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Friends	By : ladyvegeets Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ or the characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know. No profit is being made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.23 - Promise

“Oh, shit…”
Bulma came awake, blinking open her eyes at the expletive. She sat up stiffly and looked at the source of the swearing. Vegeta had a hand raised to his brow as if fighting off a headache. His eyes were still sunken and he looked pale, but no where near as white as he’d appeared while bleeding out by the fountain. And he was up, which was a very good sign.
“Vegeta!” Bulma exclaimed, her heart leaping to see him awake. She threw herself at him, hugging him about the neck and sobbing joyfully. “You scared me half to death, you asshole!”
“Ow,” Vegeta complained as she squeezed him in her tight embrace.
“Sorry, sorry!” she apologized, hastily letting him go. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
He blinked, frowning, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Am I… flying?”
Bulma stared at him in alarm. “…What?” she asked, sure she hadn’t heard him right.
Vegeta reached out as if trying to grab the air, frowning harder when he was unable to. “Or is the room spinning…?”
Bulma opened her mouth, then closed it. Her eyes darted to the drip that was in his arm. She looked back at Vegeta, cocking a brow in concern, and held up her hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
His eyes swiveled to her hand and he tried focusing, but his gaze ended up drifting past her, towards the doorway. He grunted and tried to push himself out of bed.
“Whoa, hey, you need to keep still,” Bulma insisted, pushing him back down, worried about his injuries.
“I need to find her,” he grunted, too weak to fight her, letting himself be pushed back against the bed.
“Find who?” Bulma asked, confused.
“Bulma,” Vegeta replied. Bulma’s eyes widened dramatically. Vegeta continued, not noticing her reaction. “She was here a moment ago,” he said, sounding agitated. “She was really worried, and… I think she was crying. I think I fucked up…”
Bulma watched him, stunned, as he talked about her without realizing it. She waved her hand in front of his face, but his eyes didn’t track the movement. She let her hand drop, sitting back, and a small smile tugged at her mouth. “Oh my god… you’re doped.”
“What? Tchhh. Am not,” he replied testily, his words slurring as if drunk.
Bulma snickered, leaning in and putting a finger to Vegeta’s chest. “You totally are.”
Vegeta looked at her offending finger, frowning at it in puzzlement. Then he looked right at her and asked, “Have you seen her?” he asked. Bulma had to resist laughing; he was totally serious. “She’s got this really unique blue hair and eyes, and pale skin, and she’s small, and weak, and almost never shuts up, and she’s really pretty… like you, actually,” he frowned at her, almost suspicious, but then he pressed on, looking around. “She was just here, I’m sure she was…”
Bulma felt her face grow hot, not sure if she should be flattered or offended. She shook her head in amazement. “You must be doped. You’d never say I looked pretty if you were sober.”
“I wouldn’t?” he asked, only half listening, still looking around the room.
“Nope,” Bulma said, giving him an amused half smile. “You’d probably say I look like shit.”
Vegeta turned his attention back on her. He frowned at her as he leaned in to examining her face, staring fiercely enough that Bulma could feel herself blushed harder. Finally, Vegeta said, “You’re right. You look like shit.”
Bulma scowled at him, her fists clenching. “Ohhh, boy, are you lucky you’re injured right now, or I’d slap you so har-”
“You’re tired,” he said bluntly, ignoring her fuming. He reached out and pointed at the bags under her eyes. “See? Here. You’re not taking good care of yourself. You should sleep, eat something, then you’ll feel better and not look so terrible.”
Bulma opened her mouth then closed it, her mind imploding. Is… is that what he meant, when he said she looked terrible? That he was concerned? Wow, of course that’s what he meant, she couldn’t believe she’d never put that together before.
“…You are such an idiot,” Bulma stammered at him, half furious, half embarrassed at his candid assessment. Vegeta didn’t seem to care, already having lost interest in her, his drug-addled mind unable to stay focused on one thing for long.
He tried to push himself up again. The effort only caused him to grab his gut with a grunt of pain. “Ow…”
“Don’t do that!” Bulma chastised, pushing him back against his pillows. “You got stabbed, don’t you remember? You need to take it easy.” Vegeta gave an aggravated sigh as she pushed him back down. He really must have been exhausted to not put up any resistance. He looked to where she was touching her hand on his chest, and he brought his fingers up to hers, touching her hand. He saw the ring she wore.
