Love In Season

Ch. 19

Vegeta stretched his arms and stifled a yawn as he lifted himself from bed. He glanced out the ship's window. The silent vastness of space had done little to ease him. Instead, the quiet unsettled him and pushed his mind to thoughts of a lavender-haired prince. A rare smile escaped as he mused of his young royalty loudly slurping ramen or sporting a marinara mustache as he laughed about the day. Vegeta sighed again. Perhaps he should return their messages. It had been a few weeks and certainly cooler heads could prevail now. Unconsciously Vegeta's hand gripped the leather of Trunk's necklace and he untucked it from his suit. He rolled the necklace in his hand and sighed for the third time. He missed them more than he would ever admit. The metal door slid open and Tarble poked his head in the Saiyan's bedroom.

"Glad to see you're up, Brother! I have just secured the final provisions for Planet Vegeta and they are being shipped to Father. Those capsules you gave me are amazing; I never knew such a small device could carry so much!" Tarble beamed.

"They're Bulma's, her family's invention," Vegeta mumbled.

"Ah," Tarble smiled knowingly.

Vegeta gave his brother a weak glare and grunted. He pushed past his brother and sat at the cockpit of his ship. Unperturbed, Tarble followed behind him. Tarble's curious eyes fell to the necklace and he smiled. Vegeta had never been a talkative or open man, but the weeks Tarble had spent with him had been illuminating. His brother, the crown prince, the Saiyan Elite, the hero, was a lovesick family man, even if he didn't know it yet. Without a word, Vegeta made his way to a large window overlooking Earth, leaning against the thick glass. For the past few days, the two Saiyans had been just outside Earth's gravitational pull, watching over the blue orb. Tarble watched his brother.

'I thought we would have landed by now. Is he possibly nervous about going back to Earth?'

Tarble opened his mouth to speak, but stopped at the trill of his scouter lighting up. His message appeared over his eye and Tarble chuckled. Vegeta casted the man a side glance.

"What's so funny over there?" the crown prince asked.

Tarble quieted down and gave his brother a sheepish grin, "I have something to admit. I haven't been completely honest with you. I suppose I was a little self-conscious of how you would take the news."

Vegeta pushed his weight off the window glass, glowering at Tarble, "And what dear brother have you been lying about to me?"

Tarble held up his hands in defense, "It's not as nefarious as you may think, Brother."

Tarble materialized an image from his scouter. A picture appeared of a short, black-eyed alien. The alien seemed plain, resembling a round pale radish, but wore a pleasant smile. Vegeta's anger gave way to irritated confusion as his glance shifted from Tarble to the picture.

"What am I looking at here? What is that thing?"

Tarble flinched at his brother's cold tone, but spoke, "I have a confession, Vegeta. I have a family as well. I have a wife named Gure, actually. This is her."

"Oh. Oh! She's…uh lovely, I'm sure," Vegeta amended with pink strained cheeks.

Tarble shook his head, planting his soft gaze on Gure's image, "My mate isn't as traditionally beautiful as yours I know, but she's kind and smart and yes, very lovely."

Vegeta studied the image a moment longer. He thought of Bulma reluctantly. The more he tried to hate her for her actions, the more futile it felt. It just made no sense. He turned every angle in his head to reveal the Earthling as an enemy and someone he couldn't afford to trust, but none of the possible motives made sense. That left him with a cold reality Vegeta was not ready to face: Bulma lied to him because she was scared of him.

"Is she good to you? You care for her?" Vegeta asked before he could stop himself.

Tarble looked at his brother thoughtfully and smiled before nodding. Vegeta crossed the room to retrieve a drink. He pulled a beer from the refrigerator and tossed one to Tarble. Tarble took the drink gratefully and spoke.

"Even though you two aren't seeing eye to eye currently, I know your mate and son care greatly for you."

Vegeta scoffed, "I told you already. I don't care what they think of me. I don't care at all! Besides, Bulma isn't my mate."

"But you want her to be, don't you? That's why you spent years looking for her," Tarble answered, steeling his voice against his brother's ire.

Vegeta reddened and sputtered, "I didn't tell you that to throw it in my face!"

Tarble chuckled at the reaction, "It's the truth though. Even when you talk about her, you fluctuate between being angry with her to defending her. I'm sure you won't feel so conflicted if you spoke to her. You haven't even told your family that you're back on Earth, have you?"

"There was no need. I never told them I left."

