The remoteness in Vegeta's voice contrasted significantly from before. Now that Trunks had seen both sides, he understood exactly how scared the man was.

"She'll get through this in great shape. I have faith."

"We don't know that yet, Trunks," Vegeta said tersely. He exhaled, glancing at him. "For me, faith must be grounded in evidence. I believe in myself because the evidence shows I will do what it takes to achieve. I can support Bulma's health, but there's no surety that my efforts will be enough. Each day that passes before she gives birth, I... I...I..."

"Give me knife so I can finish up that melon."

"I'm fine, Trunks. I'll finish."

"Father, look at me," Trunks ordered. "Give me the knife."

Vegeta accepted that he hadn't made much progress with his task. His heart ached at the thought of his wife or daughter becoming sick or dying, but he hadn't felt secure enough to share the magnitude with anyone else until then. "You're making a pest of yourself, son. I dare you to slice better melon cubes than mine."

Trunks stuck an apple wedge into his mouth while Vegeta folded his apron neatly on the countertop. He suspected that Vegeta hadn't noticed how casually he used "son" as they talked. He was wrong.

I spent two long years in the hyperbolic time chamber listening to this man holler and bitch like a wacko. But I still learned so much. Now he's wearing a fucking kitchen smock. Mom and that baby girl are going to break him. God knows I hope they do. Then… he won't have to worry anymore.

"Your mother's smoking is making it tougher to control her diabetes. It will kill her."

"She didn't have a cigarette while you were in the lab, did she?"

"No."

"That's a satisfactory beginning, then. Usually, she blows through several smokes in the amount of time you spent together. Like you said, she's not a child. She will love this lunch, though. Let's go."

"Hang on." Vegeta blocked the kitchen door. "I… see how troubled you've been. My wife and I discussed it the night before I left with you. What else can our family – your family - do to help?"

"You wife gave me every piece of new research and equipment she says will be necessary to treat mom's diabetes and help her stop smoking. After you chewed me out earlier about not knowing, I figured we'd talk about it later anyway."

"I am glad I came," Vegeta replied.

Trunks didn't want show too much emotion, but it was a struggle. "That means the world to me. I appreciate you visiting her. Damn it. Give me a few minutes. I need to…"

Vegeta gripped Trunks' shoulders, staring eye-to-eye. "You need to stay here. Do you think I haven't seen my kid cry before? After he does, the boy insists that he'll kick my ass around the planet one day. At least you had the pleasure of blasting me across thirty percent of it first."

That event with Cell transformed the nature of their relationship forever.


"You're wrong father! You can't let Cell reach his final form! There's a good chance that he'll become stronger than us!"

"But that's the thrill, Trunks! Don't you want to see this power he keeps talking about?"

"No! I've seen it all my life! I've lived through the horrors a force like that creates, and I won't let it happen in this time too! Even if it means taking you down!"

"You? Stop me? Hah! I know you don't have the guts to challenge your own dear father. Your feelings will stop you. That's what makes you weak. Wait. What are you doing?! AAHHHH!"

"Bastard. You forced me to do that."


"It like you're a completely different asshole – erm, I meant man."

"You didn't say I'm a changed man altogether, Trunks, because I've shown you that I'm not. But I have learned."

"I could have killed you."

"You were aiming to, and you don't regret it. I got in your way."

"You're right, father. I have no regrets. You fucked around and found out."

Vegeta's death glare matched the intensity of his genuine laughter. "I did. Well done, brat."

The three of them spent another day together touring coastal sites. Trunks guided everyone to the promontory where the adult Gohan trained him. Bulma, wearing a sundress and straw hat, wandered off to find seashells and greet a cluster of starfish occupying a kelp bed.

Trunks and Vegeta threw rock pebbles far into the sea as they talked. "I'm sure my other mom is eager to see you. We'll leave tonight."

"Like I told your mother yesterday, Trunks, you have choices."

Trunks held his breath, picking up on Vegeta's hint. "You're taking this too far, father."

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't mean it."

Trunks rubbed his arms, departing from the rock's edge. "Mom and I just can't pack up and go. Too many people depend on us. You wouldn't desert your own planet. How can you ask that of me? And you're going to be a dad again. After all we've accomplished here in a short time, I don't think mom can handle anything like that emotionally."

"After you went to bed last night, your mother asked me directly if Bulma was pregnant. I have no clue how she figured it out, but I told her the truth."

"That doesn't mean she wants to see it up close!"

"She does. You both can live at our estate as long as you want. A year, two years, whatever."