He frowned at the sight of it. “Oh… my mother had a ring just like this.”
Bulma rolled her eyes. “I know, dummy.”
Vegeta’s frown deepened and he looked suddenly upset. “…Fuck,” he said, his tone raw.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, half concerned, half amused; Vegeta was being so expressive, and she couldn’t help to find it endearing. Boy, was Vegeta going to hate himself when the pain killers wore off.
“I was going to give her that ring… It was the only thing I had to give her…” he said, looking genuinely dismayed.
“Her?” she asked. “You mean Bulma?”
Vegeta nodded miserably.
Bulma felt her heart constrict. “Vegeta, you idiot. You don’t have to give me, um, her anything.”
Vegeta shook his head woefully. “No, you wouldn’t understand. I had this one thing to give her, this one valuable possession from the only good person I ever knew in my life, and I was going to give it to Bulma because she’s the only other good person I’ve ever known…”
Bulma felt as though the air had been knocked out of her. “Sh-she is?” Bulma asked softly, barely able to form the words.
“Jesus, of course she is,” Vegeta insisted adamantly, scowling intensely. “For some reason I can’t fathom, Bulma trusts me and believes in me. D’you’ve any idea how fucking rare that is? No ones ever trusted me, but she does. I don’t know how the fuck I managed to get her… Or how I haven’t fucked it up yet, or why she hasn’t changed her mind…”
Bulma didn’t know what to say in the face of such raw honesty, and she felt a little guilty that Vegeta was pouring his heart out to her, knowing full well he did so because he was drugged. Bulma reached up to gently touch his cheek, bringing their heads together, touching brows. “Hey, it’s okay. She’s not going to change her mind, Vegeta. And you did give her your mother’s ring, you dumb-dumb. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh,” he said in a small voice, looking puzzled. “So… I didn’t chicken out?”
Bulma smirked, amused. Just how long had he been planning on giving her that ring, working himself up to it? “No, you didn’t chicken out, well, not exactly. I mean, you did put it on her when she was unconscious,” she pointed out, teasingly. When Vegeta made a sour face, Bulma hurriedly added, “But when she tried to return it, you didn’t take it back, so, that’s something, right? And she’s kept it on since.”
Vegeta’s mouth curled into a lopsided smile. “Huh. Does that mean she likes it?” he asked her.
Bulma’s smile softened, her heart hurting as it beat rapidly in her chest. She nodded against his brow, her fingers curling against his cheek. “Yeah, Vegeta, it’s beautiful. She loves it.”
She felt him relax against her. “Well, good. Of course she does,” he replied, looking pleased. Then his smile faded, and he tried to sit upright again, grunting in pain.
“Would you stop that!” Bulma protested, pushing him back down once again.
“Ugh, this place is vile,” Vegeta complained, looking about the room distrustfully. Bulma wondered if he was still experiencing the spins. He seemed less inclined to be pushed down this time, his hands fisting. “I need to find her. I think she’s in trouble.”
Bulma rolled her eyes. “She’s fine. You’re the one in trouble. You’re hurt, remember?”
“Am I?” he asked, looking down at himself. Vegeta’s chest was bare, allowing him to see the large bandage wrapped around his middle. His eyes widened in surprise. “Huh. Shit. What happened?”
Bulma shook her head, amazed at his cluelessness. He was on some good drugs. “Zarbon stabbed you, and I, er, that is, Bulma barely got to your stupid ass in time.”
Vegeta frowned and Bulma watched as he tried to remember getting stabbed. She eyed him carefully, and wondered if it would be considered taking advantage of him to try and press him for answers while he was high on morphine or whatever drugs they were feeding him.
Well, Bulma was never good at being patient. “Vegeta?” she asked slyly. “Do you remember what you said to m-, um, Bulma? On the phone?”
“Huh?” he asked, still distracted looking at his bandaged abdonmen.
“What you said to Bulma; you called her after you were stabbed, remember? You said,” Bulma hesitated, looking at him, but feeling shy she glanced away. “You said you loved her.”
Vegeta prodded his bandages. “I did? That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”
Bulma’s eyes darted to his, flashing with hurt. “So… you didn’t mean it?”
