Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Saiyan For All Seasons ❯ The Road to Recovery ( Chapter 20 )

A Saiyan For All Seasons

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

The Road to Recovery

 

Thank you LisaB for beta-ing. <3

******************************

 

 

Never before had such conflicting emotions been stirred in Bulma in such a short amount of time. She could hardly remember her dreary entrance to the building in the rain, with her spirits so depressed. Compare that to her feelings now! Vegeta was undoubtedly the indulgence her frayed nerves craved, and the satisfaction he brought her was quite incredible. There was a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach, a wonderful flush that was mirrored in scarlet across her cheeks. She stared at Vegeta on the holographic screen, feeling every bit the slut she had once boasted to him of being. He watched her too. His complexion was untouched by the encounter, but he was sprawled lazily across the bed with a sated, content, and dare she say, even amenable look. She didn't want to look away; she was scared - scared that reality would creep back in and destroy the feeling that was indomitably bursting its way through her body.

 

“Well,” he said, sitting up and resting his arms on raised knees. “That did it for me.” He chuckled deeply. “Bulma Briefs really is a whore.”

 

“And don't you forget it, buddy!” She winked and stretched catlike along the leather office chair. “Suddenly I feel much stronger. I wonder what it is about the post-orgasmic sensation that makes you feel like you can take on the world?”

 

“Or the universe.”

 

“Hm… well I guess you know all about that feeling.”

 

“It is like nothing any mere human will ever know. But neither the pleasure nor the power is ever so gratifying as when there is a real selfishness involved, combined with a wilful disregard for consequences in the pursuit of it. Never forget, Bulma, about my ambitions, or the lengths I will go to reach them. I've warned you before and I will warn you again about my views on that matter.”

 

“I have my eyes wide open.”

 

“So you say.”

 

“So I know,” she corrected.

 

He scowled, obviously unconvinced. “You have been honest enough with me in the past. That I won't deny, but there are enough fine words in the universe to make a fool out of anyone. Does title, species or power make me any less susceptible than most?”

 

Bulma sighed. After all this time and after all her efforts, Vegeta still didn't trust her. “I guess not.”

 

“Don't imagine me ignorant, Bulma. You dislike my thoughts, but that doesn't change the fact that I find myself plagued by them, and I will not lie to you about it. Do you remember when I was on your planet last, before the child was born? I told you that I would not have any time to think on important matters before the arrival of the Androids. You knew at the time that it was so, and I used that to my advantage, but now I find that I was wrong to do so. There is something about space travel that allows you to clear all distractions and think unpolluted by any situation around you. It has done so for me, and now I find that I know exactly what I have to do.”

 

He paused. Bulma longed to probe further but her heart was beating so fast against her chest that she couldn't find the breath to reply.

 

“You have no curiosity then,” he continued. “You have no wish to ask me more about it? Well… so be it. I had thought you would demand an explanation from me, but I am strangely thankful that you haven't. I will return to Earth before too long and when I arrive I will be better able to say my piece. I will, however, tell you that I have been formulating an improved training strategy for the Androids. It will require enhancements to my training capsule, but I hope they will allow me to train on your planet without my Super Saiyan form being detected. I paid a visit to one of Frieza's old haunts a few weeks ago and stumbled on a rather interesting piece of technology. I have a list of what is required, and I will send you the blueprints through the relay later.”

 

“I'll let Dad know.”

 

“No!” His deep voice echoed around the circular spacepod. “Your father has proved himself competent and obliging with upgrades, but I have no use for his services in this matter. It would be completely counter-productive for him to do so. I want you to work on it, and no one else.”

 

Bulma was shocked. “Me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But you refuse to let me anywhere near your training capsule, and I know very little about it. With Trunks and the business to deal with, I don't have much spare time. If you want the best, Vegeta, then keep Dad working on it. He designed it, he built it, and now he is retired so he can give it his undivided attention.”

 

“Then the prospect of helping me is repellent to you, is it Bulma?” His voice rose with his temper. “I thought your sheer pigheadedness when it came to ignoring the evil in me would extend to more than just the cheap thrill of a good fuck!”

 

“Don't be an arse, Vegeta. You know it does!”

 

“Then prove it!” he urged. “You said yourself that you felt like you could take on the world. I am telling you not to step back from that challenge!” He walked from the bed until he was so close to the camera that his entire face filled the screen. “I'm telling you, Bulma, that I want you and no one else but you working on it. Understand it, deal with it, and comply with it.”

