A/N: Sorry about that wait! I finally gave it up and had to break this chapter up into two because there's a lot going on. Thank you so much to NNP (me too, believe me!), lmamc (me too, I was chomping at the bit to get her back, so it was such a relief to get to write it), HopelessRomantic183 (I love the way you were working out about Porunga and the wish… I hate to say that I'm not addressing the Namek part of the plot in this chapter, but I have to say that my thoughts ran very similarly to yours and leave it at that for now!), Lisa8507 (Thank you! There may or may not be another surprise in this chapter… read on), Lily (thank you kindly!), Guest (that is so kind! I don't have something like that currently, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do!), and 6on (thank you so much! And don't worry, I have no intention of that… I have quite a few things mapped out for this story!). Really, I so appreciate the reviews, you have no idea! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 22:

"Vegeta!" Bulma gasped as the water fell away. She wasn't drowning, she had never been. A dream? There was a slight panic as she woke up, and she called out for him automatically. She should have known better, but then there he was, less than a moment later.

Vegeta—her living wall of protection from anything physically harmful, and somehow also, her nightmares. If she could catch her breath, she would have burrowed into him and hibernated, finally and paradoxically safe.

She knew that there hadn't been any water... Vegeta was holding her like a vice and that was why it was so hard to breathe. There was no water, only a memory, or it had been a dream. A very real dream…

She couldn't see his face with how he was holding her and he didn't move to change that, but he did loosen his grip slightly, enough for her to fill her lungs with air. They felt unused and she was so unexplainably wired. Her gaze darted around them. It was the Saiyan palace, she knew… but this wasn't where she had remembered being. What was the last thing she remembered? Why couldn't she tell?

"Vegeta…" Her hand reached up and felt for his cheek. His jaw was in an almighty clench that made her hand snap back in alarm. "Hey. What's going on?" Her voice was another thing that felt like an old piece of machinery. He was molded to her, but was as hard as a statue. It wasn't exactly comfortable. There was a fine vibration in him that was the only tell that he was the Saiyan she knew, and not some stone replica. "Really …what the hell is going on? Where are we?"

"Stop…" he rasped when the speed of her questions increased, and she could have finished the command herself: Stop asking questions.

But even with that, he was acting odd. Holding her the way that he was; no real irritation, no expedience, no brusqueness, no nothing…

She knew—from the dream, from Vegeta, from her own body—that something big had happened that she didn't know about. She thought she had woken up from sleep, but maybe she wasn't.

Maybe she was …regaining consciousness?

With that idea, she forced him back, pushing hard until he would have been fighting her to stay pressed against her. He didn't seem to want to fight today, because he humored her and leaned back so that they were now a few inches apart.

To see the look in his eye made her heart briefly stop and cold prickles coat her skin.

He was seeing a ghost.

"Something happened…" she said slowly. "To me."

He didn't need to respond to give her an answer. Something had happened to her, but that could mean anything. Vegeta looked worse for wear, though she didn't know why. Something had happened to him too, obviously. And then the worst possible continuation of that thought presented itself, of what they shared.

"Trunks. Trunks, where's—"

She made to get off the velvet-like perch she had been laying on, but Vegeta gripped her, his gaze avid to the point that she couldn't look at him. He was making her uncomfortable and she had rarely had reason to say that; it was usually the other way around.

It was like he couldn't believe he was looking at her and the sight was the greatest gift of his life. She knew she was vain, but the expression sat so weird on the face of the Saiyan prince that she could have probably gone her whole life without it, to be honest. But right now, that was the least of her worries.

"Vegeta. Did something happen? Where's Trunks?" She was propelled by her words again, but this time when Vegeta obstructed her, it was clearly to restrain. So she tried to buck the sonofabitch in kind, like a wild horse. "Vegeta!" she screeched at him, "Let go!"

He was silent and too strong to fight. What the hell was his problem? Why wasn't he saying anything?! Why wouldn't he just let her investigate the answers if he wasn't going to talk?!

It was like she wasn't putting up a fuss at all. He didn't rise to the occasion of her blatant nuisance. Instead, Vegeta's one hand palmed her cheek with something like amazement, and her dread increased and she stopped struggling in utter shock.

What the fuck was his problem? Was he concussed or something? She tried calmness again because flipping out wasn't doing any good.

"Vegeta. You need to tell me where Trunks is now or I'm going to freak out. Okay? Where is Trunks?"

"He did it," Vegeta murmured.

Bulma sighed, he was being more annoying than he had ever found her to be. But if there was something actually wrong with him, she should be patient with his delay. She just didn't have it in her.