Vegeta grunted. “I didn’t say that.”
Bulma scowled, growing impatient. “Well, do you love her or not?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he snapped at her, looking at her with irritation in his black eyes. He pushed up and Bulma was too slow to stop him. Vegeta levered himself to the edge of the bed and, still weak and drugged, lost his balance. He fell onto the floor with a giant crash, pulling his sheets and the IV down with him.
“Oh-oh-ow, shit,” he groaned, curling up miserably on the ground.
Bulma hurried to him, shaking her head in exasperation. “You are such a fucking pain, do you know that?” she chastised.
“As are you, keeping me here against my will!” he snarled back, his words vicious but his voice weak. He tried to push up on trembling arms. “I have to find her, damnit! I can’t lose her. I can’t go back to that life, not now.”
Bulma sighed and tried to lever Vegeta up. “Stop being melodramatic. She’s right here you big dolt.”
Vegeta let her help him up and with some grunting, a lot of swearing and heavy lifting, they finally managed to get Vegeta back into bed. Bulma prayed he hadn’t torn open his wound. She checked his bandage but didn’t see any blood seeping through, not yet anyway. Vegeta was gritting his teeth, panting, the effort of getting back into bed having taxed what little strength he had. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, scrubbing at his face in frustration. He looked so wretched, Bulma couldn’t help pitying him.
“Why don’t you sleep. She’ll be back by then,” Bulma suggested, hoping he might recognize her after some rest.
Vegeta shook his head. “No. Where’s my phone?”
Bulma pulled his cell out of her pocket and handed it to him. He frowned at it, having trouble focusing on the screen. He finally figured out how to access her number and he brought the phone to his ear, his expression tight as it rang.
Bulma’s phone started vibrating. She left the room and stood out in the hallway by his door before answering. “Hello?”
“Bulma?”
“Yeah?”
There was a soft, relieved sigh on the phone. Bulma smirked and peered into the room. Vegeta had his eyes closed, already looking more relaxed to hear from her. What an idiot.
“Are you safe?” He asked her.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Did he still think they were at the fountain?
“Nothing, never mind. As long as you’re safe.”
“I am.”
“…”
“Vegeta?” she said softly.
“What?”
“Do you love me?” she asked, staring at the pale lime hospital wall, her heart in her throat. She had to know. She had to know if he’d meant what he said, that his confession had been real, not just something he’d said because he thought he was dying.
“What?” he asked, his voice strangled.
“It’s a simple question,” Bulma replied, looking down, her voice small, hurt. “I love you.”
Vegeta didn’t reply immediately. Worried, Bulma looked back into the room and saw he was staring up at the ceiling, his expression tight. Then he rolled on his side, huffing in agitation.
“I already said I did, didn’t I? Why are you making me say it again?”
Bulma clutched her chest, feeling a few happy tears of relief swell in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, smiling. “Because I want to hear it again. Please?”
“No.”
“Please, Vegeta?”
“No.”
“What, why not?” she huffed.
“I’m tired. Quit bugging me.”
“You called me, you jerk!” Bulma shouted back, putting a fist on her hip, having a good mind to storm back into his room and punch him.
Vegeta laughed softly, tiredly. “You’re such a prissy bitch.”
“Well you’re a stuck-up asshole!”
“Nosy woman.”
“Asshole! So help me God, Vegeta, I’m going to come over there an-“
“I love you, Bulma.”
Bulma’s mouth snapped shut as she fumed and blushed at the same time. “Th-that’s not fair, you cheater!”
“Mmm…” he replied sleepily, amused at her indignation.
Bulma looked in the room and saw the phone resting on the pillow by Vegeta’s head. His eyes were closed, and his breathing had evened out. He was almost asleep. Bulma sighed. “I love you too, Vegeta,” she said softly, staring at him hopelessly.
When she was sure he’d fallen asleep, she went in and turned off his phone. Exhausted, she curled up in the chair by his bed and tried to get more sleep for herself.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

Her dreams was disturbed by the sensation of someone tugging at her clothes. Half asleep, Bulma didn’t struggle as her shirt was lifted off. She made an unhappy sound, not wanting to wake up yet, still weary.
Whoever was undressing her stopped. Happy that she was no longer being disrupted, Bulma started to slip back into sleep when she heard an odd, gargling sound. She frowned. The sound persisted, and she felt compelled to open her eyes. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sight in front of her.