 

Bulma lost herself in those eyes as they waited for her to answer. He was deadly serious about this. There was no denying it. He wanted his victory over the Androids to be absolute, and now he was asking for her help to achieve it. It was a somewhat frightening sensation, but a glorious one as well! Dear god, she was a fool for him! Inviting him into her home all those months ago had been a risk of gigantic proportions, but her “better the devil you know” theory had proved successful, and something about the man behind the façade had always promised to make good on that gamble. Now she had the chance to invest everything she had in her belief of him. She wouldn't be human if it didn't daunt her a little. To deny him, however, would be to extract herself from his life completely, and Bulma wasn't about to do anything so utterly stupid.

 

“I don't know how I will do it,” she replied honestly, “but I will find a way. I promise you.”

 

He seemed pleased with this, and the anger drained from him completely. He smirked at her, and that one gesture confirmed her madness and all the faith she put in it. How could a man that dark and tainted, that unforgiving, look so breathtakingly handsome? It shouldn't be possible. She smiled at him through the camera, determined to cement the contract in some physical way.

 

“I will be back on Earth in two months,” he said a moment later. He turned his back on the camera and walked back to the bed. “With the modifications done I will train at my full capacity until those Androids arrive.” He slammed his fist into the wall and turned just enough to make eye contact with her once more. “I will finally be able to test the Legendary, and I won't disappoint you, Bulma. I will take on the universe and I will win!”

 

The video connection was lost, but the plans for improving his space capsule were sent a few minutes later. He hadn't even said goodbye before ending the call, but that didn't bothered Bulma in the slightest. All she could think of was that Vegeta was on his way to Earth. She stared where the projection had been displayed for several contemplative minutes. A smile broke out across her face, and she punched the air with her fist. Vegeta was coming home… he'd said so, and she believed at that moment that nothing else had ever made her feel happier.

 

It didn't take her long to get dressed and straighten her hair, and when the rain lashed at her as she exited the laboratory, she didn't even notice it. The thick stone paving slabs she'd struggled over in her stilettos were now clouds that she skimmed effortlessly across, and the domed yellow structure of her house was the rainbow under which she would find her pot of gold. None of her problems mattered anymore. Kiko, Yamcha… Vegeta had eclipsed them all.

 

“My, my, would you look at mummy, Trunks!” Mrs Briefs exclaimed, as Bulma burst into the main entrance hall in a blissful daze. “Doesn't she look like the cat that got the cream?” Trunks was laying contentedly in Mrs Briefs arms, and she looked every bit the doting grandma.

 

There was no reason to hide her happiness and Bulma waved the pink palmtop plainly for her mother to see. “Well, of course I do,” she took Trunks from her mother and hugged him tight. “Daddy's coming home, yes he is, and he wants Mummy to help him train for the Androids.”

 

“Oh, that's wonderful news, Bulma. How long before I have to restock the pantry?”

 

“He won't be back for a couple of months yet, but knowing his appetite you better start thinking about it right away.”

 

“It's back to the old routine then?” Mrs Brief clasped her hands in joy and did a little pirouette on the marble floor. “What a treat it will be to have two good looking young men back in the house. Oh, what fun we will have. It will make any amount of cooking well worth the effort. What a pity it is that it will be so cold when Vegeta gets back. I particularly like it when he wears those little spandex shorts at the breakfast table in the morning and nothing else.”

 

“Mother!” Bulma protested, “You're not supposed to think things like that about my boyfriends.”

 

“Can't a woman dream now?” chided Mrs Briefs. “Really Bulma, don't deny an old woman such a simple pleasure!”

 

Bulma laughed. “Vegeta does look very good in spandex,” she agreed. “But I doubt Yamcha will still be here when he gets back. He has a home of his own to go to, and his recovery won't take that long.”

 

“Ah well! Either way, it's good that they are both going to spend some time here. You need company, Bulma; you're not made out for the life of a recluse.” Mrs Brief slipped the changing bag from her shoulder and placed it on the hall table. “Now let me see . . . Trunks has been fed and changed, but he was still a little grizzly in the taxi home. I think he missed Mummy last night. I had a little problem with the cot release catch on the new capsule, so he had to sleep in the bed with me. Imagine the hotel not having even the most basic child facilities! I won't be going there again in a hurry, you can bet your life on that much. Do you know where your father is?”

