All rights belong to Akira Toriyama, Toyotarou and Toei Animation
This is based on the manga cannon, so there may be some discrepancies with the anime.
Bulma sighed heavily, rubbing her bulging stomach as a foot threatened to burst from her womb. Why had she agreed to have another half saiyan child, again? The one who had originally suggested it, popped the question to a startled Bulma, was absent as usual, training his life away in the gravity room without a care for his wife.
His wife who was due any day now.
She had hoped the upcoming arrival of their baby might have changed him, but there had been little variation in his attitude since she learned that he had moved into the house. He was distant, aloof and completely obsessed with his training. Nothing else held his attention for very long, and even though Bulma had managed to converse with him over the interim months, he clearly did not regard her with the affection he once had.
Bulma didn't have time to worry over his condition now, though. She was occupied with the coming birth. She had the birthing bag packed and ready, nappies stocked and nursery prepared. A new set of drawers in the room was stacked with neutral baby clothes of various sizes, because Bulma could afford not to wait to find out how large her baby was going to be.
It felt gigantic.
Another kick disturbed her thoughts, causing her to lean her head against the book she was reading and moan. She couldn't wait for this whole process to be over with. Couldn't wait to have the baby in her arms. No, scratch that, she considered, remembering the long nights, the constant waking, the ear-shredding crying.
Why had she agreed to this, again?
Bulma…I…I was wondering if…
He had been so hesitant, so cute. That face, with its adorable blush, had been impossible to resist.
If you'd like to have another child with me?
She recalled how she had leapt on him, declaring that absolutely she would, planting kisses all over his handsome face.
Now he was hiding away in his gravity room, a different person altogether, and Bulma was reading psychology books because she had given up on the waiting game. But none of them had any insight in how to best approach someone who had fused themselves with the intangible epitome of evil.
The sections on child soldiers and childhood trauma were helpful – she really should have read about that a long time ago.
But nothing on aliens with Darkness trapped inside them. There really was a gap in the market there.
Trunks was doing better, though, she reflected. Still struggling, wanting nothing to do with his father, but more peaceful when interacting with everyone else. It would bear watching, though, since if Vegeta ever recovered, she wasn't sure Trunks would be willing to give him another chance.
But the lack of temper tantrums and plate-throwing was a bonus, even if he remained awfully silent at the table.
"Are you okay, Mum?" Trunks asked from the doorway as Bulma moaned again, baby moving within her. At least the boy was being considerate of her now.
"I'm fine, Trunks. Just pregnant."
"Yeah…" he looked at the large lump which was her belly, "I can't see the appeal, personally."
"Good thing you're male, then. Not that I want grandchildren anytime soon, mind."
"Yes, Mum."
"Are you ready?" she asked, sitting up and closing the book. Interesting, certainly interesting, but not what she wanted to know. She definitely had not wanted to know, actually. Putting labels to her husband's behaviours, both now and in the past, was unsettling for her. He was so alien most of the time, it didn't make sense for an Earth book to explain so much about him.
"Ready for what?" Trunks asked, instantly suspicious.
"Why, to be a big brother, of course!"
"Oh. I guess." He shrugged.
"I'll be expecting big things from you, you know. I'll need a lot of help around the house, and your father," he frowned at the mention of Vegeta, "is not in a position to lend a hand. So it'll be up to you."
"What about Grandma and Grandpa?"
"They're not as young as they used to be, and I think you could do with some responsibility."
He sighed, "Fine."
Just like his father, except with more of an expression on his face.
She smiled at him as he left, before returning to her book.
Those who experience post-traumatic stress disorder may be easily angered or irritated, and engage in reckless or self-destructive behaviour.
She had always thought that his attitude and actions were just Vegeta being Vegeta, had never considered that there might be something deeper. Post-traumatic stress disorder? It seemed unlikely on the surface but the more she read, the more he kept ticking boxes. She really hoped that wasn't the real diagnosis, though, because it made her guilty to realise that she had been married to him for over a decade and the thought of psychological issues had never occurred to her. It felt like she had let him down, only just discovering this now, when another crisis reared its head. True though it was that psychology was not her forte, she should have investigated more closely a long time ago.
Nightmares are also common among sufferers of PTSD…
Bulma was out in the garden, relaxing underneath the shade of an umbrella when she spotted a few dots in the sky. With most of her friends and family able to fly, Bulma had grown used to picking out humanoid figures in the distance, and could tell the difference between them and birds with practiced ease. The dots were drawing closer at an alarming speed, resolving into three people.