Tarble sighed and the ship fell into a silence. He watched the clouds ripple and gather on Earth's atmosphere. Tarble shifted his focus to Vegeta. Vegeta caught his glance and Tarble averted his eyes with an embarrassed blush. A groan escaped the older brother's lips.

"Just out with it, Tarble. You're staring out the window like some pouting child."

Tarble turned, fingers fidgeting within his white gloves, "Vegeta? Do you- do you think I'm strong enough now? Do you think Father will accept me and welcome me home?"

Vegeta sneered, "That is why you are training? He would as soon have had you killed if it weren't for me. You breathing today is an insult to him, Tarble. I would quit wasting years worrying about his opinion of you or looking for his affection."

"You say that, but you still do it!" Tarble retorted hotly, "You became a slave for him. You fought his battles, killed for him and now you won't even be honest with the King about your own child and mate."

"Leave them out of this and watch your mouth, Tarble. Don't think just because you raised your power level that you are any match for me. I will still kick your ass to whatever backwater planet Father left you," Vegeta warned as his scouter began to signal a message.

He lifted his hand to dismiss the message when his mouth thinned to a fine line. Tarble quieted, watching as his brother read. Vegeta dismissed the message and walked away. Tarble followed.

"What is it? Something wrong?"

Vegeta walked to the ship's control, plugging in the coordinates to land. He strapped himself in and motioned for Tarble to do the same. Tarble ran to his seat as the ship moved toward the blue planet.

"It's Trunks's school. He's in trouble so we're landing."

Tarble fought a smile and mumbled, "So much for not caring, huh?"

Vegeta threw a light ki blast at Tarble's shoulder, "Shut up."

Vegeta stormed into the principal's office. The principal jumped from his seat and turned to the receptionist. The receptionist mouthed an apology and shrugged. Vegeta looked over the room before his eyes rested on Trunks.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" the young Saiyan asked.

Vegeta wore a tight frown, taking inventory of the two boy's injuries. The older boy was visibly shaken and littered with bruises and a black eye. Trunks looked better with scratches and only a little swelling on his cheek. After a quick glance, Trunks refused to meet Vegeta's eyes. He slumped in his seat even lower.

Vegeta cleared his throat, "What happened? I received a message that Trunks was in trouble. What sort of danger?"

"You're Prince Vegeta!" Turles exclaimed, staggering out his seat to give a quick bow of respect.

Vegeta gave the bully a passing glance, waiting for the principal to speak. The stocky, older man ran his fingers through his balding scalp before adjusting his glasses. He stood from his chair and extended his hand to shake Vegeta's hand. Vegeta looked down and gripped the man's hand, nearly crushing it with a firm shake. The principal yelped and cradled his hand. Vegeta smirked and took an empty seat next to Trunks.

"Mr. Vegeta, it's nice to meet you," the principal began carefully, "Trunks is not in that kind of trouble. Trunks was in a fight and badly injured another student. He's facing at least three days suspension."

"For sparring?" Vegeta fired back.

The principal shrunk back and dotted the beads of forehead sweat away with his handkerchief. He glanced at his phone and email. He'd really hoped Bulma had seen the messages to respond. Though just as fiery, she lacked the same propensity of violence Trunks's other contact seemed to exhibit. Seeing no saving message, the principal steeled his nerves and continued.

"Um, well yes. It's against our school policy," the meek man responded.

"Then how do you expect them to come to a truce?" Vegeta scoffed, muttering a line about weak leaders.

Vegeta turned and laid a hand on Trunks's shoulder, but the boy jerked away from him with a sour pout. Vegeta stood and pulled Trunks off the chair and to a corner of the room. Arms crossed and scowl in place, Vegeta waited. Trunks hated that tactic. He could never stop himself from shaking or crying when Vegeta gave him that stern expression. Vegeta could smell the tears forming and hear his son's hiccups as he tried to form the words. He didn't want Trunks to look weak, though he knew the boy was far from it. It was too much of a risk to display any emotion in front of the other Saiyan. Vegeta walked around and shielded the others' vision of Trunks. Vegeta's aura misted around the boy, calming him slightly. Turles stiffened up, watching the interaction curiously. He'd felt a shift in the prince's ki and was shocked to feel something so gentle come from Prince Vegeta. It was so unSaiyan-like to reveal such a trait, yet a pang of jealousy shot through Turles as he watched them.

"Ok Trunks. Tell me what happened."

An anger reignited in Trunks and he spat, "It's not fair. The other boy started it, but I'm the only one getting in trouble."

The principal interjected, "Trunks, I explained it before. You're honestly lucky the authorities aren't getting involved with the injuries you gave."

