It was dawn. Vegeta could feel the sunlight warming the back of his eyelids and his sensitive hearing was picking up on the birds chirping outside. His muscles were already groaning at him from his efforts the previous day, and he was reluctant to try to move them.

Before even cracking open his eyes, memories of his week began flashing in his mind. The androids, his Future son, Cell, Bulma and Trunks nearly dying, Kakarot dying, Future Trunks dying, himself lying on the ground bloody and bruised, accepting his demise and apologizing to Gohan that once again he was not good enough.

He furrowed his brows in frustration and reached over to grab the extra pillow next to him to stuff over his face and stifle a groan, though what he found was a shock to him. His fingertips grazed across hair that was laying on the satin pillowcase and he knew it wasn't his own.

At last he pried open his eyes and allowed them to adjust momentarily. What greeted him was the sight of unruly bright blue locks, and the Saiyan was taken aback.

What the devil is she doing here?

He couldn't recall engaging in any activities with the woman the night prior, in fact he knew he didn't as he spent the entire night reliving the events of the day so much that it carried into his dreams. So why was she in his bed?

As if unconsciously sensing his thoughts, Bulma rolled over in her sleep to face Vegeta. For a moment he was worried she would awaken and catch him in the act of gaping at her, but to his relief she sighed contently and continued snoozing.

He took a moment to gaze upon her soft features, noticing the morning sun shining in through the windows and onto her porcelain skin. He had never noticed how unblemished her flesh was. Where his was battered in scars and damage, hers lacked even an ounce of imperfection. Her brows which were usually furrowed together in frustration or anger, were sitting relaxed on her forehead, portraying not an ounce of expression for once. Her pink lips were parted ever so slightly and he recalled the times they were pressed against his own. Her straight blue hair had fallen partially onto her cheek, and was causing her nose to twitch ever so slightly. Without a thought, Vegeta reached out and tenderly brushed the locks off of her face and behind her ear, taking a moment to caress her jaw as he continued to take the sight of her in. Whatever nightmares had tormented him in his sleep were now long forgotten.

Lying here, in his bed, she looked so peaceful. Like nothing had ever harmed her before in her life, and never would. Perfectly content, and safe… He didn't often see her in this manner. Usually their interactions were fiery and passionate, he couldn't recall having shared a moment so intimate with the mother of his child.

A sharp pang ran through his chest at the thought, and he physically winced, grateful once more that she was still asleep. The absence of a tender moment such as this was not for her lack of trying, he regrettably admitted, but for his.

Here lay a woman in his bed, whom he was undeniably attracted to both her enticing looks and her fiery personality. He knew she was considered to be the smartest woman inhabiting this planet, not to mention he had examined her interacting with their son and had come to the easiest of conclusions that she was more fit a mother than any Saiyan or human he had seen in his numbered days- and yet… what was stopping him? What hindered him from fully opening himself up to her? He knew without a shadow of a doubt there wasn't another female in all of the universe whom he desired to have as his mate.

His thoughts frustrated him, and he quickly pulled his hand away from her face and sat up in bed. He didn't want to think about this any longer- Kami knows he had enough to think about already. Careful not to stir her, he threw his legs over the side and sat for a minute rubbing his forehead until the rest of his thoughts cleared away. What he needed was some breakfast, he figured. He fell asleep without dinner last night and was growing to regret that decision more and more as the sun rose higher in the sky. Some food would help him think clearly and stop dwelling on all this nonsense.

As he stood to his feet, he realized he was still nude and a crimson hue grew over his cheeks. Not only did she sneak into his room and crawl into his bed, but he was completely naked the whole time? He glanced once more at the woman slumbering near him and let out a breath as he saw that unlike himself, she was in fact fully clothed. So his memory hadn't failed him after all, however that still left the question of what the hell she was doing there. He hurriedly grabbed a pair of slacks and a blue long sleeved shirt and made his way downstairs, anxious to distance himself from such puzzling thoughts and the source of them.