Both Raditz and Vegeta were before her, but she never could have imagined the scene that was unfolding before her. Vegeta’s hands were wrapped around Raditz’s throat, choking Raditz to his knees. Raditz was clawing desperately at Vegeta’s hands, trying to pry the injured boy off even as his knees buckled, choking and struggling for air. Vegeta watched Raditz struggle, a murderous, unforgiving expression on his face.
Panicking, Bulma leapt to her feet and placed her hands on Vegeta’s bulging arms. “Vegeta, stop it!”
“He was undressing you,” Vegeta said, his voice unnervingly calm. He didn’t even look at her, his ferocious gaze only on Raditz as his fingers squeezed tighter. Raditz gaped for air.
“And that’s reason enough to murder him?!” Bulma shouted back as she watched Raditz’s face turn people in Vegeta’s grip. “He’s a friend, don’t you remember him?”
“So that makes it okay for him to molest you while you sleep?” Vegeta asked, his gaze swinging on to her, his black eyes seething. Dark rings still lined his eyes from anemia and exhaustion, adding a demented quality to his expression. As he glared at her, Raditz still suffocated in his grip.
“Vegeta, let him go!” Bulma demanded furiously.
Vegeta sneered but finally complied, letting go of Raditz’s throat. The older boy dropped to his knees with a ragged gasp, sucking in much needed air. He started coughing hard, desperately trying to fill his lungs.
Bulma glared at Vegeta. His eyes met hers angrily, his gaze focused, his attitude different from earlier. He was back to his normal, if not even crankier, self. She noticed the IV drip was still on the floor from when he’d knocked it down previously, and it occurred to her she’d never called a nurse to set up a new drip. That meant Vegeta was unmedicated, no longer loopy from drugs, but he was also likely in a lot of pain.
“Vegeta, lie down, you need to heal,” she said, trying to soften her tone and the atmosphere with it.
Vegeta ignored her, one hand clutching his gut while he turned to glare down at the coughing boy on the floor. He frowned at Raditz disdainfully. “He’s the one from the party,” Vegeta spat, finally recognizing Raditz.
“Yes, ‘Raditz’,” Bulma reminded him, crouching down by Raditz to pat the older boy on the back and make sure he was going to live. “Are you okay?” she asked him.
Raditz’s coughing was subsiding, his color returning to normal. “Yeah,” he croaked hoarsely. “Peachy.” Raditz glanced up at Vegeta with an irritated look. “Dude, she was covered in blood. I was just-” he tried to explain, but stopped when another coughing fit overtook him.
Vegeta curled his lip in displeasure, but didn’t reply. Bulma saw that there was sweat on his temples, and his face had turned an ashen pallor. The hand that wasn’t clutching his gut had reached out to steady himself on the end of the bed. Vegeta had severely overextended himself trying to protect her from her ‘molester’. He looked like he was going to pass out at any moment. Bulma shook her head, not sure if she should be impressed or exasperated that Vegeta was constantly pushing his limits for her safety. Either way, she couldn’t really stay mad at him, not when he thought he’d been safeguarding her.
“Lie down, you big oaf. Raditz can be trusted,” she tried to reassure Vegeta, and glanced back at Raditz. He gave her an apologetic look, and held up his jacket that was on the floor from where he’d dropped it after Vegeta had jumped him. Bulma saw Raditz had only meant to put her in cleaner clothing, although she’d have to talk to him later about undressing her while she slept. Vegeta wasn’t wrong to think that wasn’t okay, even if Raditz had been acting out of kind intentions. But she didn’t need to say any of that in front of Vegeta and get him more worked up.
Bulma took the jacket and started to slip it on. She heard an aggravated sound and looked up to see Vegeta glaring at her incredulously, appalled she was putting on Raditz’s clothing. “What?” she asked him, vexed. “What else am I supposed to put on?”
Vegeta reached out and snatched the jacket out of her hands, throwing it back at Raditz unceremoniously. He then snatched up the blanket on the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders even though he still looked like he was going to be sick from the effort of moving about.
“Vegeta, I can’t wear this outside,” Bulma protested softly.
