The pain was blinding.

It felt as though her legs were being ripped in two. Everything else hurt, but her legs…she tried to move them and screamed.

Okay, Bulma, so that was a bad idea. The blue haired woman clenched her teeth and chided herself, You know better…think, and then act. That's what makes you the brains of this outfit. Think.

She took two cleansing breaths, ignoring the meaningless shouts around her. She needed to think, but Kami, it all hurt so badly. How could she be alive with this pain?

Wait. Her brain caught up with events. Cell. Vegeta. The blast that threw her here. The rocks flying down at her… How can I be alive, period?

Bulma had to know. She opened her eyes, forcing her vision to focus.

Then she saw, and understood with a distinct plummet to her stomach.

Vegeta was standing over her, holding up the entire mountain on his own by the looks of it. His limbs were shaking, his forehead was beaded with sweat. With cries he could not control, he took every blast that Cell lazily tossed in his direction, unable to dodge in any way or Bulma would be crushed.

She looked at Cell and was sickened by that expression. It was as though he was mildly curious or amused at just how much the Saiyan Prince could take. It was evil.

The blue hair, loose from her usual ponytail shook from a combination of pain and rage. She wanted to stand, wanted to help Vegeta. Hadn't she come here to fight and save the very person that was now saving her? But no matter how she tried, her body would not move.

It was her legs. She swallowed down the bile that threatened to come out of her mouth. She had to look down. She just had to force herself to see what was wrong with them.

Bulma managed it, turning just enough to see... to see… Oh…oh, no…

Vegeta was holding up the mountain, but before he had managed to catch it, two sheets of rock and metal had already fallen on Bulma's legs. The only reason she was not dead already was the various tables that had been smashed next to her took some of the pressure off.

But still, she winced. They're definitely done for. I'll be in a wheelchair if I actually manage to make it out of this mess alive.

"You…" Vegeta growled, taking another golden blast from Cell. "Me…and that woman…you…" He ground his teeth. "You knew!"

Bulma nodded, understanding his pain even as she knew her reasons for not telling him. The fact that she knew what was going to happen between them made it so that Vegeta did not have a choice in the matter. It took away the only thing besides his strength that really made life worth living. His agency.

Vegeta snarled in response to her confirmation and took another blow. They didn't have too long left. Bulma could see the Prince's shaking increasing.

As if he sensed their predicament, Vegeta responded in a voice much softer than normal. "What is his name?" Still in a gentle growl, he closed his eyes. "My son. What is his name, woman?"

Bulma couldn't help but smile, despite everything. Even though he would never admit it, Vegeta would be proud to be a father. And given the chance she believed he could learn to be a good one, even if he was a little rough around the edges.

Her eyes rolled from the pain in her legs, but she whispered, "Trunks. "

Just then, a Kamehameha wave hit Vegeta full force and he was knocked down to his hands and knees, the entire mountain resting on his heaving shoulders.

Bulma screamed despite herself, as blood dripped from her mouth. Her legs were compacted, literally compressed. As well as much of the rest of her frail body.

She knew this was the end. Even if Vegeta could have lifted the entire laboratory, her body was crushed, bones piercing lungs and stomach. This was it. Her last few minutes.

Vegeta could sense it too. He had failed, even as he had gained the name of his son.

Bulma looked over to the man she loved and started to force the words out, "Vegeta, I will always love you."

She coughed, knowing this was her last chance to speak to her son as well and forcing her body to go on beyond mortal limits.

"Trunks…he's our son. Tell Trunks…tell him, I love him. Tell him…" She coughed up a spurt of blood and spit it out onto the ground.

She had to let her son know that it was right for him to stay in the past, that happiness was the right path for him and to not grieve. But her body would not allow her. She knew she only had a few words left.

She gasped from the pain, but forced out, "Tell…Trunks…" She struggled for that last breath and got enough, just enough to manage, "Follow…his…heart…"

Bulma was barely aware of anything or anyone. It would all be over in a moment. She could no longer breathe. In some far off world, she felt as her lungs were crushed underneath the weight pinning her chest.

Trunks… she called and her head fell limply to one side as darkness over took everything she knew.