Whis, Beerus, and Goku.
Darn.
She didn't want to think about what having Goku here was going to do to her husband. Even with their agreement, he could still push himself to insane levels if pressed, and seeing Goku again, that much stronger, was going to rub him the wrong way. Badly.
Why were they even coming to her house, anyway?
It couldn't be to visit – Goku didn't bother with that sort of thing. Saiyans tended to forget to do that. They just got caught up in their training, thinking that nothing was happening in the outside world, which was reasonable when in the time chamber but still.
No use being annoyed about it. That's just who they were, what they were.
Bulma sat up as the three touched down in front of her.
"Hey, Bulma! I – woah!" Goku leapt back, eyes focused on the huge beach-ball which was her stomach.
"I believe congratulations are in order," Whis commented.
"So you and Vegeta are having another one, huh?" Goku clarified, "Speaking of, how is Vegeta?" He looked over in the direction of the gravity room, taking in the red glow of the windows.
"Not good, Goku. I'd appreciate it if you could avoid him, actually. I don't want you to upset him."
"Upset him? Vegeta's not a baby, Bulma. I'm just going to say a quick 'hello'. Whis can fill you in."
"Goku!" Bulma protested, but he was gone in a flash.
"Darn it. So, why are you here?"
"We were hoping to use your abode as a 'base of operations' of sorts."
"Oh, gosh," she put her head on her palm, "What have you done now?"
"Goku reminded Lord Zeno of his promise for a multi-universal tournament. We are here to assemble a team to fight for the pride of Universe 7."
"Pride, huh?" she asked, looking over at the gravity room, where Vegeta had answered the door to a persistent Goku.
"Ah, I think it would be best if we leave Vegeta out of the team. It is, after all, a team. And if he is no better, then he will not cooperate well."
Leaving Vegeta out. He would never let them hear the end of it. Miss a fight, as if!
"We're damned lucky it's just pride at stake, and a wish." Beerus groused.
"Huh?"
"Indeed," Whis commented, "You see, originally Lord Zeno planned on erasing the losing universes."
"What?!" Bulma cried, slamming her hands down on the table in front of her.
"Fortunately, he was reminded of the Darkness, that terrible foe he couldn't vanquish. He conceded that he didn't want to set it lose again. The Grand Priest did not say in which Universe it resided."
"Clever," Bulma muttered, as Beerus spoke up
"Lord Zeno kept rubbing his cheek, too. Odd, that."
"Anyhow. We are to assemble a team of ten fighters in a space of only forty hours."
"Only forty hours, huh? That's not long."
"No, indeed. That is why we have chosen Earth as our base, and are going to use Goku's expertise, and yours, if we'll have it, to determine who should be invited."
"I see. Well, I still think you're wrong about Vegeta –"
"Wow!" Goku interrupted, a shocked expression on his face as he floated down to meet them. "That was intense! He was super mad!"
"I did warn you."
"Man, maybe Whis was right! I don't think he wants to be anywhere near me!"
"Of course he doesn't. You remind him of the strength he's lost!" she sighed, climbing to her feet and gesturing for her unwanted guests to follow.
"Let's go inside, and talk about this over some snacks."
"Yes! Snacks!"
A few minutes later the four were gathered in the living room, a large whiteboard obscuring the television.
Pictures of eight combatants were pinned with magnets to the board.
Goku, Piccolo, Krillen, 18, 17, Tien, Master Roshi and Buu.
They just needed two more.
"Are you sure about Gohan, Goku?"
"Hmm…maybe you're right. After all, he can't be much worse than Master Roshi, even if he has lost his training clothes."
"You still have a day to whip him into shape. I know it's not long, but…"
"Okay, good idea. I'll ask Piccolo to train him."
Bulma rubbed her eyes, wondering if her husband would have ever considered fobbing off his child-rearing duties onto the namekian.
"Okay, that leaves one more…" Bulma considered, tapping her chin with her finger as she considered the list. Yamcha? No, definitely not, she dismissed. There had to be someone else stronger than Yamcha. It was a pity the Future Trunks hadn't stuck around. And she really didn't trust the younger version's attitude.
"Well, I'd better let everyone know while we think on that last one," Goku announced, standing up and patting his legs.
"Wait," Bulma halted him, "How do you know they'll agree to it? I mean, what will they gain for participating?"
"Oh, if you win you get a wish."
"Goku, we have –"
"On the super dragon balls."
