A/N: I'm back! Sorry for the wait, I had a spot of writer's block, but I seem to have resolved it and I'm back to cranking away. Thanks times a thousand! to Ell00Ell, lmamc, Kitty in the Box (I hope you continue to enjoy Trunks' development, he definitely has a lot to sort out!), BV4Ever (I know! Trunks can't catch a break, but that's how heroes are made-baptism by fire! Our boy can handle Nappa, don't worry lol), Hamza9236 (Gohan only has 4/5 years on Trunks in this iteration, that's one of the AU things about it), jazzymay377 (Glad you are keeping positive haha, we'll take a break from Frieza for a little bit and yes, Saiyan upbringing is not easy!), Guest, Bulmas Ego (thank you! It means so much to hear that and I hope you continue to enjoy!), sketchitout102 (That's something I've been thinking about… you might see it there soon!), HopelessRomantic183 (Wow, thanks and you are very right about Goku/Gohan in relation to Trunks-they're coming, narratively speaking, because Trunks needs some familiar, old faces to help him to sort out the mess in his head), Silvermist66 (This has been really fun because Trunks being the first to transform does change a lot—he has royal blood, but he's a half-breed—it changes how Vegeta views the situation, certainly.) Hope you all enjoy this new chapter!

Chapter 18:

Dende was nearly Trunks' size, but the half-Saiyan could still carry him easily on his back. The little green boy was still nervous and trying to hide it, but Trunks could hear the shaky breathing in his ear. "Still this way?"

"Yes, a little to the left," Dende responded. "It's not much longer," he assured Trunks.

Nappa was tailing them, still holding the Dragonball they'd won at Dende's village. After Nappa had filled Trunks in on the Ginyu Force, he had fallen into an irritated silence, as if the thought of what they were contending with here pissed him off. It probably did too, it's not like Nappa volunteered to come here and leave Vegeta. And Trunks could admit that after hearing about those guys, he wasn't exactly in the best of moods either.

"The reason Frieza doesn't completely control the Ginyu Force is because they have the highest of power levels in his army. He knows it's better to let them have some say over what they're doing, keeping them happy with an arrangement."

"Just how loyal are they?" Trunks asked, thinking about how they might evade fighting when possible. His mind was still filled with purple blood and gore and REAL hearts, gross and throbbing in his hand…

"Too loyal to be bought by anyone else," Nappa said. "Listen, boy, they are looking to get rich, and if they don't step on Lord Frieza's toes, that's exactly what they'll be. They are definitely not going to be making deals with some half-slave, half-exiled prince from a planet in servitude, who can't give them even as good as Frieza."

"Is that what I am?" Trunks said, feeling surprised enough at Napp's description of him to reemerge from some darker thoughts.

Nappa didn't answer him at first, and Trunks gave up on a response before he heard the Saiyan speak again. "Your father is the King of All Saiyans, and he has long valued power above all else. You will be whatever he decides you to be."

Trunks knew that Nappa had never cared for him or his mother, and that he had never approved of Trunks' birth. He may have been young, but Trunks was far from stupid. Still, from Nappa? That concession was a weird kind of acknowledgment and a Saiyan show of respect. Trunks was momentarily speechless. Dende took a shivering breath, not finding the conversation quite so friendly. "Your father is a King?"

"Yeah," Trunks said. He didn't feel like going into it and he knew Dende wasn't going to push it, being far too afraid after what had happened and then hearing about the jerks that were attacking his people.

"So… why do you think that Guru can help me?" Trunks asked, changing the subject to something more pressing on his mind. Guru was probably a Namekian like Dende, so could he really help?

"Grand Elder Guru can help anybody!" Dende declared. "I… I think…" It wasn't like different races just popped in. So hopefully, Dende's assumption was correct.

"How does he help?"

"He… helps people by unlocking their potential—their hidden power," he confessed timidly. "But that's why I think he can help you. You are a warrior of your kind, right?"

"Yeah," Trunks said. "So, you think he will help me get back Super Saiyan?" He tried not to sound too eager, but it was hard. Trunks didn't know what 'hidden power' meant to these guys, but he couldn't think of a better description for what it felt like when it happened. Was it a curse that came too late… or a power hidden inside of him that would still let him save her? Dende hesitated.

"I don't know what that is, but if it's connected to your hidden power, I'm sure he can help!"

