Vegeta suspected Gohan was the culprit before he left the hospital the previous night. No one else would have the in-depth knowledge, resources, and – expressly – the motivation to pursue such an effort. Who would know better than a Saiyan what it felt like to be one? Bulma likely realized no one else would have agreed to help, either, considering the ever-present possibility of failure.

Gohan believed he would gain something, the prince thought. Why else would someone with such promise and talent invite disapproval and anger from friends and family – and especially from him? He didn't want to believe that the thoughtful boy he once knew – and fought with - was being untrustworthy on purpose. Had he known about Bulma's pregnancy before they did?

And then there was Goku. As much as Vegeta complained, and as much as the two remained rivals, he considered him more of a brother than his own sibling, Tarble. They stuck by each other. If he severely harmed Gohan – which with him being this angry was probable – a lengthy fight would likely ensue that could harm their relationship beyond repair. Now the prince faced having everything he worked hard to achieve and atone for crumble over an avoidable situation, and that was intolerable. He was the first to say no one owed him anything, but being "good" and self-controlled must count for something. He had lived honorably and taken pride in it. Gohan should've told him about Bulma from the start, full stop.

"Come on," Gohan said, removing his tie. His voice was soothingly encouraging, like he was caring for an agitated patient. "You have no intention of hurting me. You need to know the rest of what happened. If you give me a chance, I would like to explain. I am sorry. It's not like I wanted this. I care for her too."

"Don't tell me you're sorry," Vegeta said as he released his wife's hand. "Just get on with it."

Gohan approached the balcony window to watch birds gather. When he was a teenager, he once told Bulma that their beauty and serenity kept him focused. The following day, she sent him two nightingales from her father's aviary as a gift. She saw the total person. He would never forget that.

"Bulma was already far along with her research by the time she came to me," he continued. "We isolated a sequence from the Saiyan genome that needed a delivery method into her DNA – in this case we used a modified virus. I said no when she first asked for help, but she seemed genuinely hurt. She wanted a longer life span and to share something with you that she truly believes you need – maybe even learn some ways to fight alongside you if the time ever came. It excited her, especially because she's accomplished so much already. Others could eventually step into her research duties. Then she asked what length I would go to if I had a similar chance with Videl – to have more time with her."

Vegeta vowed not to shed tears in front of anyone, especially Gohan, but the words felt like a stake through his chest. He looked down, shaking his head. "Then why didn't she tell me at first?"

Gohan closely studied his reaction. Prodding nicks in the prince's mental armor during this tense time was equal parts dangerous and necessary. He had to be careful, but he kept the long game in mind.

"How many times have you defied Bulma's wishes when you strongly believed in something, Vegeta? But I said from the start to tell you anyway. I asked her several times. I thought it was her responsibility to work it out with you. We really were seeing good results. Then you both learned about the pregnancy…"

Vegeta clenched his fists. "I…I… cannot listen to this anymore."

"I believe I can help Bulma get through this if you let me," Gohan persisted. "It's risky to change course now because her physical transformation is so far along, but…."

Listening to his appeal, Vegeta felt the stirrings of incipient rage and shame that he hadn't experienced in years. Clearing his throat, he licked his lips and faced him.

"Gohan, your daughter has lost one parent… and Kakarot is my friend. They are the sole reasons why I haven't torn you apart. Here are the ground rules: Stay away from my family, permanently. Pan will only see my daughter at my discretion. If my wife and unborn child… die… or suffer from any disability, short of killing you outright, I will do everything in my power to make you forget what good fortune feels like. You will become a pariah among those who now respect you. Your father won't shun you, I'm sure, but I have no doubt that he will be just as disappointed as I am right now. Now get the fuck out my sight."

"Vegeta, I would hope you could forgive me as others did with you, including Bulma. You can blame me all you want, but ultimately your wife made what she believed was the best choice. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself for what happened yesterday, either, which it sounds like you're doing."

Gohan gasped as his head slammed into the wall. Vegeta's thick, sweltering hand encased his throat like a vise, while the other pressed heavily into his chest. The prince leaned next to his ear, wild-eyed and panting, until he could silence the seething voices flooding his mind.