"Did WHAT?"

"He did it." His lack of response and hungry eyes made her do the one thing she guessed would make him snap out of it: she grabbed his face and kissed him, open-mouthed and forceful. His instinct was immediate—he moved slowly out of his stupor, and then eagerly wrapped his arms around her like he was reanimated.

When she was sure she had emotionally resuscitated him, she pushed him off.

"Where. Is. Trunks?" Bulma asked, then looked briefly around at the room she had never seen before. "In fact, where are we? Can you please tell me what's going on here?!"

"Trunks is fine," he managed to choke out. Bulma stared at him, disbelieving.

"I know you're terse, Vegeta, but this is ridiculous. WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"You died."

"I—" She frowned, shutting her mouth as the words hit her. For some reason, that was the last thing she had expected him to say. "I…"

She'd never died before. It was stupid to think …but it was the first thought in her head: she'd never died before, and she didn't even remember it. Her hands went to her throat, feeling the pulse there and staring at the floor. "I …died."

"Yes." She looked up at him and he wasn't looking at her. He was shame-faced, and the one thing she managed to realize in the turmoil about him was that he likely saw that as a personal failure—that he had failed to protect her.

"H—how?" she sputtered. She wasn't fool enough to think that the Saiyans hadn't made their attempts, especially on the wish of the King, if they dared at all… But Vegeta was the most powerful being on the planet, and nothing had gotten by him; and she knew that he had made clear what would happen if he were aware of any attempt on her life... It had proven to be quite the deterrent.

But someone had not been deterred, obviously.

Now he met her eyes, and his were almost pulsing red-hot rage as he clearly recalled it. "That fucking clone of my father's," he spat, "snuck to our bedchamber while I trained the Boy."

Her mind struggled to catch up with all of the information she was receiving.

"Geta," she whispered, taken aback by the fact that he had been willing to kill her despite the consequences. He had hated her that much? Bulma's gazed radared to Vegeta's, blue eyes piercing. "What did you do to him?"

He froze, and she shook her head, almost afraid of the answer and trying out the worst possible conclusion. "Vegeta? Did you kill him?"

"His fate is no concern of yours," he told her coldly.

That angered her. "The hell it is!" she swore. "He killed me, didn't he?!" She blinked, realizing something. "Wait… how am I alive now?"

Vegeta took her hand, seeming agitated. "I will tell you all, but not here. Let's get out of this blasted room."

"I've never even seen this room," Bulma noted as she followed him out. Her legs, and everything else, seemed to be working fine, but she allowed him to lead. "Are we in the palace?"

"Yes."

He led her to an opulent bedroom, larger than the one he stayed in, and she realized that it could only be the King's room. She halted immediately, leaving him to stop. "Vegeta. Why are we in here?"

His father would surely kill her, his Royal Highness preferred her out-of-sight and this definitely wouldn't be if the he walked through the doors now. Vegeta rubbed his face at the question. "There's so much you don't know."

"Then tell me!" She felt cold. "How long have I been dead, Vegeta? How am I alive now? Why aren't you even surprised that I'm alive? Why are we in the King's chambers, and for the love of Kami, where is Trunks?!"

She knew her son would have been here if it were possible. She didn't even want to think about how he must have felt when she died… She couldn't have helped it, but to her, it felt like she had abandoned her child to the world alone. It made her sick. Leaving Trunks an orphan…

No. She stared at Vegeta, who didn't appear to know where to start, or didn't want to tell her anything. She needed answers and she needed them now. "Okay," she began as calmly as she could muster. "Okay, why don't you just start from the beginning. When Geta—"

Vegeta growled and she ignored him.

"When Geta killed me. Start there."

"As soon as it happened," Vegeta swallowed hard. "I felt your presence leave. The boy too, he—" the Saiyan shifted.

Trunks… Bulma shivered.

"We found that abomination next to you. And I had to stop him from taking its life."

"Hold on. Trunks almost—"

"Yes. He was enraged," Vegeta explained as Bulma sank onto the bed, heedless of where she was or who it may have belonged. She couldn't feel her legs. "You wouldn't have liked to see him that way…"

Tears filled her eyes, heart breaking for her son. Still, something didn't add up to her, and how he was telling this story. "Why did you stop him? I figured you'd be proud."

She remembered Vegeta's constant complaints that Trunks had only a little killer instinct, and that it only activated under the protection of those he loved. But the boy had never been so overcome with that desire to fight that he was ready to take another life. And when the moment had presented itself …Vegeta had stopped him?

A thought struck her. "Were you protecting Geta?"