This seemed like the best option, by far and away, and Trunks felt hope blooming in his breast. Could it really be this easy? He thought again of the blue guy that took-off before, and that worry returned.

VBVBVBVBVBVB

Namek was pale and cool-colored… Gohan steered the ship into the atmosphere, looking for something that would resemble the craft Trunks had taken from Vegeta-sei. He should have asked about it before, but nobody had thought about it. There were a lot of white-domes poking out from under the misty air.

"Let's just land, son," Goku said. "The sooner we can meet up with Trunks and start helping, the better." He sounded reasonable, but Gohan could hear the impatience and energy in his father's voice.

"I'm trying to make it so we don't have to look too hard for him. If we find his ship, then we'll find him or we'll have a closer start."

"Good thinking," Krillin said, peering over Gohan's shoulder. "Looks a little burnt over that way…"

He was right, there was some smoke billowing upward. Gohan frowned, wondering if their friend had already run into trouble. He felt the beginnings of fear in his heart, but he directed the ship towards the potential destruction. His father's ki was rising, the way it did when he felt a challenge coming his way—pure, unadulterated excitement. Gohan wished, especially in times like now, that he had inherited that approach to new dangers. Instead, he firmly pushed away his feelings and forged ahead, because it was the only way to survive.

"Gohan, do you see that?" Goku said urgently as they moved towards the smoking cloud.

He had. A lumpy, flying streak escaping the cloud… Saiyan eyes could easily see it was an alien with another alien thrown over his shoulder, one red and one dark blue, standing out starkly in the color palette of Namek. They were armored and though Gohan couldn't really say from this distance, they looked mean.

It definitely wasn't Trunks.

"What's that?" Krillin squinted.

"Should we follow them?" Gohan asked uncertainly.

"Oh yeah!" Goku exclaimed. "We can catch up in no time!"

That wasn't precisely what Gohan had asked, but he obediently steered the ship toward the figures.

"Can you tell what it is, guys?" Krillin tried again.

"The blue one is a holding his red buddy and they're heading away from the smoke," Goku supplied. "Someone could be hurt."

Krillin gulped. "And who did the hurting? I sure hope Trunks wasn't down there!"

"The only way we can find out is to talk to them," Goku determined enthusiastically. "I think there's more trouble than just some Dragonballs, and we might as well figure out what it is! Speed up, Gohan. We don't want to lose them!"

VBVBVBVBVBVB

"What are the chances that those guys have found Guru already?"

"I don't know," Dende said with finality, appearing to have already given the question a lot of thought before Trunks had even asked. "The Grand Elder doesn't live in a village with the rest of us… I don't think they would have found him unless someone said something, and no one would."

Trunks got a sudden warm feeling at the certainty in his voice, then it turned cold and forlorn. He had been so young when he last saw Gohan or Goku or Krillin, but he knew he'd be able to trust them the way Dende clearly trusted the other Namekians. His father's people… he cast a look at Nappa, whose loyalty to his father was without question, but was it because Vegeta was so strong? Or was it because of trust and friendship? He didn't allow himself to think about that long, because even though his brain kept wanting to think about these things, and ask all these questions with no answers, he knew it was pointless. If he got distracted, he'd end up dead… and if he ended up dead, then his mother would stay that way too.

Dende released an excited gasp and pushed his hand right over Trunks' shoulder, pointing insistently ahead. "There it is!"

Trunks hadn't known what to expect, but a domed house on a cliff wasn't it. And that's all it appeared to be. Dende spoke of the guy so reverently, you would think he probably lived in a domed palace in a city or something… but this?

It was fine. Trunks was tired of kingdoms anyway…

"Doesn't he have, I don't know… guards, or something?" Trunks asked. He didn't detect any power levels like the ones he fought in this area, but Dende had asked if Trunks was a warrior, so that must have meant that they had some warrior-types, right? He really hoped so, considering what was going on down there… and since this guy was their Grand Elder, it would have been good to have protection. On Vegeta-sei, the palace was always full of guards that glared at Trunks as he passed, a challenge in their eyes.

"Oh yes!" Dende bursts with more excitement than he had displayed so far. "I mean, he has Nail. He's the strongest Namekian alive! He's our warrior."

Warrior… as in singular?

"Uh… how many warriors do you have?"

Dende was silent for a long time and when he spoke, his tone was a timid confession. "Just Nail, actually. He's the last. The warriors have almost all died out."

Oh great.