"How does it feel, boy? Bulma can't breathe without help, and now neither can you. I told you not to provoke me. I wish I could say I disliked choking you, but I'm really enjoying it – and your pathetic attempt to guilt trip me demeans you. Besides my wife and son, you are the only person I have ever apologized to for my actions – twice - because I respected you. You aren't telling the whole truth, so do not expect forgiveness for a goddamn thing. I have always manned up to my deeds. You aren't - and so help me, I will discover why."

Gohan grabbed frantically at his throat, legs thrashing, until his eyes rolled backward. Vegeta smiled darkly and dropped him on the floor, stepping on his chest. "You still have an opportunity to tell the truth, doctor. That might make up somewhat for your shameful inability to defend yourself properly in my presence. What a pity."

Sensing their energy levels surge, Goku instantly reappeared in the room. His anger spiked seeing Gohan on the floor, clutching his neck and coughing. Vegeta's eyes slowly raised to meet his.

"What…what happened here?!" he said, bending down next to Gohan. "What did you do, Vegeta?"

"Ask him," he replied flatly. "Maybe he won't lie to his own father by omission, like he just did with me."

Goku stepped forward with his fists clamped. "You need to calm yourself, friend."

"That is not your call," Vegeta said, crossing his arms. "Think twice about giving me any orders before hearing the facts, Kakarot."

All three looked up as the heart monitor alarm next to Bulma went off. Gohan pulled himself up to approach the bed until Vegeta grabbed and pushed him back into Goku's arms.

"Damn it, Vegeta! You have to let me go! Her heart rate and blood pressure are irregular. She may be having complications."

"You have done enough!"

Tights pushed past them with another doctor and nurse following closely behind. "Silence! Get out, all of you!"

Gohan seized her arm. "Tights, listen to me. I think heart enlargement is causing Bulma's blood pressure fluctuation and arrhythmia."

"Fine," she said, following them out of the room. "They're attending to her. Why were you arguing? It's still possible that she can hear you while comatose."

"Something else… is wrong." Vegeta approached the window facing the room's interior. "I can't sense her ki."

Frowning, Tights touched his and Goku's shoulders. "I need you all to listen carefully. My sister could go into cardiac arrest if her heart is growing too fast. The doctor in there now is reviewing chest images and will likely increase her blood pressure medication. Given her current condition, my guess is each transitional stage could overwork vital organ systems. In other words, her body's attempts to 'catch up' could make things harder. We must slow down the process."

Vegeta's eyes shifted to Gohan. "Say something – now."

Gohan's expressionless gaze left Goku feeling uneasy. "Son, why is he so angry with you? Were you… involved with what happened to Bulma?"

"Dad, it's not what you think."

Goku covered his face and sighed. "What am I supposed to think? That sounds like a yes."

"I tried to explaining to Vegeta."

Horrified, Tights grabbed Gohan's lab coat. "Oh my god. You helped her?! How long were you going to sit on this information? What is wrong with you?!"

"Go back in there," Vegeta said, pulling her aside. Gripping the door frame, he turned his back on Gohan and Goku. "He cannot return, Kakarot. Now get him out of here before I finish what I started."

Gohan moved forward. "Vegeta, wait… "

Goku wondered if his son had lost all common sense. Vegeta had always been an unpredictable hornet's nest when enraged. "Just stop talking," he said sharply. "Put your hand on my shoulder so we can leave… and I'm sorry, Vegeta."

"Hn."

Tights hesitantly stopped Vegeta before they returned to Bulma's bedside. "I can't believe this. Did Gohan at least say anything else about helping to treat her?"

"Yes, but he won't come near her again." He turned away, indicating his expectation for total obedience. "You are well-equipped to handle whatever needs to be done - and believe me, I am not finished with Kakarot's son."

Tights had been practicing level-headed answers all day to compassionately manage her brother-in-law's demands, but he looked ready to slaughter. "Look, Vegeta, I'm just as furious, but we need more details about the experimentation. Beating the hell out of Gohan isn't our biggest priority. We can't afford to shun him."

He stared hard at her. This was the worst time for Tights to doubt herself, and he was pissed. "Did I not just make myself clear? This is not a negotiation. Look at my wife. Your only choice is ensuring her recovery. Saiyans do not give in easily - and, by extension, neither will you!"

