Chapter 13 – With A Landslide Approaching
Training through it was…
She couldn't believe she was going to admit Vegeta was right, but… Gods, he may have actually been right. What was happening to the world?
Seven hours. Without break. Three of them were spent training with Chi-Chi and almost pushing herself to the brink, though not quite there yet. Then she'd spent a couple of hours alone until Bulma could barely stand but still, it wasn't enough to really push her over that edge. Shockingly, it was training to channel and manipulate her ki that caused the much needed breakdown that bathed her in clarity and sweet, sweet relief once it was over.
Bulma breathed out a shaky, allayed laugh as she lay there boneless on the floor of the training room. She was fucking exhausted and loved every minute of it. That restlessness was subdued by the physical training, but more importantly, the suffocating torturous sensation of being trapped was alleviated through the intense training of trying to meditate and control her ki.
Everything hurt, but the dark cloud that was looming over her was gone.
Now she just had to figure out how to drag her ass to the bathroom for a much needed shower, though Bulma decided she wasn't in too great a rush. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and groaned at the sharp, somehow weirdly pleasurable pains that wracked her body every time she attempted to move.
It felt magnificent.
Even the sounds of the doors sweeping open with a warning whoosh couldn't bring Bulma out of her lifted mood. At that time of the evening the only person it could realistically be was Vegeta, but even while knowing that, she remained happy and peaceful and refused to acknowledge the intruder.
She stretched her tired limbs determinedly just to feel those satisfying pops and cracks and finally managed to sit herself up, eyes opening. Rather than find Vegeta in her face or sneering in her direction, however, she spotted him training on the other side of the room without a fuss. Nothing major, from the looks of things. Just simple drills to keep himself in top form.
"Thank you for the advice," Bulma called out after several moments of consideration. "I… actually really needed that."
He didn't break his rhythm once. Never even looked her way while continuing his one armed push ups, the other folded behind his back. Dark eyes were fixated on the tiled floor and his expression was the same scowl she always saw him wearing, and it was by his fourth time reaching the ground since she spoke that Bulma realised she wouldn't be receiving any response – not that it really mattered. She knew his royal highness was a stuck up jerk, so his ignorance didn't come as any surprise to her.
Bulma turned onto her hands and knees and grimaced while attempting to stand, the once pleasurable aches steadily worsening now that she was seriously trying to move. She wondered idly if that happened to be the real reason why Vegeta basically lived in the training room, simply because he was in too much pain to leave after his training. That or too proud to allow anyone to see him in such agony.
Unable to move any further, she fell back onto her haunches and dropped her head back to stare up at the plain white ceiling until the bright white lights threatened to blind her. It was only then that Bulma shut her eyes with a tired sigh. There was a small temptation swirling in her mind of perhaps sneaking half a Senzu Bean despite knowing it would be wrong, but she fought against it. If she persevered, the pain could make her stronger… right?
"What's the matter?" came Vegeta's snarky words, startling her out of her momentary reprieve. "Too weak to leave, Little Human?"
"I'm certainly not sticking around to enjoy your delightful company, Stupid Saiyan."
Rolling her eyes in her turning her attention onto him, Bulma snorted at the raging testosterone that had to be the cause of his cocky display. He was in the process of performing a handstand – no, not even a handstand, since Vegeta's entire bodyweight was being supported by just a single finger. Just as fluidly as his previous push ups, he continued on his finger, raising a challenging eyebrow her way when she dared to show how unimpressed she was.
"What are you, a peacock?" she shot at him, scoffing. "Stop showing off before you hurt yourself."
If she focused hard enough, Bulma was able to sense that his ki was at total ease, though it was definitely difficult looking passed just how immense it was. That was one of Gohan's first teachings: remaining calm when facing stronger opponents.
Becoming overwhelmed was ridiculously easy when sensing that the other person was thrice as strong as she was. Although Bulma didn't have much to really sense to begin with, she found herself struggling with Vegeta's ki in particular. It was just so… vast. Not necessarily that he had so much at his disposal – no, it felt too dark for that. When she'd approached Gohan with such thoughts, he explained that sometimes, it was possible to feel another's intentions or even their emotions depending how in tune they were.
"What the hell are you blabbering on about this time?"
His ki almost reminded Bulma of his eyes. Like they had so much to share, so much to express, if he allowed them to. Alas, he didn't. So all they saw was cold, empty darkness. Anything else was buried beneath it with no hopes of being found unless they somehow managed to pierce through that darkness.
Like hell that was her problem, though.