For once, Nappa and Trunks were on the same wavelength, because the other Saiyan started grumbling. "Are you kidding, you little green twerp?! It's no wonder you're running around cluelessly while the Ginyu Force lops your heads off! What do you expect when you don't train a single man to fight!"

"They don't have men and women," Trunks said automatically, a fact he got off his mother's data-chip on Namek.

"Look. I don't care what they have. But if these people think that we're going to be able to save all of their sorry hides from the Ginyu Force, they have another thing coming!" He huffed, stilling hauling the Dragonball with both arms. "Not having any fighters. Ridiculous!"

Dende didn't argue, probably because he was too afraid. But Trunks privately agreed with Nappa… his mom had always said that his father and the other Saiyans were obsessed with fighting, even looked for reasons to fight. And to survive on that planet, Trunks had spent his life fighting and could say confidently that the Saiyans didn't care about much else.

But to only have one person on the planet to protect everyone? Seemed stupid to him.

Trunks legs were shaking as they landed and Dende dropped from his back. A tall Namekian was guarding the entrance and Trunks guessed that it was their warrior.

"Nail!" Dende cried, rushing to the creature and gripping his pant leg. "Is Guru alright?! I brought friends!"

Trunks realized that Nail was already slightly crouched in a stance, eyes ignoring Dende and locked onto Nappa. "Friends?" he said coolly. "I don't know what they've told you, but they're killing our people, Dende. And now I see what they wanted all along: the Dragonballs." The coolness melted into something fiercer. "This is as far as you're going to go!"

Nappa snorted derisively, but his eyes were lit with interest.

"Hey! We haven't killed anyone!" Trunks cut in hotly. "Except, I mean… the bad guys."

"So you're just carrying that around for fun?" the warrior demanded. He shook Dende's hands off and the boy tripped backward. "Are you out of your mind to bring them here, Dende?! Do you want the entire race to be wiped out?!"

"H-he's telling the truth!" Dende insisted with more firmness than they had seen. "Trunks—that boy—saved me from the ones that came here and are destroying us! I was the only one… they—they killed them all, Nail! But he," the boy looked back at Trunks with wide eyes, "he stopped them."

"Who are you, then?" the warrior asked suspiciously. Trunks took a step forward, knowing that this was his mission, and so he had to be the one to speak.

"We're from Vegeta-sei, a planet that's part of Frieza's PTO. You know what that is, right? The only reason that I'm here is because I know you have Dragonballs and I need a wish!" He looked Nail dead in the eyes, willing him to see the truth in his words. "I didn't come here to kill anyone or even steal them. When we came here, we saw what was going on, and…"

"And what?" Nail asked suspiciously, but Trunks could tell that he was softening.

He inclined his head respectfully, thinking quickly. Dende was one thing… but if he was going to get all of the Dragonballs, he needed to work with these guys. "I came here to get help. But I want to help you too, so maybe we can help each other?"

"Hey!" Nappa started, dropping the ball with a clunk and eyeing Trunks with fury. "I didn't sign up for this!"

Trunks was quick to return that look in kind, his father's words coming back to him once more. He didn't like Nappa's hot-and-cold act, he decided. He didn't at all. Now that he had come up with a plan, there was a sort of adrenaline rising in his blood and certainty about what he needed to do. Action, from one move to the next.

"The moment you sense rebellion from those beneath you is the moment to strike, brat! The longer you wait, the faster you will lose control of your objective. You allow NO dissension!"

It took the work of a moment. Trunks zipped behind the others with a speed that could barely be seen and landed a vicious kick to Nappa's knees before punching him into the ground, so hard that it cracked. Nappa let out a choked cry as he connected with the cliff and both of the Namekians gasped, but didn't intervene.

Trunks slowly crouched beside his father's man, so Nappa could hear him, making no mistake to the challenge. "Do you have a problem, Nappa?" His blood was roaring.

Nappa didn't say anything, though Trunks knew he had heard. And his palms pressed against the ground to push himself up and Trunks landed a fist on his back with just enough force to put him back down. He had threatened Nappa before, on the ship, but that wasn't enough. He needed to follow-through on his threats. "I didn't catch that," Trunks said haughtily. "Because if there is a problem… then you can FIGHT me. Right now."