"The super…" Bulma trailed off, mind on fire as she considered the possibilities. They had dismissed the thought of using the dragon balls to resolve their current difficulties because, as Goku had demonstrated some years ago, wishes required the consent of the affected parties. And she didn't think Vegeta would agree to alter his personality. He didn't seem to see an issue with it.
But the super dragon balls could grant any wish. They would not have such limits.
"Goku…" she whispered, "I want that wish."
"That's the spirit! But you can't fight, Bulma."
"Goku…" she muttered, staring at him, wondering how on Earth he could be so clueless, "We could use it to fix Vegeta."
"Oh!" he slapped his head, "Good idea! He'll be really happy to be strong again!"
"Not the main issue here…" she mumbled darkly, although she had to concede in Vegeta's current state of mind, for him that would be the ultimate problem.
"But will everyone else agree with your wish?" Whis asked.
"I hope so," Bulma replied, thinking that of course Krillen, Gohan and Goku would. The others were a mystery. "But I can provide for those who don't. I have plenty of money, more than I know what to do with, really." She didn't mean to brag, but it was true.
"Okay! That's settled!" Goku announced, "I'll go convince everyone to join, and meet you back here. You can try to think of another team member."
Gohan had been easy to convince, concerned as he was for Vegeta, Bulma and their family. With his help, they had Piccolo on board as well. Both had headed out to train in the remaining time they had left, Gohan clad in his surrogate father's attire, since he still couldn't find his training clothes.
It was weird what Piccolo could do, Goku considered as he headed towards his next destination, Krillen's house. Summoning clothes? Not the most useful battle technique, but it must be handy. Goku had kept losing his weighted clothing whenever he took it off to fight a villain. Chichi had not been impressed.
He still hadn't seen her yet. He would get there after the others had been contacted.
"Goku! Hey!" Krillen's voice called from the speaker as Goku pressed the buzzer to be let in. Krillen's new house was quite snazzy, which was to be expected given his wife's tastes.
"Hey!"
"What's up?" Krillen asked as Goku entered through the door.
"I have a favour to ask, actually."
"A favour, huh?" Krillen gestured for Goku to enter their home. "What is it?"
But Goku was busy staring at a picture of Kame House on the wall, reminding him of those good old days training with Krillen and Master Roshi. He noticed with some sadness that the house was otherwise quite barren and depressingly clean. 18 was certainly one for appearances, so the living room looked more like a display piece than a home.
"Goku? You had a favour to ask?" Krillen prompted, sitting on the coach and patting the space beside him. 18 was playing a board game with Marron on the carpet, and the little girl appeared to be winning, much to Goku's amusement. Still, she hadn't grown.
"I need to talk to both of you." Which got 18's attention, motioning for her child to pause their game.
Goku never really knew how to act with Krillen's wife. She was cold, distant, aloof and … kind of like Vegeta, actually. Only, Goku found Vegeta much easier to deal with. 18? You never knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling, if she was feeling anything. Her crystal gaze was unsettling to say the least.
"You wanted something?" she asked, standing up to regard Goku with that those disturbing eyes. Say what you like about her personality, though, Krillen had picked up a stunner. Or, at least, someone who wasn't Goku would have thought that. Goku didn't notice these things. He only knew that she was strong, and strength was what they needed.
"There's a big tournament coming up, involving eight universes—"
"Eight universes?!" Krillen's eyes bugged
"Yep. We each get ten fighters, and the winner either knocks all the other teams off the platform, or else has the most members left when the time runs out. I was hoping both of you would agree to come."
"I don't know Goku…" Krillen hedged, "I haven't fought in a while. And someone will have to take care of Marron."
"I won't do it unless there's something in it for me. Is there prize money?" 18 asked.
"Um…no. Bulma can pay you, though."
"How much?"
"I'm not sure."
She didn't look very enthusiastic, and neither did Krillen, who shuddered, commenting that it would probably be a frightening affair.
"Look, guys, the winner gets a wish on the super dragon balls and we were going to use it to fix Vegeta."
"Oh," Krillen gave him a sad smile, "Well, I can't let Bulma down can I?"
"I'll go as well," 18 announced, startling them both. Her arms were crossed, face determined, but mysterious.
"What? 18? I thought you didn't like Vegeta." Krillen said.
18 turned away, responding coolly. "I owe him, that's all." In a voice that quelled investigation. Still, Krillen tried anyway.
"What do you—?"
"Leave it!" she hissed. Neither man had the courage to pursue the matter further.
After giving them the details of when and where, Goku left in search of Tien.