“Why, are you planning on leaving?” he asked her, and something about the way he asked, his tone oddly possessively, made her blush furiously. She looked down, unable to meet his or Raditz’s gaze. Vegeta was right, she wasn’t going to go anywhere.
Raditz, who had finally recovered from the attack, staggered to his feet. “Well,” he croaked, rubbing his neck. “It’s been lovely visiting, but I know when I’m not wanted.”
Bulma glanced up at him, feeling guilty but not sure why. “You’re going?” she asked.
Raditz nodded, his expression unusually hard. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” he looked at Vegeta, his brows pulling down, his mouth thinning. “I guess I was worried for nothing.” He looked back at her. “So, have you told him yet?”
Vegeta’s head whipped up, eyes narrowing. “Told me what?”
Bulma’s hand clutched the blanket tighter about her, giving Raditz an annoyed look. “How could I? He just woke up.”
“Told me WHAT?” Vegeta insisted, in no mood to be talked about.
Raditz looked over at him, ignoring Bulma’s glare. “That Frieza paid your girl a visit while you were dying on her. And that he had a message for you.”
Vegeta’s expression darkened considerably, his eyes turning cold and darting to Bulma, but she looked away, unable to face him.
The three of them stood awkwardly, silent. Raditz pulled his jacket back on, breaking the silence first. “Alright then. Bulma, do you need anything before I go?” he asked her. Bulma shook her head, looking at her feet. “Fine. Well… I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Raditz looked back at Vegeta. “That is, if the Icejin don’t get to you first.”
Vegeta narrowed his eyes at Raditz. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Raditz gave an apathetic shrug. “Just sayin’. If she was my girl, I wouldn’t be getting her roped up in all this ugly gang business, that’s for sure.”
“Raditz!” Bulma hissed, startled by his antagonistic words. It was unlike him to be so confrontational, he was usually so easy going. Vegeta glowered at him, clenching his teeth, although she suspected it was partly in pain as much as in agitation.
“Yeah yeah, I’m leaving,” Raditz said, waving at them over his shoulder as he left the hospital room.
Bulma watched Raditz leave, a myriad of emotions swirling inside her. She looked back to Vegeta who was still leaning against the bed, sweating, his face pinched in pain and irritation. He looked away from the door to turn his glare back onto her.
“What message?” Vegeta asked again, his voice low.
Bulma sighed, pushing her hair back, letting her gaze slip away. “You need to lie down first.”
Vegeta must have been hurting because he didn’t protest, and got back into bed. He scowled at her until she told him everything that had happened. His expression grew darker, closing off as she relayed Frieza’s message. Bulma felt her heart squeeze in trepidation, nervous about how Vegeta would react. After all, every time they’d talked seriously about the Icejin, it always came back to one thing: revenge at any cost.
Vegeta lay on his back, one hand still on his bandaged stomach while he glared up at the ceiling, his jaw working in agitation. When she finished telling him everything, he asked, “Is that all?”
Bulma nodded. “Vegeta-”
“You should go home,” he cut her off. “You need to rest, change.”
“Change? I’M NOT EVEN WEARING ANYTHING THANKS TO YOU,” she indicated the blanket hotly. Vegeta glanced at her, then back at the floor where her bloody shirt lay that Raditz had removed. Bulma followed his eyes and scowled, guessing he meant for her to put it back on. Before she could protest that line of thinking, he spoke again.
“Bulma, go home,” he repeated. “You look as awful as I feel.”
She felt as if she’d been kneed in the gut. He was shutting her out. She shook her head stubbornly. “No, I’m fine, I’m staying here.”
Vegeta looked away from her with a scowl. “I don’t want you here,” he said callously. “I need some privacy.”
Bulma sucked in a sharp breath. “Y-you don’t mean that…”
“Go home Bulma, or I’ll have them throw you out for impersonating as my wife.”
Bulma felt the ground drop out from beneath her. Her lip quivered, her hands fisting in the her blanket. She knew Vegeta was upset, he had every right to be, but that he was pushing her away yet again, after all the progress they’d made… it was too much. Bulma got up, her stomach churning. “Fine, Vegeta, I’ll go. But you can’t push me away forever. Not anymore. I’m already involved whether you like it or not, so shutting me out isn’t going to help,” she told him hotly as she grabbed her bloody shirt and angrily pulled it back on. “And what’s more, I’m tired of us only being together when it’s convenient for you, you dumb, stupid, selfish jerk!”