Trunks had been stronger than Nappa for a while now, and for Nappa to challenge Trunks at this point would be his own end. For his part, Trunks could speak Nappa's language if he needed to… and brash, aggressive tactics were the best way. It was… strange, how so many things were coming together for him now. He didn't question it. Nappa needed to be subdued if they were going to accomplish their goal. Trunks said and did nothing else, holding himself prepared for the worst. If this had to get ugly, it was better for it to get ugly now and not while they fought others or whenever Goku and Gohan showed up…

Dende looked downright terrified, not used to seeing anyone brutalize another until this day… and the effect of all of this new violence going on around him was clearly shock. But Nail looked less questioning now, watching the exchange carefully.

Turning his head slightly, Nappa took a shallow breath and laughed. "Some of your training had to kick in, didn't it, brat?" He spat blood on the ground and sat up. Trunks had stiffened at his words, Nappa had no challenge in his eyes anymore, only the slightest bravado. "We have no problem. If you want to die fighting the Ginyu Force instead of raising that wretched woman back from the dead, that's your choice. I'll die fighting, like a Saiyan should."

"You should be very careful… how you talk about my mom," Trunks said merely. He wasn't going to say it again. It turned out that he had learned many things from Vegeta… He ignored the sick pit in his stomach and turned back to the Namekians, trying to calm the blood, trying to show them that he was an ally. His fist clenched, shaking. "I know we can help each other..."

Dende was looking as if he was reconsidering everything, but Nail looked more and more assured and if the situation was less dire, he might have even smirked. Dende had already said that the boy had stopped an attack on a village, and Nail could sense the desperation off this one: whatever he needed, he needed it badly enough to do anything. And as for the rest, Guru would be able to sense his intentions and purity of heart. If the boy's words were lies, Guru would know.

"Come with me," he said. "Guru will judge you. But that Dragonball will stay with me in the meantime."

It was clear that if Guru did not deem them worthy, that there was NO deal… Nappa slid his eyes to Trunks, who nodded his head once, keeping his eyes on Nail. They hadn't been on this planet long, but suddenly Trunks felt as if everything was going to depend upon this meeting. Nappa rolled the ball to Nail, who put it underneath his arm and gestured for them to follow.

"We haven't been disturbed here. But Guru feels the pain that is caused by the death of the villagers. He is sickened by grief and pain, but well enough to hear your plight."

"Can he still unlock 'hidden power'?" Trunks asked anxiously.

Nail nodded. "The invaders are few, despite how powerful they are sensed to be. Their work is slow."

The implication being that if too many Namekians died, then would Guru also die? Trunks didn't want to ask. Dende's ears drooped and he spoke for the first time since Trunks and Nappa's confrontation. "Will Guru be alright?"

Nail sighed. "There is a problem, that much is clear, but we can still solve it. I was worried, because my place is with Guru… I didn't see what could be done without outside help."

Trunks felt Nappa's sneer, but the Saiyan didn't interject. They entered a high-ceilinged chamber that was filled with an enormous chair and a large, wrinkled Namekian sitting atop it. Trunks stuttered to a near-halt at the folds of wizened, green skin and the sense of ancient power that hovered around him, tripping when Dende walked into him.

"I-is that…?!"

"That's Guru," Dende whispered, before running around Trunks to the figure with a stifled wail. "Guru! I'm so sorry!" The little Namekian huddled beside his leader's huge knee, muttering quickly and sorrowfully, and Guru rubbed his head in comfort. Trunks looked to see if Nappa was still sneering, but the large Saiyan seemed cowed.

"I know, my child… I know…" the voice was a rich rumble, comforting. "You did well to escape."

"I didn't escape, Guru!" Dende turned and pointed to Trunks. "They came to get help from us, but he saved me!"

Nail took a step forward, signaling his desire to speak. "They brought Dende here, along with one of the dragonballs. This boy came here for a wish, Guru. His…mother?"

"The woman who gave him life, yes…" Guru said, clarifying to the other Namekians, obviously understanding things beyond his own race.

"He wishes to revive her… he says."

"That's the truth," Trunks said calmly, he hesitated and then also entered his plea, unable to help himself. "And I'm willing to do anything if you'll let me use the Dragonballs, Mr. Guru."

"Anything?" The Grand Elder echoed, seeming to think on that for a moment. Nail watched his consideration, ready to attack if Guru so much as gave the slightest signal.

After a moment, Guru squinted his eyes to where Trunks and Nappa stood, looking as if he had come to a decision. "I knew of their presence. They are not like the ones that came here to destroy, though I sense some darkness. Please step closer and tell me what you want, young one. You are who comes with the desire?"