 

“He's probably still in the med-wing. I'm going there just as soon as I've put these away safely,” she held up the printout and palmtop. “I'll tell Dad you're back when I get there.”

 

“You mean to say that you haven't been there yet? Why Bulma! You should have said. I will be happy to look after Trunks for a little longer so you can be there for your friends.”

 

“Are you sure?” she asked, feeling very glad to have her son back, but also feeling very anxious to face Kiko and get the confrontation over and done with.

 

“Of course I do. He's no trouble at all, are you pudding?” Mrs Brief tittered, wiggling her grandson's nose with her index finger, and taking him from Bulma.

 

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I won't be long I promise.”

 

“Take all the time you need.” She patted Bulma on the arm. “It's been a shock to us all.”

 

“In more ways than one, Mum, believe me. In more ways than one.”

 

Mrs Briefs didn't reply to this and Bulma walked quickly away so as to avoid any painful questions. Her father would be there soon, and Bulma had no scruples about letting him tell her mother about the morning's revelations.

 

Bulma leapt up the stairs two at a time, entered her room, placed the palmtop and printout on her dressing table, and just as quickly sprinted out again. She was feeling strong, she was feeling confident, and more importantly… she knew that nothing would drive her happiness away. Vegeta was right. There was something to be said for selfishness in the pursuit of pleasure. If only she could live with the guilt as he could.

 

The first person she saw on entering the medical wing was Kiko, and her new resolve and strength didn't fail her even though Kiko's eyes narrowed distrustfully on her entrance. Bulma held out a hand in welcome. The gesture was ignored. It was obvious her guest had been crying, and it was equally obvious that she didn't want to be cordial. It didn't faze Bulma. Kiko wasn't at fault, and she certainly had the right to feel ill-used by everyone connected to Capsule Corporation. Instead of storming in headfirst, Bulma decided to let Kiko have her pride, and she used the standoff to study her. Kiko was beautiful, quite beautiful; there was no denying that - petite but elegant even while she was crying. Her hair was in a chic bob-cut which grazed her chin in the way Bulma's had before she'd grown it out. Her complexion was clear, and her skin was tanned and smooth. She wore a simple pair of high street jeans with a cropped jumper that showed a glimpse of pierced navel. Bulma couldn't help feeling sorry for her. By Yamcha's account she had married young, and that marriage had become violent not long after her daughter was born. Kiko had suffered five years of systematic abuse by the man she loved before the alliance was finally dissolved by divorce. It was four months after this that Yamcha and Kiko had met for the first time. It didn't seem fair somehow, that the woman before her who had the beauty and grace to leave men falling at her feet could suffer so much in love. Yamcha may not have physically struck her, but it was plain to see that she was suffering no less because of him. Like many young women before her, there was the knowledge in her eyes that she'd fallen in love with the wrong men, and no beauty or elegance would soothe the victim of such a tragedy.

 

The best course of action, Bulma determined, was to tackle the problem head-on. There was vulnerability in Kiko's posture, and it persuaded Bulma that if she talked quickly and decisively enough, then Kiko wouldn't have the chance to challenge her. Besides, it was clear that Kiko hadn't had the time to think properly about what was going to happen next, and right now Bulma would have to kick-start her emotions into action. For Yamcha's sake she would be strong and she would be firm. “I want to thank you for coming to my home today, Kiko,” she began in a very matter-of-fact way. “You are most welcome here, even though I am well aware that it is the last place on Earth you want to be right now.”

 

Kiko lowered her head and looked resolutely at the floor.

 

“Yes…” Bulma confessed. “I know how he feels. I had confirmation of it this morning. I don't want to think badly of my friend, but Yamcha knew very well that I wasn't in love with him anymore, and he made a bad decision by lying to us both about his feelings. That does not, however, excuse my behaviour in the affair. The truth of the matter is that I was too wrapped up in my own little world to realize what was really going on in his head, and for that reason I feel like I have not been a friend to you or to him. It does no good to dwell on it though. I cannot change the past and undo my mistakes, I can only hope to make amends and do better by him, by both of you, in the future. I have caused you pain, but it was unintentionally done, and I hope that you will be able to find it in yourself to forgive me in time.”

 

Kiko didn't speak. Bulma was thankful for it.