If he wanted to be all dark and mysterious and to keep them all at arm's length, then that was perfectly okay. In fact, it was more than okay. She wanted nothing to do with the murderous son of a bitch who'd quite literally crushed and trampled on her friends. So, the harder he tried to keep his distance, the better. For all their sakes.
"Forget it," Bulma groaned. She would have thrown her hands up to properly convey her agitation, but she was in too much pain, so she had to settle on hoping Vegeta took note of her expression as it scrunched up at him instead. "Why are you in here so late? I thought you hit a block."
"We can't all sit around twiddling our thumbs," he spat, lowering himself once more. It was as he pushed back up that he added cruelly, "Some of us plan on bettering ourselves rather than moping around like a girl."
Like a…
"I am a girl, asshat," Bulma snapped in exasperation.
Vegeta snorted.
Grumbling under her breath about Vegeta being a major pain in her ass, she struggled onto her feet unsteadily though took a few extra beats to try and prepare herself for leaving. The walk to her bedroom wasn't all that treacherous, however the ladder was going to be a difficult opponent that was for sure. Bulma hadn't considered the upper body strength required to return to her room and now just the thought made her want to scream with frustration.
Holy shit, the pain was intense.
But still absolutely worth it, Bulma reminded herself. That dark cloud remained out of sight, and she was determined to keep it that way, no matter how many levels of hell she had to put herself through. Maybe if she got lucky, she would become strong along the way, however her main objective was to drag herself out of depression's clutches.
And so Bulma fought through it, ignoring Vegeta's mocking laughter as she limped her ass out of the training room, even when she was fairly certain she could hear him all the way to her bedroom.
She was ridiculous for viewing it as such and she knew it was potentially toxic, but damn if his mocking her wasn't motivating as hell.
Sensing ki was growing easier by the day and she no longer required her scouter to find the others around the ship. Just as it always had been, Vegeta's ki was the easiest to detect and his dwarfed Chi-Chi's, so Bulma dreaded to think where her own stood against his.
They were due to land on the planet that possessed a hostility rate of just fourteen percent in a few days' time, and when she said Vegeta was a nightmare, she was actually downplaying just how unbearable he became. He was a major pain in her ass for the entirety of the travel – nearly two whole weeks of his harassing her. Make me this, Little Human. Stop being so weak, Little Human. Let's fuck, Little Human.
That was what made him most unbearable, Bulma thought. His blatant coming onto her and her inability – no, her not entirely wanting – to push him away. Sometimes when they were at each other's throats, it felt like it was inevitable. Like they were destined to piss each other off for all of eternity and it only made sense for them to explore just how intense it could get between them.
Cabin fever was completely real and Bulma was certain that was her current state. While she'd learned to adjust to the suffocating restlessness, apparently there was no swerving the mental instability. That was all Vegeta and their mutual attraction was to her. A symptom of her going stir crazy.
Bulma cursed herself for her attention being drawn to the pain in her ass yet again, insides clenching ridiculously at the sight of him. She was being downright stupid since all he was doing was eating, of all things. How the hell could a stupid Saiyan eating look sexy? Why the hell couldn't she look away from those bulging muscles that she just wanted to–
Vegeta's knowing smirk had her growling under her breath and finally managing to look away.
Maybe her next invention should be a vibrator?
It was a must, Bulma decided resolutely, jaw clenching. Hell would freeze over before she ever gifted Vegeta with a space in her bed. He didn't deserve that side of herself – never would, as far as she was concerned. Nothing would make up for all that he'd done to her friends and planet.
Hold onto your resolve, she reminded herself fiercely.
"This planet," Chi-Chi started and Bulma knew – oh she just knew – that the brunette was catching onto her thoughts, because her words had an extra layer of stress to them. It was like she was furiously reminding them of her presence at the dinner table and in the process, confusing poor Gohan as he looked between the two women with a frown, unsure as to what he'd missed. "How likely are we to run into trouble?"
The question was directed at her, but Vegeta was the one who answered. Snorting, he muttered, "That all depends on whether you can keep your mouth shut for once."
"You–"
"What that Stupid Saiyan is trying to say–" Bulma interject with a twitching eyebrow, "–is that if we keep our heads down, we should be fine."
They had a tediously long way to go before Vegeta and Chi-Chi would ever be able to see eye-to-eye – or, at the very least, able to withstand being in the same room as one another for longer than thirty minutes at a time, if that. Bulma didn't have her hopes up, though. Chi-Chi was impressive with her ability to hold onto grudges, and she had absolutely no intentions of stepping in or attempting to butter her up. It wasn't her place to tell Chi-Chi to get over all that Vegeta had done simply for an easier life, not when she herself couldn't.