Trunks approached the great Namekian, inclining his head as his heart pounded in his chest. He felt like he was on the brink, staring at his mission, and this moment was the time when it could come to reality or be lost forever.

"Like I said, I came here for the dragonballs, Mr. Guru." He swallowed as a warm hand rested on his head and just kept talking. "I know what they can do—that they can bring the dead back to life and that's what I need. I came all this way because… well, I need it so much."

He tilted his head up to see that the nearly-closed eyes of the Grand Elder were kind and quiet. He wanted to explain everything, but since the second that hand rested upon him, he was suddenly very tired, his tail had unfurled from his waist, swishing vulnerably. And all the horrible things were swirling around his mind—things he had done and things he had seen. Being taken, being afraid for his mother, seeing the hatred in his 'brother's' eyes, being with his father, being alone, being angry...

"You are conflicted," Guru said softly. He lifted his hand from Trunks' head and the feeling subsided. "Your mind is a storm, but your intentions are pure in spite of your suffering… I have a warning for you, young warrior: hold fast to your goodness, because once lost, it will be difficult to ever win again."

Trunks bit back a grumble with all the respect that he could scrounge up, his tail wrapped back around his waist, tight. He didn't want to argue with the guy, but those platitudes were all nice and fine, until "goodness" cost you everything that ever mattered…

"I can hear what you will not voice, young one. And you need not worry, your inner disagreement will not dissuade me from helping you, only that you remember my words." His cough was a drawn-out rasp, like gravel crunching under the wheels of a car and Trunks was pulled out of his startled state—whether he could read Trunks' mind or not, he was sick and he could die just like anyone else. He needed help too. He was tired, too. And Trunks told himself to remember those words... no matter what he thought. "Your coming was not without design… tell me what exactly you need from me."

Trunks was nervous, afraid to ask, because if the answer was no good, then he didn't know what he was gonna do. "Dende says… Dende says that you have the ability to unlock power in people. And well, I—I have some power that…came out of me before, and… I don't know how to get it back out again." He wasn't being articulate, but he hoped that Guru would get the gist. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be a problem with that.

"Yes," Guru inclined his head with great judgement, "you have the power of the Legendary Warrior of your people. You are the Super Saiyan."

In the silence after that statement, Trunks blinked and heard Nappa take in a breath. It had been one thing to be what it was—to feel the power coursing through him in that horrible night where nothing felt real, to know what had happened… it was another to hear this almost all-knowing guy from another planet declare it like that.

"Nor will you be alone," Guru continued. Again, he placed a hand on Trunks' pastel head and Trunks felt every bone in his body relax into the quiet strength of his assurance. "But this power is not barred to you—you have already unlocked it yourself. Your turmoil has made it difficult for you to call on it again."

"Wait…" Trunks said slowly. "So… you can't just make it happen again?"

"I cannot open what you have already opened. However, I can help you to find it again."

"H-how?" The hand on Trunks' head suddenly made him nervous, but he felt no change.

The tremendous Namekian lurched as he moved forward slightly and then, Trunks felt the world suspend. "By telling you the truth of your power."

VBVBVBVBVB

Vegeta was in his elaborate chambers, gazing out at the red sky with an interest he couldn't identify. There was something out there that was important, but he couldn't remember. Something. Somewhere… What was it that he was seeking?!

Then came her voice, as disgustingly delighted as ever. "Hey homeboy… you're pretty cute!"

"Shut up."

The Woman giggled bawdily and he glared out of the corner of his eye, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his attention. Too bad she already knew him well enough…

He felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, the warmth of her hands hanging over his chest with that blasted familiarity he always allowed her. "Brooding again."

"You don't like it, then get out!" he sneered, angry without a foreseen cause. It must have been the thing he had forgotten, but also… her knowledge of his moods infuriated him. He was self-aware enough to acknowledge it, though he would never admit it to her.

Bulma. Her soft, perfectly pale hands drew further down his chest again because she withdrew slightly, he caught her hands, feeling it necessary and she smiled a little. "I can't."

"Can't what?" Dimly, it sounded like his words echoed.

"Leave," she said patiently, as if he should have known something already. He swung around to face her, putting together what she had said. She couldn't leave…

"You're my prisoner," he murmured, recalling that she said that often enough... He had brought her to his planet against her will and she may never forgive him that… but at least she was here with him and had no means to leave. He was willing to settle for such a thing if it meant that she would always stay.