The vicious, befuddled expression on his face told her immediately that that was nowhere near his intention, so she hurried to explain her logic. "I just thought that if Geta is meant to inherit your father's throne, then—"

"That bastard clone will inherit NOTHING from me!" Vegeta hissed in disgust. "No. No, I had other things in mind for his future…"

"Inherit from you?" Where was Vegeta's father? Bulma was beginning to see that her death had changed a lot, and she wasn't liking the picture that was forming.

"Stop interrupting, Woman, and let me finish!" Vegeta said testily. "So Trunks wanted to take vengeance on the clone. But it was more than that. Something happened. And I suspect that you'd known all along."

"What?"

"Trunks is the Super Saiyan, Bulma," he said sharply, as if he was trying to get the retelling over with. "He …ascended into something more powerful than the likes of what we've ever seen before."

"So," Bulma's mouth went dry. "Trunks is—"

"Trunks is a savior of our people."

Bulma recalled a time when Vegeta had noted that her death could very well put Trunks over the edge, but that he shouldn't require such lengths to rise to greater heights. And it had been true. Trunks was the Super Saiyan. Because she had died. He accomplished such a thing because he had lost her… Her head hurt at the cost to her son. Vegeta had had more time to come to terms with it, because he continued on too quickly for her to do anything other than cast the thought aside.

"He has proven himself. But I say 'a savior' because he can't be the only one. I will not let him take victory over Frieza from my hands! I must ascend too. And now …now I know that it is possible. I know that the legends were true."

He seemed more himself as he stared moodily at the wall, and Bulma knew that it was the insecurity he had always battled with—his hardest and longest fight. And Frieza was at the heart of it: the hurdle that Vegeta always saw in the distance.

In this state, he likely hadn't realized that he had said so much, but she already knew that this would be one of Vegeta's worst nightmares …to be surpassed, even by his own son. That was how Bulma knew that Trunks had indeed become a Super Saiyan. Vegeta would have never made up such a thing.

"I think you can do it."

Vegeta's gaze snapped to her, expressionless. But Bulma knew.

She knew what he was thinking: all the ways in which he and Trunks were different, and if any of those differences are what made Trunks what he was, then it spelled the end for Vegeta's own power. That was what he was thinking, in the deepest recesses of his mind. Bulma's eyes shined with hope instead, just for that moment for him.

"If a half-Saiyan can reach it, then why couldn't a full-blooded one? You can try to do what Trunks did."

Vegeta looked sick at the thought and Bulma again knew what had crossed his mind. She had died, and it had come to nothing for him. He lifted his chin defiantly. "I will ascend, and I will find my own way," he responded resolutely. "In the meantime, I am the King."

"Your father—"

"He is dead." Vegeta pronounced, appearing not-at-all sorry. "He was a threat to you. He was a threat to Trunks. And it became clear that he could not live any longer. That clone was his doing, and I couldn't allow it to continue to poison everything."

In the long silence, both of them knew that was an admission of something for him. Bulma couldn't tear her eyes from him, and he didn't look away this time. It was like he wanted her to see the thing he had once tried so desperately to hide. But the other revelation implied was one that wasn't so digestible.

"So you killed your father…" Bulma paled, leaning sideways a little on the bed, and Vegeta steadied her before she had knew she was off-balance.

She was wearing one of his shirts, the sleeve slipping down her shoulder. She didn't know whether she had been wearing when Geta killed her, and it was easier to think about that than all the other things she was learning. She closed her eyes when she felt Vegeta breathe her in.

"So much sympathy," Vegeta murmured near her ear, "for those that wanted to see you dead, and succeeded…"

Bulma pushed out of his grasp because all of this news (or maybe his closeness) had begun to make her head spin. All business and her son, she thought. She had to figure this all out.

"Fine. You killed your father after Geta killed me." That was Saiyan stuff she needed to put aside for the time-being. "…but how am I alive now? And where is Trunks? I don't care about the rest of the story anymore, just tell me that!"

Vegeta nodded. "Those answers are joined, in fact. Trunks knew of something that would bring you back to life. Something that you have known about, but never shared."

Ah, there was clear accusation in his voice. But she ignored it and cobbled the facts together quickly enough. The bare bones of an escape plan if she really couldn't trust Vegeta had never been far from her mind. It was the most important thing she had ever shared with Trunks that she hadn't shared with his father. She was almost afraid to say it aloud, almost, because she refused to concede that he had any right to her unquestioning loyalty. Not after he had kidnapped her to this planet. Her eyes flashed up to his with challenge. "He went after the Dragonballs…"

"Yes, the Dragonballs," Vegeta said with scorn. After all this time, her heart still skipped to hear the word out of his mouth. "Simple little things that grant the desires of those who gather them. I wonder why you never told me about them?"