"Notes on the system say that because it's such a small planet with a low hostility rate, Frieza never really saw any reason to keep his eye on them. The last recorded statistics are a couple of years old but shows that the planet only has a population of around one million." Pausing in her speaking so that the news could sink in for them, Bulma took the opportunity to sip her water, only continuing once the glass was returned to the table. "Even then, they don't come close to the strength of Gohan and Vegeta."
"Obviously."
She rolled her eyes at Vegeta's predictably arrogant response. "Still, quantity can oftentimes trump quality, especially if it's over a hundred thousand to two. So we should still keep our heads down."
"Agreed," Chi-Chi spoke up before Vegeta had the chance to even think of a response. Sparing a split second glance to her son, she added, "I get this is our chance to lift the restrictions on training, but we're completely out of their league–"
"Speak for yourself–"
"I am," she snarled, grip tightening on her chopsticks like she wanted to hurtle them at Vegeta's head. "I get that you're powerful enough to hold your own. I accept that Gohan's up there too. But we're just humans and I'll be damned if I leave my son alone in a world like this."
Like she would ever allow for that to happen. No matter what, Chi-Chi and Gohan were going to survive. They were going to overcome all the bullshit. She would make damn sure of it.
Plans were put in place for their survival already, starting with Gohan's training in engineering. Bulma's next move was to create emergency supplies including ships of some kind – if she managed to get her hands on them, that was. If not, it wasn't anything major, because Gohan would soon know how to pilot the ship they were currently using. Even while tricky due to the sheer size of it, she knew it was doable. That kid's intelligence was remarkable.
"There's more armour in storage," she alerted the other two, returning to her meal. "It won't look good to the natives if they recognise it, but as a precaution, I want us to wear it."
"Deal."
"Yes, Miss Bulma."
Nodding in thanks to their understanding and lack of arguments, she filled them all in on the smaller details of their trip to the planet. For the most part, they appeared fine with the plans she and Vegeta had admittedly made without their input (which she hadn't felt entirely great about, but knew was necessary due to Chi-Chi disagreeing with most of what Vegeta had to say), though she noticed the way the brunette's eyes narrowed suspiciously when she mentioned Vegeta was in charge during their time there.
It only made sense, though. Bulma had no battle experience whatsoever and most importantly, he was used to visiting potentially hostile planets on the regular and knew how to captain a group. They needed someone who knew what the hell they were doing in charge. They needed his survival instincts and sharpened senses to lead them.
"Don't get too excited about it," Bulma warned him once Chi-Chi and Gohan left to resume the latter's studying. "I don't work for others – they work for me."
"We'll see about that," he scoffed.
Yes, they would.
As he'd taken to doing so now that he'd hit a wall in his training, Vegeta lingered as she made her way to her lab, still waiting for her to make good on her promise to fix the settings of his restraints – it wasn't that she'd forgotten, because she hadn't. She'd simply yet to claw in the composure and courage needed to perform such a risky task. There truly was no other way to work on the mechanisms of it without completely shutting it down and like the realist she was, Bulma refused to ignore the potential outcomes.
Aside from the surprisingly decent advice he had given her, Vegeta had yet to prove he wasn't working against them or merely biding his time. They didn't even have the safety net of their old ship's voice command to fall back on and he was familiar with Frieza's system and ships.
However, that was where the realist in Bulma put their two cents in and had her questioning everything. If Vegeta really did want to escape and return to whatever tragic life he previously lived, then why not just kill them and be done with it? The controls still worked for his restraints for it would be suspicious as hell if they suddenly stopped and finding them wouldn't exactly be impossible for him.
That was when Bulma reminded herself about his raging need for revenge. Chances were, they were a means to an end for him just as he was them. As soon as he had his opening to Goku, Vegeta would lunge. What better way to harm a pure hearted man than to go after his family and friends?
For now, they were safe. As sick as she felt accepting the dark reality of their importance to Vegeta, Bulma wasn't a fool and wouldn't overlook it. He was humouring her by remaining in his restraints.
Still, she was only human. Even while knowing the facts, Bulma was afraid of the what ifs that ran through her mind.
"When?" was all he asked when they made it to her lab, just as he did every day.
She had to admire his persistence a little, despite hating his reactions to her never changing responses of, "Soon."
But there was no anger like the past two weeks. No frustration. Admittedly, that made her a little skittish and Bulma ducked her head while sitting at her table. However, not even being surrounded by potentially dangerous weapons brought her any comfort and she was left to question herself all over again when his gaze bore into her.
There was no more "well, on the one hand" nonsense going on, because whichever decision she went with, there was the chance of being killed.
So what did she do?