As he stepped into the living room and began walking towards the kitchen, his nose picked up on the smell of sausages, eggs, and waffles and his stomach rumbled loudly. He could hear his son playfully babbling from his high chair, as well as Bulma's mother entertaining him.

"Vegeta! Good morning!" She said in that unpleasantly high pitch of hers. "Come sit down and I'll make you a plate!"

The prince didn't have to be told twice. He took a seat at the table facing the doorway and just to the left of Trunks' high chair. The boy had a breakfast sausage in his hand and was waving it around, covered in slobber and syrup. He kept pointing it at Vegeta, offering it to him. Vegeta barely had time to grimace in disgust when Panchy set his plate in front of him.

"Oh Trunks! Your daddy doesn't need that he's got his own food honey. You enjoy this one!" She giggled in amusement before returning to her cooking.

The two Saiyans began munching on their breakfast, Vegeta inhaling his at an insane speed. He tried to push away the images of his son's older self spewing up blood as he coughed his final breath. He tried to push away the years they spent together training in the time chamber, or rather the years he spent neglecting him and pursuing his own training alone. He tried to push away his son's angry glare as he questioned why the hell Vegeta hadn't tried to save his child and his child's mother when Dr. Gero fired a blast that completely obliterated their ship, and nearly them along with it.

His breaths began growing faster and more shallow, and his chewing slowed in reaction. He didn't understand what was happening to him- there was no danger nearby. His eyes briefly flicked around the room as he reached out and felt for any unfamiliar ki nearby and he discovered he was correct about that. He set his fork down to fully catch his breath, taking a few sips of orange juice which seemed to be helping.

What the fuck was that?

Slowly he began eating again, finishing his first plate and digging in to his second plate that had just been placed before him. He didn't avert his thoughts or his eyes from his entree for even a moment, that is until he caught a glimpse of blue hair walking into the kitchen.

"Good morning Bulma!" Her mother exclaimed. "I've just finished up here, I'm going to bring a plate up to your father. Feel free to help yourself dear!"

"Thanks mom!" Bulma said as her mother strolled out of the room. Vegeta's eyes tracked her movements nonchalantly as he continued eating what was on his plate. She was wearing a white striped sweater dress that, while its high neckline unfortunately concealed her chest, the hem rested just above her mid thigh, showing off her long and slender legs.

As he took his last bite and began pouring a second glass of orange juice, the blue haired woman had made her way back around the table and sat down next to him, placing 2 full plates down.

Without even grumbling a "thank you", the Saiyan started on his third serving of breakfast. Trunks was still working on his first plate, and Bulma poured the baby and herself some juice as well. She was sitting so close he could smell her freshly showered skin, the scent reminiscent of her favorite fruit- strawberries, and just a hint of vanilla. Her thigh was resting against his and he was acutely aware of that fact, though if it affected her at all she didn't show it.

A few awkward seconds of silence passed before the woman spoke up. "So, how are you feeling Vegeta?"

The question made his skin crawl. He didn't need to be coddled as if he were weak, especially not by her. "Fine," he grunted between bites, not looking her in the eye.

"You don't have to lie to me you know," she annoyingly stated, then her voice dropped a few levels. "I saw how hurt you were last night. You should let me look at your wounds later to make sure they're healing properly."

At this he was taken a back. He didn't want her looking at his wounds, let alone tending to them. He didn't need to remind her of how weak he truly is. He scoffed, "I'm not sure how you got a look at them in the first place seeing as I don't remember inviting you into my bed last night." Underneath his chilling glare was a familiar spark in his dark eyes that Bulma had come to know well.

She smirked back at him and retorted, "You know you love having a beautiful woman sleeping with you Vegeta." She nonchalantly continued consuming her breakfast as his cheeks grew warm and darkened in color.

Well, she had him there.

A few more minutes of silence passed, just the three of them finishing their breakfast. It was almost long enough for Vegeta to enjoy the moment before the child next to him made a strange sound that caused the parents to snap their heads in his direction.