Bulma screamed for what seemed like an eternity, but this time no one came: not her parents, Vegeta, Tights, Goku, Yamcha, Krillin. She was alone, in a desert, surrounded by red sand dunes. She felt confused and disoriented, as if someone had drugged her. Strange noises ricocheted from within the dreamscape she inhabited, and she had no tools to silence the frightening din. Shimmering electric pulses sparked from her hands, burning through the arid wind. With her back arched, she levitated from the ground with her arms raised. Her hair, now colored gold, stood erect.

"I'm here now, Cress."

"Kaleb?"

Gohan's shadow appeared, stretching a hand in her direction. He scanned the landscape before sending a fireball crashing to the ground. Then he held her from behind, lifting her hands. Trying to relieve the cloudiness infecting her mind, she shook her head.

"No, Kaleb."

"You must," he insisted. "You chose this."

Her eyes felt heavier as her body warmed within his embrace. She looked forward, smiling. "I chose this."

Vegeta's image suddenly appeared on the ground where she fired. The blasts violently ripped through his chest until he stumbled and fell, choking on his blood. Recognizing her terrible mistake, Bulma broke from Gohan's grasp and flew next to her husband, shrieking and crying hysterically.

Gohan soon landed beside her, calmly observing the results. As Vegeta lay dying, he walked past them and vanished. She held her partner's hand, sobbing, until his eyes opened.

"Stop crying," he murmured. "I love you. You know that."

She wiped her face and nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I know, Bulma. I know. Use your power wisely."

As her husband's body dissolved into dust, her rational mind recognized the absurdity of the experience. She was dreaming, but the nightmare repeated with the same ending. She couldn't control the outcome no matter how hard she tried, and the stress was shattering her spirit from the inside out.

Gohan had been influenced his entire life by extraordinary mortals whose strength and bravery matched their egos and idiosyncrasies. When he was a child, they inured him to fighting out of necessity. Becoming a true warrior was the next step, because they recognized his potential to surpass them all. Years later, he believed that Goku and Vegeta still secretly hoped for his ultimate ascension to secure their legacies as Saiyans. Piccolo, the mystic Namekian who trained him, eventually forced them to accept his adolescent reluctance to assume that role. And yet, deep down, Gohan suspected his former mentor, too, would've been just as pleased if he had chosen otherwise.

Ironically, Vegeta had been the most disappointed: the proud Saiyan warrior who wouldn't rest until his talents matched Goku's; the former egotist who once called Gohan a "half breed," defiantly, until he had a child of his own; the intense strategist who offered scorchingly blunt and, often, wise advice when called upon; and one who, as he matured, quietly looked out for him. Their heritage loomed large, and Gohan had finally vanquished his indecision about his role. He felt confident about the nascent resurrection of the true Prince of all Saiyans, reclaiming his destiny to rule, with Bulma as the motivator. The story was writing itself. She was Vegeta's greatest strength and weakness.

Goku struggled to understand his son's behavior as they faced each other outside of Hercule's estate. From the time they left the hospital, it dawned on him that Gohan may have been sorry for what happened to Bulma but didn't regret helping her. The lack of remorse appalled him.

"They have children, just like you do! Did you stop once to think about that, Gohan? How could you agree to help Bulma put her life in danger?"

Gohan threw up his hands."Oh, please. You have some nerve lecturing me about endangering anyone. Neither you nor Vegeta have a leg to stand on that subject. Maybe you should consider my part in this differently."

Agitated, Goku rubbed his fist. "Well, what?"

Wondering if he should continue, Gohan jammed his hands into his pockets. His father had already made up his mind. Good and bad. Black and white. Although his mother Chi-Chi had been rightfully accused of using this two-way, restrictive thinking to raise her sons, Goku had his moments as well.

"Bulma and Vegeta are equals in ways you and mom will never be. From the beginning, her creativity and hard work helped you reach your goals. Same with Vegeta, but at least he doesn't take her for granted anymore like you. She has given of herself tirelessly, and now she's entering the next phase of her journey, desiring to strengthen their bond. She's very sick and I want to help treat her, but I can't support any attempt to reverse her transformation. It would be too unsafe, especially with her pregnancy, and it's not what she would want. Before he choked me, I pushed Vegeta to think rationally and stop resisting change. Until he comes around, maybe I can convince Tights to let me help privately."