"You can't keep stalling forever," he muttered.
Lamely, all Bulma could reply with was, "I know."
Her eyes were drawn to the large hands that came down onto her desk with unnerving calmness, and she swallowed at the protruding veins decorating them and his forearms, attention slow in its journey to his features. But there was no telling if he appreciated her damning impulses because the seriousness in Vegeta's eyes was unmoving. Unlike every other time they clashed with such potent tension between them, he appeared unaffected.
It made her wonder whether all those advances were solely down to knowing how weak she really was. After all, Vegeta was a noteworthy strategist and observant as hell. How was she to know if he was merely taking advantage of her loneliness?
"You're right to be afraid," came his cold admittance. "Though keep in mind that the longer I am bound by these chains, the more aggravated I become over your inability to fulfil your end of the deal."
Her end of the deal? In their original deal, she'd specifically told him that he wouldn't be freed until Earth was. Shit, Bulma hoped and prayed that there hadn't been a mistranslation of some kind – it was precisely why she and her father ensured to have everything written down and signed in all their endeavours. To prevent miscommunication or to have the other person turn around and feign ignorance.
The clearing of her throat wasn't done out of fear, but there was no denying she was a little nervous and regrettably, she allowed it to show in her minute frown. "You'd be free the day Earth is free. That was our deal."
"How am I supposed to free your backwards planet when I am continuously drained of my ki? Are you attempting to nullify our deal?"
Oh? So he was coming at her from a business standpoint? That was certainly different from his usually brutish approach and Bulma had to admit that she appreciated the change. She didn't feel half as vulnerable or helpless.
"Of course not," she responded simply and brought her hands together on the desk. "There's nothing I want more than for Earth to be free – I wouldn't risk jeopardising that."
"Then explain your reservations."
Did they really need explaining? After all he'd done? Gods, she dreaded to think of how dark Vegeta's world really was for him to think nothing of terrorising Earth or killing one of the last of his borderline extinct race. Only a fool would outright trust him. There was too much that he could hate them for or want revenge for, for Bulma to ever feel like she could trust him. Ever.
"You have no loyalties to us. No reasons to go through with this deal without us having some type of hold over you," Bulma started to list off the reasons, eyebrow raising when his hands clenched into fists on the desk. "You have a ship you know how to pilot and months' worth of supplies to sustain you. You're able to land on the majority of the planets around us and know you can hold your own against the natives there." She knew she'd made her point at the sight of his jaw clenching repeatedly and he pressed away from the desk with a low growl. "Tell me that you haven't considered it. Tell me you haven't thought about killing us."
He didn't utter a word.
The silence sickened her.
In that moment, she could only see Gohan's childish features contorted in anguish and fear. She envisioned him fighting desperately to save them – the only one out of their trio with a semblance of a chance of going against Vegeta. Ultimately, he would fail. Gohan didn't have a dark heart. Like his father, he would never want to kill another living being.
She would do all that was in her power to prevent that.
"That is why I'm hesitant to remove the restraints even for something as simple as tweaking the settings. Who's to say you won't strike the moment they're off? How will I know for sure that I'll even be able to put them back on?" Standing from her seated position, Bulma held his cold glare steadily, ensuring her expression was nothing more than cool composure. She would not lose her head or be forced to back down. "I can't risk the lives of Gohan and Chi-Chi. I won't. I refuse."
"Even if it voids our deal."
She fought against the furrowing of her brow.
Slowly turning to fully face her once more, Vegeta seemingly towered over her despite only being a few inches taller, the darkness of his ki somehow leaking into the air around them and threatening to snuff the life out of her. Hiding that effect was damn near impossible and Bulma commended herself on continuing to stand tall, head gradually dipping.
"With our deal nullified, what is to stop me from killing you here and now?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"I told you already," she warned coolly, struggling to ignore the horrendous pounding of her heart. The shaking of her hands was only controlled by her grabbed the edge of her desk with an unyielding grip. "I don't like causing harm, but I will if left with no other option."
Reaching out without breaking eye contact, Bulma retrieved the controller and set it down dead centre of the desk.
"This isn't like our normal spats," she reminded him seriously and squared her shoulders. "I'm not going to back down even if I'm scared. Back me into a corner and I will fight back with everything and anything that I have, no matter how dirty I have to get."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed.
"Choose wisely," she advised. "I won't offer second chances."
A/N - Sorry for the silence, everyone! I've been in and out of hospital this past month (or is it two? I can't even remember) severely sick, but I'm hoping this is me finally getting a handle on that. Fingers crossed anyways because I've missed writing so much!
Thank you all for your patience! It's massively appreciated!