She felt tears build, and she turned to go before Vegeta could see them, but she was too late. He tried to sit up, wincing in pain as he did, and reached for her. “Bulma, wait-”
She didn’t. She was too upset, too furious to face him after he’d cut her so deeply. She hurried to leave the room but ran into someone standing in the doorway, blocking her exit. Bulma wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up, surprised to see Yamcha there, Goku and the others standing behind him.
“Bulma?” Yamcha asked, his expression twisting in concern when he saw her tears and blood soaked outfit. “Raditz called us and said you were…”
Bulma shook her head, unable to explain the situation. She pushed past Yamcha and the others, fleeing down the hall as Yamcha glared into Vegeta’s room.
“I guess she still has a thing for assholes who make her cry,” Yamcha said sarcastically.
Vegeta ignored him, staring furiously at the wall.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

Bulma went home and took a long, hot shower, calming down at the water washed away her dirt and anger down the drain. After she changed, she packed a bag for Vegeta, putting in some clothes and his gameboy. She was sorting through his games when she came across a box with a blue haired female character on the front. Curious, Bulma opened it up, but there was no game inside. Odd. She was about to put the box back on the shelf when something caught her eye. She tipped the box upside down, and out drifted a long strand of blue hair. Her hair.
Bulma stared at it, numb. How, why did he have a strand of her hair? She suddenly recalled one of their first meetings, when she’d given him her hair to prove her natural color to him. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets afterwards. Had he kept her hair, all that time?
She didn’t know what to think. Vegeta blew so hot and cold, endearing one minute, cold and dismissive the next. It was so frustrating and tiresome and Bulma was feeling ragged from the emotional rollercoaster he’d been tugging her along.
Bulma heard a noise downstairs. She put the hair back in the game box and headed downstairs to investigate. When she reached the front of the house she saw her parents coming inside with their luggage. “Mama? Papa?” They weren’t supposed to back for a couple weeks yet.
“Honey, are you okay?” Mrs. Briefs asked, coming over and sweeping Bulma up in a hug. “Is Vegeta still in the hospital, poor pet?”
Bulma’s eyes widened, surprised, and she looked over her mother’s shoulder to her father.
“The health insurance company called,” Dr. Briefs explained, giving his daughter a kind smile. “It seems the two of you can’t stay out of trouble for long, does it? First you in the hospital, now Vegeta? We decided we needed to cut our vacation short and check in on you two kiddos before you got yourselves killed.”
Bulma felt a lump in her throat, and she swallowed back tears. She hugged her mother, then her father, grateful for their support. Bulma told them what had happened - well, a very brief, watered down version of events so as not to alarm them too much, and thankfully they didn’t ask too many questions. They were simply happy to know that Vegeta was recovering from his ‘accident’.
They gave her a ride back to the hospital and let her go in alone, sensing she needed some alone time with Vegeta.
Bulma walked through the hospital slowly, her feet dragging, dreading to see Vegeta after their fight. She wasn’t sure she could take his cold shoulder routine much longer. As she approached his room, she heard voices. Curious, Bulma slowed and peeped through the door, astounded at what she saw. Vegeta was sitting up in bedand talking to, of all people, Goku.
“Oh, hey Bulma!” Goku said cheerily, spotting her in the doorway. “C’mon in.”
Bulma gave Goku a weak smile, then looked at Vegeta. He was looking better, less pale and the dark lines under his eyes were almost gone. There were empty trays of food nearby, indicating he’d eaten since she’d left. He glanced her way, eyeing her over, then looked away.
Goku seemed to take her arrival as his cue to leave. He got up, patting Vegeta on the shoulder which Vegeta took amazingly well. Goku walked over to her, smiling warmly. “Don’t look so worried, Bulma. The doctor checked up on him while you were gone. Vegeta’s healing A-OK and should be home in a couple days,” he informed her.
Bulma nodded her head, glad for the update, although her mind still boggled to be receiving the news from Goku. Vegeta always bitched about Goku and barely tolerated the boy, to think the two of them had been hanging out all this time was… incredible. “Thanks, Son.”
Goku smiled and left them alone. Bulma stood in the doorway awkwardly for a moment before finally stepping inside, putting Vegeta’s bag on the chair nearby his bed. “I brought you some clothes and games,” she announced.