"Yes, I wonder why," Bulma said bitingly. He was just as acquainted with their game as she was, and the secrets that she kept were no worse than the secrets that he kept from her. She may have just returned back to life, but the comment was enough to remind her that while she loved him, she couldn't trust his better nature, and she wouldn't gain anything by pretending that was so. She pushed past that without another thought.

"So Trunks returned to Earth?" she prompted impatiently.

"No." Vegeta shook his head. "He felt it would take too long. He wouldn't risk waiting to save you, so he went to the other planet that possesses them."

All of her catalogued information was rushing back and a headache was blowing in at full-force. "Namek?!" Bulma screamed. "You let him go to NAMEK by himself?!" It was one thing to know that a planet had Dragonballs. It was another to send her non-space-travelling son to a place where the creatures and the land and all of the potential threats were barely known at all!

But Trunks was there, facing that unknown for her... To say the least, it completely terrified her. And who knows how long he had been there before she had rejoined the living?! What the fuck, Vegeta?

"Of course not, he took Nappa with him!" the Saiyan defended, but Bulma had already jumped to her feet and was striding toward the door. "Bulma!"

"No. I can't talk to you anymore," she spat. "Tell your minions at the hanger to get a ship ready for me."

He could have stopped her, grabbed her, blocked her—but he didn't. He followed after her, their steps landing heavily at a rushed, marching pace. "What were you thinking, Vegeta?! Letting him go?"

He merely called from behind her, "You're not taking a ship, Woman!" as she fled past the Meeting Chamber. His shirt slipped off one shoulder again and she pulled it up furiously. Vegeta's shirt. Not that she cared what the hell she wore—a space suit would be the next objective. Her head throbbed but she was in a fighting mood.

"Yes I am taking a ship! Because obviously, I'm the only parent here that actually cares if our son ends up dead!"

His pace was almost as slow as hers, and she wondered if he was somehow enjoying this? He wasn't physically stopping her from storming off—so very unlike him. Or maybe he knew that if he tried to stop her, he would have to kill her.

Again.

"Whine all you want, but you just stopped being a corpse, Woman, and you certainly aren't leaving."

"Screw you!" She stumbled angrily, catching a hand against the wall before she could fall. Her mind distantly noted that it was adrenaline she was running on; pure adrenaline. Her boy was on some planet and she needed to see him. That was all she would think about now.

But Vegeta wasn't trying very hard to stop her, and it was somewhat throwing her off. "He's returning, Woman. How do you think he'll feel to come back here and find his mother has already left?"

She slowed down a little at that, but wasn't about to give him any leeway. "I'll send his ship a message and tell him that I'm meeting him."

He caught up—caught her arm and spun her around, black eyes right in her face. She finally saw the steel in every inch of him. He hadn't been giving up, he had known she had no chance at all of defying him. He was the king of this planet. Kami, he was a King…

His fingers clenched around her bicep, but the power of him was not in his physical strength alone. He didn't even snarl at her—it was all simple fact to him. His word was law.

"I won't give you that information. You won't know the codes. You won't know what ship he took. Nothing. You're not going anywhere."

"You—!" Bulma hit him twice, as hard as she could in the chest. "You self-righteous, controlling BAST—"

His hand fell over her mouth briefly, stopping the flow of her insult, and his eyes flickered past her head. Danger, she thought.

"I'm not discussing this here. Shut up about anything having to do with the Boy. Now."

She clearly didn't know even half of what was going on, but Trunks still needed her. Her chest flared with rage as she hit his hand away from her, ready to really let him have it!

"Is this a bad time, my King?"

Now she felt it: the heavy presence at her back. Bulma turned slightly to see a huge, muscled pack of Saiyan nobility that hadn't been there a moment ago. Unsurprisingly, Vegeta must have spotted them before she did. None of their faces were friendly or recognizable to her.

Being cloistered on Vegeta-sei meant knowing little of the hierarchy or faces involved. It had never seemed to matter before, given that it hadn't even mattered to Vegeta.

Of course, now it would.

Well, they certainly seemed to know of her, even if they hadn't seen her before. In fact, some of those faces were eyeing her with visible confusion and surprise. What had Vegeta told them after the night she had died and Trunks had disappeared? Aspirin …she needed an aspirin.

Vegeta released her and she stepped slightly away from him, unsure what to do or what politics she had run headlong into. Vegeta was the King now… what did that change? It changed everything about his interaction with his people. Her head started to throb more insistently.