 

“At the moment all our efforts should be channelled in the same direction. We need to make Yamcha well again. My father and James are giving him every possible care and attention while he is here, but he is welcome to stay here only until James says he is well enough to be moved. After that he needs to be away from Capsule Corporation and away from me. I want him to go somewhere where he can recuperate in peace, and be nursed by someone who is completely committed to his recovery. He might mend physically if he stays here, but not mentally, and I don't want to make the same mistakes twice. More especially I don't want to be the cause of pain to either of you -intentionally or not, and you have my word that I will do everything in my power to prevent it.”

 

“Your word doesn't mean much to me Miss Briefs.”

 

“I understand that,” she replied. “But plans have to be made for his future and for yours. You need to think about what happens next. You love him, I can tell that just from looking at you, but will you be able to make him better? Will either of us? I know I can't. I've made it too hard for him to distance himself from me as it is, and it will be impossible for him to look forward if we're living in the same house. This doesn't mean, however, that I am unconcerned about him. I love him very dearly. He is a life long friend and one of the kindest and most dependable people I have ever known. I want what is best for him, and if you can't provide that then I need to know as much.”

 

“I… you!”

 

Bulma watched with indifference as she saw the anger rushing through Kiko.

 

“There is no use trying to pussyfoot around a crisis,” Bulma admonished. “The only option is to meet the challenge head on. You need to use these next few days to think about not just what is best for Yamcha, but what is best for you and your daughter as well. If at the end of this time you feel you are not up to helping Yamcha recover, then you better give me notice, and I will find someone else who is!”

 

Bulma was about to walk away, but she let the ice thaw around her for a moment to say. “I'm not naturally harsh, Kiko, any more than you are naturally angry. In time I hope you will realize that I am not the villain in this. Think about what I have said, and let my actions show you that I have nothing but Yamcha's best interests at heart.” Bulma didn't give Kiko a chance to reply. She held her head high as she left the entrance hall and followed the corridor around to the main wing.

 

Mr Briefs was outside Yamcha's room when she turned the corner. He instantly walked over to her, looped an arm around her shoulders and dragged her into a hug. She felt his lips press onto the top of her head.

 

“You heard?” she asked.

 

“Every word.”

 

“Tell me, Daddy, did I do the right thing?”

 

“You did,” he replied. “Do you feel better for it?”

 

“A little,” she replied. Then laughed, “No, not really.”

 

He chuckled. “Well, well, it will get better soon enough, but there is no use delaying the inevitable. He's been asking for you ever since he came around, so you better go in, but be prepared. Puar has already told him what happened this morning.”

 

“It's better that she has. I need to keep this short for his own sake if not for mine.”

 

“I'll be waiting out here for you.”

 

“There's no need Dad. Mum's home so you should go to her. I think you're in for an ear bending. She wasn't impressed with the hotel you booked.”

 

“Ah well, I dare say I can bite the bullet on that one,” he laughed, “but only if you tell me that you will be okay seeing Yamcha on your own?”

 

“Perfectly okay,” she reassured, and to prove as much she turned the handle and marched through the door and into the main suite. She didn't look back. She felt as strong as she had ever done, but still some part of her mind warned her that she was about to rely on every single piece of that strength to get through this.

 

Yamcha didn't see her at first. Puar was next to him on the bed and they were both watching some insane game show on the television. He was laughing at one of the contestants who, having fallen into a giant paddling pool of foam, was now slipping and sliding all over the place in an attempt to climb back out again. The two of them together looked happy and completely comfortable in each other's company. Her heart felt heavy. Would her and Yamcha ever be that close again? She hoped they would but something in the back of her brain, the part that was too sensible for its own good, told her that she had made her choice, and that their relationship would never be the same as it once had been. If she weren't so full of selfish happiness then she would be crying right now. Bulma knew that it wouldn't be long before the laughter died down, and she felt guilty that she would have to shatter such a lovely scene.

 

Shattered it was though a second later, as Yamcha's laughing turned into a long string of hacking coughs. His body was still weak, and the IV drip still pumped fluid into his exhausted body. Puar fussed around him with pillows, and Bulma realized that their mutual floating friend had already spotted her.

 

“Is that more comfortable for you?” Puar asked him.

 

“Yes, thank you. I could use a drink though. It feels like I've swallowed half the desert.”

 

“That's because you have, dumbass!” she teased. “I'll see if I can find you another jug of water. Besides,” she inclined her head in the direction Bulma was standing. “You have a visitor.”