Vegeta was still looking away, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Bulma couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or feeling. As usual. She felt an uncomfortable pain swell inside her, gripping her throat tightly.
“If you don’t want me to stay…” she started to say, but her throat closed up before she could finish. She hated that she was so emotional around him.
Without warning, Vegeta reached out and took her wrist. He held her in his grip, his brow furrowing, his mouth tight. He was still looking away when he spoke to her. “… Sorry.”
Bulma stared at him in shock, disbelief washing over her. “What?” she asked, stunned. Vegeta had apologized?
He finally looked up at her, and at last she could see his eyes. They looked forlorn. “Don’t go.”
Bulma thought her knees might give out. She nodded and sank down on the side of the bed. He looked away, but not before she saw the relief wash over him. He looked troubled, struggling to find words to express himself with. He was still holding her hand, and his thumb started rubbing circles on her wrist. It sent little thrills of pleasure through her that she tried hard to ignore, still upset at him. “What’s going on, Vegeta?” she asked quietly, gently encouraging him to open up.
Vegeta frowned down at his blankets. When at last he spoke, his tone was sad. “I’m running out of time.”
“For what?” Bulma asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Vegeta shook his head, frustrated. “For Frieza. Either I make a move, or he will. And if Frieza moves first, we’re all fucked.” He looked back at her, his expression twisting, becoming pained. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. He could kill you, my father, your parents, or someone else we know just for the hell of it, and he’d get away with it too. Worse, he could take you somewhere nobody could reach, and threaten to harm you so that he could manipulate me and your family into doing whatever he wanted…” Vegeta looked away, scowling, furious at the power Frieza held, and his inability to fight it. “I can’t let that happen. I’d die before I let him touch you.”
Bulma felt hopelessness overcome her. There was that word again, die. Her hand fisted in his grip, and she yanked it away angrily, barely resisting slapping him. “Did I ask you to die for me? Because I don’t remember doing that,” she snapped.
He looked at her, surprised by her vehemence. Then he scowled. “You’re not supposed to ask. A man protects what’s important to him, no matter what.”
Bulma thumped her fists against her thighs, trying to hold on to her rage, because if she didn’t she felt like she was going to drown in hopelessness. “And a woman can’t?” she shouted. “I don’t want you to die because of me. I’d never forgive you. I’d never get over it.”
“Yes you would,” he insisted calmly. “You’re strong.”
The brutality of his words hit her hard. Bulma started crying, hating him passionately in that moment. He wasn’t considering the impact his death would have on her. For him, his death was a non issue, a simple, logical answer to a troubling problem. For her, his death was the end of her world. Life could never be the same for her without Vegeta in it, not now.
She hit his shoulder with her tiny fist, and he didn’t try to stop her. “You idiot! I don’t want to be strong without you!” she cried out, sobbing. “I don’t want you to protect me by dying, I want you to protect me by living!” She hit him again and again until she lost all her strength and fell against him, crying inconsolably. He brought his arms up and hugged her, but he didn’t say the words she so desperately wanted to hear that would reassure her. Was he really so determined to die?
“Y-you said you loved me,” she sobbed. She felt him stiffen in embarrassment, but she pressed on. “I-if you love me, promise me one thing. Promise you won’t throw your life away for revenge, or for me.”
“I can’t do that, Bulma.”
“V-Vegeta!”
He made an agitated sound. “Damnit, Bulma, what would you have me do? I’m done living as their pawn, and I’m done with them using people for their benefit. If I could wish for immortality to defeat them I would, but this is the real world. If fighting them to the death will keep you safe, then so be it.”
“Do you think I care more about my safety if it means your death? Do you not even remember how you ended up in this hospital?” she said, laughing darkly. “To hell with my safety!”
Vegeta’s hands tightened on her. “Exactly. That’s why I have to keep your stupid ass safe, because you’re going to get yourself in trouble, you don’t use your damn head around me, despite your genius.”
Bulma fisted her own hands, frustrated. “I am a genius,” she replied, her voice thick with anger and tears. “And as a genius, I’m telling you that you’re not even trying!” she shouted. “Promise me you’ll at least try to stay alive. There has to be a way we can take them out that won’t end in some suicidal blood bath.”