"So you're punishing the boy for winning?" Vegeta barked.

"He just got in a lucky punch," Turles mumbled embarrassed.

"From the look of your face, he got in several," Vegeta shot back smugly.

Trunks smiled, looking up at Vegeta again. Emboldened by his father he answered, "Turles made fun of Goten and me. He said we weren't true Saiyans and he called me a name."

The admittance made Trunks look away, staring out the window to avoid meeting his father's eyes. Vegeta took note of the boy's silence and quiet admission. He turned his sight on Trunks's bruised knuckles.

"If he weren't a Saiyan, you probably would have killed him," Vegeta noted with an air of pride "What was it he said that had you react like that?"

Turles was glaring at Trunks, but the younger boy met his eyes with his own odious expression. Vegeta cleared his throat to draw Trunks's attention back. Trunks looked up at him, holding on to some of his angst for the man before him.

"He said I was lying when I told him who my dad is and he called me a bastard half-breed."

Vegeta's cold brooding eyes settled on Turles. That once comforting aura had spiked. It bore down on the Saiyan boy, engulfing the child's ki completely. Turles shrunk into his seat and whimpered as he attempted to fend himself from the prince. Even without powers of his own, the principal could feel the sudden weight in the room. He stepped in front of Vegeta, blocking his path to Turles.

"Mr. Vegeta, I assure you that we did not take this matter lightly. We spoke to Turles about his name calling and he admitted he was sorry."

Vegeta pushed the man aside, "This brat isn't sorry. He'll be sorry after I kick his teeth in, won't you runt."

The principal caught his fall and sputtered, "Mr. Vegeta, I don't know much about how Saiyans handle conflict, but here, I can't have you threatening bodily harm to the children."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and asked, "Who is your father?"

Turles gulped, but squeaked out a reply, "His name is Parship, Prince Vegeta.

Vegeta nodded, recognizing the name, "You say some shit about my son again, I'll kick your father's teeth in."

Turles spared a surprised glance at Trunks, but agreed, "Y'yes, sir."

"Good. Now you and Trunks wait outside. The principal and I need to discuss something."

Turles bolted from his seat and out to the reception area. Trunk followed him, giving one last look at his hero. He didn't know why the school called Vegeta instead of waiting for his mom, but Vegeta actually came. Not only that, the prince called him his son. That had to mean he cared about them, Trunks reasoned. He pushed away the hopeful thought and sense of joy he felt when Vegeta accepted him as his son. He couldn't get ahead of himself.

The two boys sat on the bench in silence. The principal's door closed and Trunks didn't feel Vegeta's ki fluctuating so he took that as a good sign. The door muffled the voices on the other side so Trunks struggled to hear what the men were discussing.

"Hey, I know this probably sounds like bullshit, but I am sorry. I didn't know you were royalty," Turles explained.

Trunks frowned, scrunching his nose, "I shouldn't have to be royalty for you to be a good person. You're only sorry because of who my dad is and I kicked your ass."

Turles smirked, but didn't fight the assertion, choosing another topic instead, "Hey, when we were in there, Prince Vegeta changed his ki when you were talking. What was that?"

Trunks shrugged, "He does that when I get nervous sometimes."

"It felt nice," Turles admitted quietly, "I didn't know Saiyan energy could feel like that. Anytime I felt scared, my dad punched me for being weak. He said that was the Saiyan way."

Before Trunks could respond, Vegeta exited the office. He directed a glare at Turles and motioned for Trunks to follow him. The two took to the sky toward Vegeta's home. Trunks's question pulled him back to the present.

"Mom's gonna freak isn't she?" Trunks groaned.

"Probably. You won't be going to class for the next three days, but the fight won't be on your record. That'll temper her," Vegeta answered.

Honestly Bulma would probably be more pissed at him that she wouldn't even care about the fight. Vegeta brushed the thought away. He wasn't ready to face her so soon.

"So…am I in trouble?"

Vegeta chuckled, "With me? That depends. Did you win?"

Trunks gave a small smile and nodded, "Yeah, he didn't know what hit him."

Bulma pounded on the front door of Vegeta's home. Vegeta opened the door. Ignoring the man, Bulma pushed past him and called out to Trunks.

"Trunks, I just got off the phone with your school and I hope you know you're grounded!"

"He was defending himself," Vegeta retorted, closing the door.

"That isn't how you solve conflicts," Bulma said, knocking on Trunks's door.

Vegeta scoffed and crossed his arms, "That's exactly how Saiyans solve conflict."