Trunks sighed. "We couldn't do it anyway if we desired to. This is the last period that I'm using the time machine."

"Because?"

"Before Babadi and Dabura killed them in my timeline, Supreme Kai Shin and Kibito granted five round trips. It was their protective gift, which they petitioned their peers and superiors for because mom and I violated cosmic law. We didn't know that we had. Since mom built the machine, she will face profound consequences if we exceed our allocation, so I'm saving the other four."

Vegeta's eyes trailed Bulma's footprints in the sand. "Shouldn't your mother share in that decision?"

"Would you allow your own wife to gamble with her welfare like that?"

"I don't allow my wife to do anything. She chooses, like I do. We argue and then one of us settles on an approach to work things out. There is no other way for iron-willed people like us."

"Ready to go?" Bulma shouted, waving at them.

"I'll think about it, father." Trunks sailed off the promontory, leaving Vegeta behind. "We're ready, mom!"

On their way home, they alighted in a forest about ten miles from the beach. A grove of old, gnarled trees and bushes stood out among other florae. Stacks of weathered rocks had been deposited here and there, some with names carved on them. Mother and son carried baskets of purple hydrangeas, placing the flowers around the modest memorial site.

Vegeta hung back to give them privacy. He deduced that their friends and extended families weren't all buried there, likely due to how much damage the androids inflicted as well as the danger involved.

But Gohan and Piccolo's graves were there, along with the warrior bearing his name.

He understood why Goku's son retrieved Piccolo's body – under significant threat, since Gohan was still a child then – but him?

The boy did it for Trunks and Bulma. Damn it. He could have been killed on the spot.

The gruesome truth was young Gohan only salvaged Vegeta's skull and arms. Murdering the prince wasn't enough for the androids - they ripped him apart afterward. Gohan capsulized the mutilated remains before telling Bulma. He wouldn't let her see them.

Bulma and Trunks, who were holding hands, moved for Vegeta to stand between them. Neither expected him to speak, which he didn't. After a few minutes, his head bowed at Gohan and Piccolo's graves. Then he left.

Within a few hours the time machine prepared for takeoff. Trunks found an excuse to give Vegeta and Bulma extra time to talk while he thought over all they had done together.

"Mom, I need to get a few things inside the house. Give me about ten minutes, father."

Vegeta's thumb brushed across his wedding ring. His charcoal-black body suit made him a striking figure in the sunset. "That's fine, Trunks."

Bulma reached into her tattered beach bag. "Here, take this capsule. It contains a letter to your wife and something else for you. I've changed my mind about coming."

"I have what I need," he said, handing it to her. "Just give me the letter. You don't have to –"

"I don't have to, but I am," she said, pressing Vegeta's hand onto his chest. "You took solemn vows with that ring right there. Each time you leave her to fight, do your damnedest to return. Never forget that she deserves the respect and freedom to ensure that you can. Promise me. Promise me."

Vegeta nodded as she walked away. "Bulma, did he see you before he died?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "He said, 'I'm coming back.'"


Dear Bulma,

You might think I'm being facetious when I tell you that I am one of your biggest fans, considering we haven't met. My son has long entertained me with stories about your cheeky, incisive humor. We're not so different in that regard, though Trunks says your wit has more tartness than mine.

I've pondered how you're feeling about Vegeta coming here, especially since you're so close to giving birth. He kept the news private until I asked - not so much for himself, I'm sure, but for me. As expected, he didn't ask how I cracked his code of silence. This one, however, wasn't so complex. But like you, solving puzzles is an extension of the Brief family's genius.

Vegeta's personality exudes a confident ease despite his sharpness. Every time he mentioned you, he paused a little. Each lull, in my view, represented memory threads from the embroidery of your relationship. The merging of your heart with that of a Saiyan hasn't been clear-cut or pain-free, undeniably. Yet I saw Vegeta intimately understands the stakes. To bring honor to himself, he must honor your sacrifices and family until the day he dies. That's how it should be. He made a promise to me, and I expect him to follow it.

I miss the man I loved, but my heart doesn't sting as much anymore. Trunks and I will never know how the relationship would have progressed. Vegeta might have retreated further into his dark, angry and lonely void again, rejecting us altogether. But I am certain of my triumphs without him: I lived my life, continued working and raised and loved our son – much like you.

To witness your husband committed to being the partner you deserve is inspiring. I'm so proud of you. Thank you for sharing the fruits of your labor – and enduring kindness - with me and my son.

She left the envelope open, presumably for Vegeta to read the letter too. He sealed it before giving it to his wife.