The baby's eyes were staring at his parents in silent panic, fists still clenching large amounts of food. Bulma jumped up and rushed to his side, snatching him out of his chair and turning his body so he was facing the floor. Vegeta watched from his seat at the table, frozen to it as the woman dealt firm blows to the child's back. What kept him paralyzed was that sound- a strangled coughing sound that he'd heard just the day before.

No longer was he looking at his infant son, but his grown one. He was seeing Future Trunks cradled in Bulma's arms, except he was choking on his own blood, not a sausage. He saw the crimson red spewing from his mouth and dribbling down his chin as his mother held his lifeless body. Tears were streaming down her face and she met eyes with the man in front of her "Why, Vegeta?" She sobbed. "Vegeta?"

"Vegeta?"

He blinked and the scene refreshed before him. The boy was back to his normal size, and while he appeared shaken by the ordeal, his eyes and face red from crying, he was otherwise fine. The woman holding him no longer had concern for him, but for the Saiyan in front of her. Her blue eyes gazed at him in confusion, and only now had he realized her hand was placed gently on his knee.

"I need some air," he gulped and stood uneasily from the table, excusing himself and stepping outside.

He didn't know if she had followed him or not, and to be honest he didn't care. He just needed to get out of there.

The prince took a few paces from the door and sat at a picnic table nearby under the shade of some trees. His head fell into his hands and his elbows pointed into his upper thighs.

What was happening to him? He didn't understand this feeling, this heaviness in his chest. It was suffocating, like he was surrounded by air but his lungs had evolved to needing a different substance and this oxygen was suddenly foreign to them. His heart was racing inside his chest and he tried to slow it, but without being able to breathe properly it was proving to be even more of a challenge. The edges of his vision were beginning to close in, his view becoming encased in a hazy vignette. He tried to blink it away, but all that fell were warm, salty tears.

In the distance he heard the door swing open and felt Bulma's ki drawing nearer. Without lifting his head, he felt her sit down on the bench next to him, her hand placing itself on his back this time.

"Trunks is fine," she spoke matter-of-factly. "He choked on a piece of sausage, but I got it out and he's upstairs with my mom now."

When he didn't react, she took a deep breath and continued. "I'm gonna ask you one more time Vegeta, and please be honest with me. How are you feeling? Not just physically, I mean what's going on inside your head?"

If he were being truthful, he had no idea what to tell her. How was he supposed to explain this torture of emotions he was suffering through? The feeling in his chest that made him want to physically reach into his body and manually return his heartbeat to a steady rhythm with his own hand?

His mouth could not find the words to explain these things, but as he cocked his head and peered up at the woman, his eyes spoke for him instead. What was normally hard and icy, featuring a glare that could cut through steel, was now softened by redness and tears, and apparent agony.

Bulma reacted before she could second guess herself, and she threw her arms around the Saiyan, burying his head into her chest. His arms didn't move, but she felt him shift his weight and lean into her embrace. "I'm here for you, Vegeta, even if you don't want me to be. I know the past few days have been insane for you, they've been insane for everyone. You don't have to keep it all bottled up, you can talk to me. I can't always pretend to understand exactly how you feel, but I can listen."

The man finally spoke, his harsh voice taking on a soft tone she'd yet to hear from him before. "I can't stop picturing him, laying there," he croaked. "I was so cruel to him. We spent 2 years together and I barely-" his voice hitched in his throat and he took another breath as not to begin sobbing again. He couldn't believe he was being this vulnerable to her, he didn't need to embarrass himself even further. He just felt so… safe in her presence, like she would never hurt him. So he continued.

"I just wish I could tell him how sorry I am."

"Well," she mirrored his deep breath, gaining courage to finish her sentence. "Good news is, you can if you want. He's upstairs."

Vegeta's eyes widened and he sat up to meet her eyes. "T-Trunks?" He stammered. "What is he doing here?"

"He came here last night after you were already asleep. He had just been revived with the dragon balls and basically just needed a place to crash for the night." She observed Vegeta's eyes as he took in and processed this information. "He'll be leaving shortly, I think he would appreciate it if you went and spoke to him before then."

The Saiyan sat up and straightened his shoulders, a more stoic look taking over his features.

"Where is he?"