There was one at the helm of this group who didn't seem interested in her at all. He was younger than most of them, and he paid her no notice, still staring at Vegeta with some irreverence. Bulma guessed he had been the one to speak before. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps if there is some personal matter, we can convene later…"

Even in her growing haze, the inflection of his voice suggested that it wasn't really acceptable to him, or probably any of the Saiyans. "I have no need for that," Vegeta said, but when Bulma looked back to Vegeta and his response, he was still watching her, absorbed to the point of rudely ignoring whoever he was addressing. Kami, she was only wearing his damn shirt…

"Throw your tantrums all that you like," he said to Bulma in front of them, smooth as honey. "Be as angry with me as you wish, but the information is mine to dispense with as I wish. As are the ships."

"Keep me from my son, Vegeta, and I will hate you." Bulma swore to him, fury coming readily at the words. Her curiosity was gone with the snap of a finger, she didn't care about his stupid politics!

He leaned in to her and she realized that while she may not have cared, he at least regretted having an audience for this discussion. What lies had he told these people? About her, about Trunks, about his father, about Geta… Her mind felt like it was swimming in dense waters, but it kept trying to jump to the next conclusion. And it kept trying to focus on him, and whatever it was that he was trying to do.

"Hush," he murmured softly. She knew from experience of watching him that softness in his tone was when he was most dangerous. Still, all she could think of was Trunks, who was gone. She shoved at Vegeta and he didn't humor her this time. He smirked and her anger spiked so dramatically that she completely forgot herself: she drew back and slapped him.

He had plenty of time to stop her. He didn't. With amazement, she watched Vegeta's head snap briefly to the side. The air seemed to move in a thousand different directions, too fast for her. Things were unfolding, but her eyes and her muddled brain couldn't catch them.

Vegeta's hand was suddenly raised above her head, gripping the wrist of another. It seemed that in one second, all of the Saiyans in the vicinity had moved closer, ready to fight someone or something. And Vegeta was blocking one of the guards from dealing her what was sure to have been a deadly blow, and it had suspended all the other men like he was holding them all back. Her heart raced belatedly and her legs began to shake at the fate she had narrowly missed.

Oh, what had she been thinking?

Vegeta blinked down at her and then casually brought the guard's hand down, snapping his arm cleanly and throwing him into the wall, where he flew through it like it was paper. The sound was deafening.

The maneuver was done in her defense, and still …Bulma felt like a terrified rabbit among wolves. They were frozen wolves, waiting for their King's pronouncement. Vegeta's eyes slowly moved from hers, to the ragged hole, to the other Saiyans circling them.

"If you touch her," he continued in that slow, soft voice, but this time to the room at-large. "I will kill you."

The room almost tasted like unrest and Bulma's stomach roiled.

"But Your Majesty, she—"

"She does whatever I wish for her to be allowed to do," Vegeta cut across him.

He was going to really piss them off, she thought… It also seemed to her that he had a plan. But where was Trunks fitting in to all of this? She needed to get to Trunks. What did she care about this crap? She needed to get a hold of her balance and walk away from this situation…

Breathe, she instructed herself. Just breathe, and get it together, Bulma.

The young Saiyan noble from behind her spoke again. "It's treason to lay hands on the King. For even a Saiyan …Your Majesty." The address was tacked on. That one didn't like Vegeta at all. Bulma felt herself begin to tremble, trying to still it so she could pay attention to what was happening. Vegeta wasn't angry she had hit him, it seemed. But what was he doing?

"You don't understand the situation, Lord Cumber."

"No, he doesn't. In fact, none of us do, Your Majesty. It would seem we were misled at the least about whether or not this human woman lived."

Vegeta didn't seem troubled by this line of questioning, even though it would have made sense for him to be.

"You were. And that isn't all, General Cauli… the Woman isn't dead. Nor is she a slave, as you have believed for much longer than that..."

Huh? Bulma's head had taken off on a rollercoaster and she wondered if this was some side effect of coming back to life. She had never died before, so what would she know about it? Maybe it was all of this information; being dropped into events; discussion of things that she hadn't been around for, and her brain (for once) wasn't keeping up…

Bulma blindly, but subtly, grabbed for Vegeta's wrist to stabilize herself. He let her keep her hands on him and distracted the onlookers with his next words.

"She is your Saiyan Queen."

Bulma had a split-second choice: throw-up or pass out. She went with the latter.

A/N: Poor Bulma comes back and they fry even her genius brain... On top of that, Vegeta has to politic, what's he doing? And after all that, we'll get back to Namek, don't worry lol. Let me know your thoughts!