Vegeta pulled Bulma away from the door and led her to the couch. Bulma jerked away from him. Vegeta sat next to her with a stern expression.

"I handled it, Bulma. I trust you heard that Trunks won't be suspended. Trunks is fine now."

Bulma fumed, "Fine? How would you know what he's really been through? You left! You don't get to come back now and play Dad of the Year after you abandoned us!"

Vegeta's own anger gave way as his voice rose, "Abandoned you? I left for a few weeks. You left for years!"

Vegeta let out a huff and rose, "I'll check on Trunks and then we'll talk."

Vegeta found Trunk sitting on the edge of his bed, shrouded in darkness. Trunks held his Space Patrol spaceship. The prince sat next to him, waiting for a response.

"I'm sure you heard, but your mother is here." Vegeta spoke gruffly.

"Dad, I don't want to leave," Trunks uttered, his voice a whisper.

Trunks leaned against Vegeta's shoulder. In rare form, Vegeta lifted his arm and allowed Trunks to cuddle into his side. The toy fell forgotten from Trunks's hand. The boy buried his face into the man's chest.

"Trunks."

Trunks didn't answer and Vegeta sighed, speaking softer this time, "Trunks. Son, look at me."

The term felt both familiar and foreign on his lips. Trunks shook his head and tightened his hold. Vegeta's ears twitched at the sound of sniffles.

"I'm sorry. I know Saiyans aren't supposed to cry," Trunks forced out between tears, "Hearing you call me son…it's what I always wanted. I don't know why I'm crying."

Vegeta didn't speak. He simply waited and soothed him with his aura. After a moment, Trunks cleared the tears from his eyes.

"Um, is it ok to call you Dad? Or should it be Papa or Father? I could just keep calling you Prince Vegeta," Trunks rambled quickly, "I don't want to make it weird."

A hot blush stained Vegeta's cheeks, "Uh whatever you want, I guess. I mean you are my son."

An unreadable expression crossed Trunks's features and he pulled away. Vegeta stood up with a sigh.

"What is it? What was that look?"

Trunks glared at Vegeta, but settled into a contemplative pout. Vegeta watched the boy's eyes dart as he worked through some mental tug of war with himself.

"When Turles called me a bastard, he was right. You didn't want me. You left me."

Vegeta pulled himself from the bed, "I didn't; your mother was pregnant and I didn't-"

"I'm not talking about that! I mean after, when you found out. You left…I'm still mad at you," Trunks admitted finally, "You made Mom cry more than Yamcha ever did. I think I just want to call you Prince Vegeta for now."

Vegeta tensed, locking his jaw, but gave a stoic nod, "Alright, that's fair."

Vegeta walked out the room, shutting the door behind him. Bulma craned her neck to see the prince.

"Trunks okay?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta walked to the couch and nodded absentmindedly, "He doesn't want to call me his father."

The words came before Vegeta realized that he had said them out loud. Bulma didn't answer. She didn't really know what to say. Part of her delighted in the feeling of dread displayed on the Saiyan's face, but she knew the pain Trunks must be experiencing to tell that to Vegeta in the first place.

"We obviously have a lot to discuss, but not now ok? Let's just rest and later we can agree on what to tell Trunks, alright?"

Bulma stood, "I need to get Trunks now. If we don't catch the bus in fifteen minutes, we'll have to wait another hour."

"Bulma, Trunks doesn't want to leave and you don't have to leave. Come to bed," Vegeta said expectantly.

"No, Trunks and I are going home."

"This is your home. Why wouldn't you stay?"

Bulma's eyebrows burrowed in confusion, "Vegeta, are you serious? You called me a whore and compared me to the very tyrant who enslaved me in the first place. I lied. Yes, I lied and I'm sorry, but I did it out of love for our son. But you? You threw us out at a moment's notice with only a duffel bag. On top of that, you just left! No word, no sign, you just disappeared for weeks. If I hadn't had the foresight to keep our home, Trunks and I would have been homeless."

Vegeta huffed and opened his mouth to speak. Unable to control herself, Bulma slapped Vegeta. She was baring her soul and he couldn't even have the decency to look ashamed for all he had done to her? His eyes glazed a second, but refocused on her. Bulma should have expected the slap to do little to nothing to the man physically, but that infuriated her more. She felt so small next to him. Bulma reeled back her hand for another slap and then another. Her fists tightened and the slaps became punches, hitting Vegeta's chest and arms, anywhere her hands landed. All the while Bulma screamed at the man, releasing all the rage and hurt she'd bottled up.