Instead of yelling at him, she snorted a laugh, an uncharacteristic reaction to his reminder of her status. "As if!" She spoke so unconcerned that he furrowed his brow.

"Then what?"

"Oh, come on, Vegeta! Don't you remember?"

He thought about it, distracted by practiced hands teasing his collar and her blue eyes luminous as they gazed at him. He grasped her wrist to stop the motion, but as soon as he laid a hand on her, he realized everything.

"This isn't real." He fixed his eyes on her with a cold drop somewhere in the center of him. "You're not here, Woman."

She rolled her eyes and the arm he hadn't captured went to her hip automatically. "Even when I'm dead, you can't find it within yourself to call me 'Bulma', huh?"

He shook his head, ignoring her words. "What is this?"

"A dream."

"You're dead," he repeated her words with a sort of wonder as he gazed at her, mesmerized.

"Dead. Dead. Dead…" the echo was clear and obvious now, bouncing around their ears.

This wasn't a dream, he didn't dream… this was a nightmare. He knew she was right, but he didn't know how… he felt nothing, in fact. She looked even more beautiful than usual, though he would never say something like that to her. The Woman had an enormous ego as it was… likely even in his nightmares.

"It doesn't matter what I am," she assured him. There was now a mischievous glint in her eye that captured him all the more, he released her wrist and reached for her hips because he suddenly felt a nearly uncontrollable need to touch her, but she pushed his grasping fingers away more quickly and easily than he thought she could. She was always so weak. "It only matters what you are…" she laid a slow, lingering kiss on his cheek. He should have pushed her away for such a gesture, but his arms were heavy with reluctance. Her word burned in his ear as her mouth hovered close over it. "Trapped."

"Trapped?" he scoffed, leaning away from her. The word held some significance. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything in this nightmare.

"Well, you're the King now, aren't you?" She said it like she was humouring him, on a sigh of disappointment.

"I chose to be King," he argued with finality. He didn't like where the conversation was going. He hadn't, really, since she had opened her mouth…

"Well, you didn't really choose it, did you?" she waved a hand dismissively. "Tell it to someone who doesn't know you, Vegeta… If you had thought there was a choice, you wouldn't be here…" she sighed, acting tired of his stubbornness and utterly unafraid of disrespecting him.

"I told you…" He was angry, because she always said she understood. But how could she?! She'd promised him that she'd help make him the Legendary, but she wasn't even here anymore! She'd figured out why their son had bursts of obscene power, but never told him why. She'd even threatened to escape him and go back home with Trunks, but now look where they were?! All lies. "But you REFUSED to listen, and now you're GONE!"

"I'm not the one who left, Vegeta…" The King flinched, hearing an accusation even if she said it so matter-of-factly. She hadn't blinked the whole time he was yelling in her face, and he took a deep breath.

"What is that supposed to mean?!" he growled.

"Exactly what you think it does," Bulma shrugged. "I know what you did to the boy who killed me."

He couldn't describe the feeling that rose in him when she said that…so nonchalant, so indifferent to the fact that she was dead, when he… when he…

"That misbegotten brat was not a boy, Woman. He was a clone—a clone that couldn't face me like a Saiyan warrior, so he—" So he had killed her, his… like a COWARD! The words stuck in his throat.

"He…" Bulma prompted needlessly. He couldn't and wouldn't finish his sentence.

"Tch." She was dead, what was he doing talking to her? Why was he entertaining this at all? He started to move away from her, intent on breaking this spell or whatever it was, but when he turned away from her again, her echoing voice caught him.

"You said you never wanted to be your father…"

The rage that pulsed through him at her presumptuous words threatened to choke him. "You… how dare—you know NOTHING!" he shouted, but then she was gone and he was bolted up, chest heaving, awake.

It took a moment to regret having woken up. It took another moment to pretend that he hadn't regret.

But still, without his permission, his feet left the bed and carried him to her side.

A/N: I've found that I can't leave Bulma out, even when she's not currently alive lol. But I don't think Vegeta would be thinking about these things unless he's forced, wouldn't you agree? Bulma's boys are in for some big changes and she might not even know what she's coming back to. Let me know if you enjoyed, send me your thoughts, because it helps for me to get a feel as to whether readers and I are on the same wavelength! Thanks so much for reading!