It was difficult, but Goku overlooked the insults lobbed at him. "Absolutely not, Gohan. I agree with Vegeta. You have done enough. Continuing to anger him risks your welfare, which would force me to step in. That's unfair and disrespectful to all of us."

"Well, dad, you won't convince me to do or believe anything differently."

Gohan tried not to ridicule his father's appeal to "fairness." He had come to believe as Vegeta once did: that fairness could be one-sided. Seeking to safeguard their dominance, some people used the word manipulatively to impose their will on those with less power. It's only fair that you see our side of things. It's the best decision. It will help you. It's only fair. It's only fair.

Bullshit.

Sensing his son's impatience, Goku decided to leave, even though he didn't want to. "You know, Gohan, I was up all night supporting a grieving family – our friends - and I'm tired now. We can talk later, when you're up to it. Since you're so committed to your beliefs, I'll leave it you to tell Pan why she won't see Bulla now. And be sure to tell my granddaughter the whole truth - because if you don't, I will."

Gohan kicked the spot on the ground where his father disappeared. A grin emerged on his face as a ghost-like image of himself hovered nearby, laughing derisively.

He was laughing.

"You're a fool."

Trunks found Vegeta asleep in a recliner next to Bulma's bed later that evening. Hearing from Tights about Gohan's involvement had left him reeling and angry, but he also worried about the tremendous pressure on her to find solutions. It could take months, and she hadn't yet told Vegeta about the risk of Bulma developing cancer if a different experimental gene-therapy regimen failed. In a little more than twenty-four hours, it seemed like each change in Bulma's condition was intended to disappoint them - and, like his father, Trunks also couldn't sense her ki.

At first he reconsidered bringing Bulla with him to the hospital, but she was more reserved than he expected. She hugged his waist as they quietly observed their mother, attempting to comfort him instead. Then she crawled into Vegeta's lap. He grunted softly and folded his arms around her.

"What… time is it, princess?" he said drowsily.

"Around seven, papa."

Vegeta looked up at Trunks. "You should not have let me sleep this long."

"There was no reason to wake you," he said, removing his jacket. "I was here earlier before picking up Bulla, after you met with the medical team. Aunt Tights updated me."

Vegeta raised his eyebrow, clearly signaling concern about what Bulla knew. He tapped her elbow. "Are you afraid? Do you want to discuss what you're seeing here with your mother?"

"No," she said, looking plaintively at Bulma. "Trunks helped me understand what happened to mommy. I just don't want you to be afraid, papa. You look so sad."

"I… am fine, princess. Your papa has dealt with a lot of pain, so you don't need to protect me. However, I expect you to talk with me or your brother if you're upset or confused about anything."

She nodded, taking another long look at her mother. "Do you mind if I find aunt Tights now?"

"Go ahead."

Trunks and Vegeta had been thinking similarly as they watched her leave. They entered the connected room to speak freely.

"I think she's angry."

Vegeta nodded at him. "I know she is. She's too calm, and she barely acknowledged your mother. What did you say?"

"I told her the truth, leaving out the part about Gohan for now, and I said we won't know everything about mom's reasoning until she wakes up. I left the door open for you to explain if she… doesn't."

"Very good."

Hoping to continue their relaxed conversation, Trunks grasped his father's shoulder. "So, um, can you try to hear me out about mom's care?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He abruptly pulled away. "No."

"Papa, look, I'm uncomfortable with it too, but Gohan does know more. We can all keep close watch over him. Even though she's upset, Tights doesn't believe he's trying to hurt mom."

"I said no, Trunks! Your collusion with your aunt to manage my choices ends now - and quickly disabuse yourself of the idea that I may act irrationally, because I am sick of hearing it. Tights was the first person Gohan saw, and yet he waited to tell her. Don't you think that's odd?"

"Code blue. Medical staff please report! Code blue. Medical staff please report!"

"Code blue?" Trunks ran to the door as a high-pitched wail blared around them. "Mom's heart stopped! She's flatlined!"

They stood by helplessly while the team worked to resuscitate her. Bulla hung back at the entrance, staring blankly, while Tights hurried in to watch and advise everyone. Feeling ashamed of her mother, the girl refused to cry.