"You're the worst, Vegeta! You just left; I had to pick up the pieces and you left us with nothing! Your men didn't even let me return for anything here. If Oolong hadn't allowed me back, we wouldn't have had enough food to eat! Your actions could have put OUR son on the street starving and now you want us to come back? I hate you so much! I have always protected you. I never wanted Trunks to see you in a negative light because you mean the world to him, but you couldn't help, but sabotage a good thing! Was it worth it? Is Daddy proud now that you've rid yourself of your whore?"

Bulma was puffing, trying to catch her breath from the assault. Vegeta hadn't spoken. Bulma raised her hand for another punch, but he caught her by the wrist.

"Stop. You'll hurt your hand," Vegeta answered softly, cradling the appendage with care.

Bulma's hand was red and scratched. Vegeta took the hand and healed it.

"I wasn't thinking straight," Vegeta conceded, "Between my father and Nappa, all these expectations imposed suddenly, I was leery. My words didn't come out right."

"You said exactly what you meant," Bulma answered coldly, "I told you I loved you and you called me a whore. I'll never forget that."

"I wasn't the one who said that," the prince tried to defend, "My father-"

"Don't insult my intelligence and don't hide behind your father's words!" Bulma hissed, shaking, "You knew good and well why you chose that moment to say that."

Bulma's voice became little more than a broken whisper, "It really hurt, Vegeta. More than you could ever know."

Bulma folded her arms, "You showed me that when things got tough, you would listen to everyone, but me."

"I made a mistake. I want to correct it. I want you both here. I want to hear your reasonings and I want you to hear mine. I wasn't the only one in the wrong here."

Bulma glared, ignoring Vegeta's last statement, "You want to correct this? Until when? Until your dad or Nappa or whoever drags my name in the mud again? I'm not taking that chance."

Vegeta sighed, "If I would have known how my words affected you so, I wouldn't have said those things. You're strong, Bulma. You're as strong as any Saiyan woman so I thought-"

"Stop! I don't want to hear that! I'm not a Saiyan and I'm not trying to be. If a Saiyan woman accepts you treating her this way, you should be with her. Vegeta, I'm not trying to be strong. I don't want to have to be strong around you. I want to know I could be weak and you would still protect me. I want to feel safe with you, not scared or uncertain."

Vegeta soured. She'd said it. She was scared of him, even after all this time.

"Well what am I supposed to do?" Vegeta grumbled defeatedly.

Bulma pouted, "I want you to open up with me. Tell me how you feel, reassure me."

"Saiyans don't do that," Vegeta spoke fervently, "We don't go around sharing and spouting off 'I love you' to anyone. The Saiyan language doesn't even have a phrase for that!"

Bulma called for Trunks again and began to gather her things, "Well I'm a human, not a Saiyan and I need to hear it! I'm sentimental or sensitive or whatever you want to call it, but I need this. You've always hidden me away like you're ashamed of me. I deserve more and I'm tired of settling."

It was obvious she'd spent much of her time away thinking about this. Vegeta pushed down his ire. He'd always let his ego carry him, but he had to practice patience. He wasn't going to lose her. Vegeta dropped to his knees and buried his face into Bulma's lap. She felt his arms wrap around her waist. In the rare showing of vulnerability, it took everything in her to stay firm in her wishes.

"Bulma, I was wrong. I'm sorry, okay? Now that I know the truth, I just want my family."

"You have your family. I never said I would take Trunks away from you," Bulma responded.

Vegeta met her eyes, amending softly, "I want you."

Bulma unlatched herself gently from Vegeta's grip. She waved Trunks over as he exited his former bedroom and took the time to smooth her dress as she stood.

"Prove it, Vegeta."

I had the hardest time conveying Trunks's emotions because I felt like he would be angry, but protective of Bulma, defiant yet acceptance seeking of Vegeta and just plain sad/confused. It all felt so complicated to break down with a child, but hopefully I managed. Also I just love the idea of Vegeta having to go to Trunks's school and understand Earth customs of handling things so I thought it would be a fun way to reintroduce the family. I'm juggling on whether I want the next chapter to be a flashback or not. Because Bulma and Vegeta are so stubborn, it's hard to balance their attitudes with a mature need for change. While Bulma feels bad, she also feels justified in her decisions and the same could be said of Vegeta so I'm brainstorming authentic ways they would resolve something so big. If you have any thoughts or ideas you want incorporated, let me know and thank you for reading! Until next time.