, "Its ok, sweetheart. You don't have to do this."

Trunks' smile seemed to make everything alright. He held up the suit and asked, "Help me?"

His mother snatched him up and squeezed, forcing a grimace from the half-saiyan. Though the Prince of Saiyans didn't see any need for her, her son did.

"Feh." The scowling Saiyan turned on his heel and barked over his shoulder as he marched out, "You have five minutes, boy. Then I will see you in the gravity room."

"NO!" Bulma jumped to her feet. "I won't stop you from training our son, but he will not step foot in that blasted gravity room!"

His father whipped around and smirked, "And who in the hell will stop us?" He pointed and laughed, "You?" The present Vegeta smirked. He knew Bulma was about to use one of her trump cards.

Bulma's arms crossed, "I can make it so no one can use it, Vegeta…EVER!"

"Woman, I should kill you were you stand."

"Not if you want your precious gravity room to keep working."

The past Vegeta grunted and warned, "You cannot deny his legacy forever."

Pulling the door closed, the present Vegeta didn't have to see the outcome. In many respects, the compromise benefited them all. It was also the beginning of a truce between parents. He thought of his feelings back then…he had never intended to harm his onna…had he?

Looking into another's memory was folly and should rightfully be shunned. Why was he here? If this is Bulma's mind, he should be looking for her consciousness, and drag her ass back to reality.

Before Vegeta's hand left the doorknob, he heard weeping, and he rolled his eyes. How could he resist? Just once more…

The Prince cracked the door and peered in, this time it was sunlight that forced him to squint and wait for his eyes to adjust. A small boy with violet hair was sitting on the end of the diving board. He hugged his knees and had buried his face in them. Trunks' head shot up and he anxiously looked to the house. Hurriedly, he wiped his eyes and rubbed his nose. His scowl deepened and he stared at the glittering pool water.

"Trunks?" His mother called for him as she stepped out onto the patio.

"Yes, Mommy?" the preschooler asked coolly.

Bulma looked around, "Where did your father go?"

Trunks pointed back to the right of him without looking. The gravity room hummed to life, confirming Vegeta's whereabouts.

"Darn him, another fifteen minutes wouldn't have killed him," mumbled Bulma. Then she called to Trunks, "Come on honey, I have to run to the convenience store. I know! Instead of taking the car, why don't we walk? We can stop at the ice cream shop on the way back." Before she reached the diving board, she knew something was wrong. "Trunks?"

With determination, but unable to face his mother, Trunks asked, "Why can't I go in the gravity room with Daddy?"

"Well-because it's dangerous. It wasn't built with children in mind."

"It's not dangerous for daddy."

"Ha! I can't tell you how many times I've pulled that man out of there barely breathing. If he wasn't Saiyan, I guarantee you he'd be toast."

Trunks body floated up until he could stand and he turned around. His eyes burrowed into his mother commanding that she understood what he would say. "I am half-Saiyan. I will not be toasted."

One side of Bulma's lip curled at how cute Trunks looked at that moment, and then she went grim. It was just matter of time. To his surprise and glee, she solemnly replied, "Alright, Trunks. You can go in."

Excitedly, Trunks pushed off the board and attempted to fly by only to be snatched by the gruff of his shirt. He immediately relented for fear of punishment. After all, mommy knew best. "Not so fast, young man. I'm going with you."

"Ah, Mom?!"

Bulma's brows rose. Was that the first time, Trunks called her mom? She put him on the ground and together they walked to the gravity room as his mother explained, "There will be rules to adhere to while you're in there mister, and I'm going to make certain, you and your father follow them."

"But-but--"

"No buts, young man…"

Vegeta liked that memory. He recalled the "laying of the law" with fond appreciation as he closed the door once more. He leaned against it in thought. The Prince must have been in a very good mood to conform to his onna's wishes; not to mention, it was well rewarded that night. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to see more…

Vegeta heard familiar giggling, and he stood tall, unsure of where it came from. Then Bulma laughed. It was not like the memory version, it was the real thing. His onna was within the cracked door across the hall. The warrior's breath became shallower as he took hold of the knob. Out of respect for the one being he cared most, he thought he might knock first. It would be a first and would warrant a prized expression from his onna. Vegeta smiled, checked his appearance, and raised his back fist to the door. Then he heard others laughing within; recognizing one in particular. "Kuso!" he whispered. It was that pathetic weakling, Yamacha!