“Bulma…”
“Promise me!” She screamed, pulling back and looking at him, her face wet with tears, her eyes wild with the fear of losing him. “Think, Vegeta. You’re not alone anymore, and you’re much stronger than when you lived with them. We can defeat them. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate victory, to beat them and survive, to live a happy life, free of them?” She saw Vegeta consider her words, scowling in thought. Daring to hope, Bulma pressed on. “Surely they have a weakness? They think they have the upper hand, that they know you, well you know them too. There must be something we can exploit, or do, or negotiate, some way we can be rid of them safely, without sacrificing our lives in the process?”
Vegeta looked at her, his face warring with emotions, a spark in his eyes she’d never seen before. He glanced at the chair Goku had been occupying earlier, and something changed in his demeanor. His posture straightened, his eyes growing determined. He took her head in his palms, and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Alright,” he said softly. “I promise.”
Bulma’s breath hitched. Part of her didn’t believe him, terrified he was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear. “R-really?”
He gave her a serious look and nodded. “That idiot friend of yours said there’s a big MMA tournament coming up. I know the one. Ginyu will be there.”
Bulma sniffed. “Who?”
“Ginyu,” Vegeta repeated. “He’s what you’d call Icejin elite, and probably the strongest person I know, after Frieza. He competes and wins all those events. I can make a stand against the Icejin safely there, they won’t be able to do anything underhanded, not with so many witnesses.”
Bulma frowned, confused. “I don’t understand. How will fighting Ginyu in an MMA tournament help us?”
“A couple reasons,” Vegeta explained, starting to smile. “First of all, the Icejins bet a lot of money at these events, so we can take advantage of that somehow. And second of all, when I beat his best fighter, Frieza will know I’m coming for him next. If I can put on a good enough show of strength, he might choose to make a deal, rather than risk a power struggle.”
Bulma grimaced. “That… doesn’t sound very safe.”
“Tch, nothing about Frieza is safe,” Vegeta said scathingly. He frowned and thought for a while. “We’ll place a bet,” he finally said, coming up with an idea. “We’ll use your family’s wealth to place a huge bet on me,” he suggested, flashing her an uncertain look. When she didn’t protest the use of her family funds, he continued, encouraged. “The odds will be against me, I didn’t do well in last year’s tournament, so if I win this year, the payout would be huge. Too huge, Frieza won’t be able to pay. We’ll use the debt to ransom freedom for me and my father.”
Bulma wasn’t sure she was as enthusiastic about the plan as Vegeta was, it sounded like there were still too many holes and unknowns. But they had time to iron out the details, and what was more important was that, for the first time, Vegeta was talking positively about the future, including her in his plans, and considering a scenario where he didn’t have to die in order to win his freedom and get his revenge. Bulma smiled and nodded at him in support. “I know you can do it, we can do it. I know you can win.”
Vegeta pressed his brow to hers, and his mouth twisted up in a cruel smirk. “I’ll do more than win. I’ll crush them.”
Bulma felt a flicker of fear, not for herself, but for the Icejin. She pitied whoever was going to try and stand in Vegeta’s way. She smiled and pressed her nose into his cheek, and his expression instantly softened, thoughts of vengeance fading as he turned his attention wholly on her. He stroked her cheek, his gaze growing affectionate.
“I dreamt you were gone,” he admitted softly.
Bulma smiled, pressing against him. “I know. You were looking hard for me.”
He gave her a puzzled look, surprised she knew. Before he could ask questions, she pressed her lips to his, and he soon kissed her back. They curled up together on the bed, getting comfortable and making out, letting their passions sweep everything else away, until all that remained was them, and a promise Bulma was determined she would make Vegeta keep.

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AN: Anne Elizabeth, aka batcreditcard, drew Raditz and Lucy on twitter if you guys wanna check it out. ;)
My job has been ramping up a little lately, so chapter updates might take an extra day or two to come out, so sorry about that.
On an unrelated note, I signed up for Tumblr and have no idea what I’m doing there, but I guess you can follow me if you want. I dunno if I’ll use it much tho, twitter seems much nicer, TBH. I also finally got around to getting an Archive of our Own account too, so I’ll be putting up my fics there as well as here, thanks to some of your suggestions from a while back ;)
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