 

Bulma steeled herself. She picked up the medical chart on the cabinet and flicked through it, even as she felt Yamcha's eyes on her. She didn't read it properly only skimmed over the main points. He was responding well to treatment and was out of immediate danger. That was all she needed to know. She flipped the board shut again and walked to the bed knowing without looking that Puar had made herself scarce and that Yamcha was no longer paying any attention to the TV. Just to make certain she picked up the remote and turned it off. She didn't want any distractions.

 

“James seems to think you're doing well. How do you feel?” she asked, very careful not to make eye contact with him and to keep her manner calm and business-like.

 

“I've felt better,” he replied, “but not because of the heat stroke.”

 

“At this rate you can leave Capsule Corporation in a little over a week. That's quite remarkable really.”

 

“Leave… so soon?”

 

“Yes. There is nothing else to be done. You can't stay here.”

 

“Or in other words you don't want me to stay here. I know what this is about, Bulma, Puar told me. I never meant to hurt you, and I never meant to lie to you either. The whole thing has been blown out of proportion.”

 

“Really? I don't believe it has, and I'm sure Kiko would agree with me. Rest assured, however, that everything is being done to make your stay here at Capsule Corporation as comfortable as possible. If you need anything then just let Dad or James know. They will be happy to attend to you at any time of the day.”

 

“Your dad or James, but not you, right?”

 

“I think that would be unwise.”

 

“B, you have to listen to me. Okay… maybe I did play this situation down, but this is freaking me out. I don't want to lose your friendship because of it. I know I can't change what I did, but I would a million times over if I was given the chance. Don't shut yourself away from me. We have to talk about this.”

 

“No, no we don't. What we need to talk about is what happens when you leave here. I am looking for somewhere with the facilities to look after you when James has given you the all clear. I want to get nothing but the very best care for you. I was going to send a note to Korin to ask about the availability of sensu at this time of year, but looking at your chart convinces me that this won't be necessary. It's not your physical health that is concerning me at the moment.”

 

“Look, I know I've been an idiot, and I know I've hurt both you and Kiko, but we can sit down and sort this out. I know we can!”

 

“There's a therapist called Dr. Yohachi that has been close to my family for years, and although I haven't made enquiries yet, I think it would be a good idea if we booked you in for a few sessions, just to see how it goes.”

 

“I don't want to see a shrink. How is seeing some idiot who knows nothing about me going to help anything when I know exactly how I feel? It won't change things one bit!”

 

“Well, your feelings need to change, Yamcha, for your sake and for the sake of everyone involved. You don't want to lose me as a friend. I don't want to lose you either, but you have to know that there is no chance of us ever being close to each other in any way if you don't get over our old relationship. The relative situation of our lives means that we can easily spend time apart. You are independent and so am I. It won't be hard to stay away from each other until you understand and deal with your feelings better. You have to do this if we are to have any kind of friendship in the future, don't you see this?”

 

“NO, AND FOR GODS SAKE, BULMA!” he screamed louder than she had ever heard him raise his voice before. “LOOK AT ME!”

 

Shocked at the outburst Bulma jumped and for the first time since walking in the room, looked him dead in the eye.

 

“I don't care if you love Vegeta more. I don't care if you can never accept how I feel, but I have dealt with it, and I still want to be close to you. Please don't push me away. I wouldn't be able to bear it, and deep down in your heart I know that you won't be able to either.”

 

“And what about Kiko?” she countered, a little off-guard from his outburst. “Where does she figure in all this? Is this how it's going to be? Are you just going to use women and drag their feelings through the mud, simply because you can't get what you want from me? That is cruel, Yamcha, simply cruel!”

 

“That's unfair!” he defended. “I love Kiko. I've always loved her, and I've always looked after her.”

 

“Is that why she's crying her heart out in the hall is it? Because you've loved her and looked after her so well?”

 

He stared at her for several minutes. Bulma's chest was pounding with anger and grief at the thought that his feelings for her might never change, and that each would be alienated from the other for good. She didn't want to believe that it was true, she couldn't lose her best friend… she refused to! And then, all at once the spell, the delusion Yamcha had been living and hiding behind appeared to break, and Bulma felt hope again - hope that, in time, things could be set to rights. Yamcha cupped his head in his hands and there was a faint glow of ki surrounding him as his shoulders hunched, and he started to cry. “I've really have fucked things up, haven't I?” he sobbed, tears dripping onto the bedclothes bunched at his waist.

 

“Yes, yes you have,” she replied, but he looked so forlorn and lost that she couldn't help softening her voice a little. “I am hurting, Yamcha, and I am angry, but most of all I feel like a piece of me has died, because I can't help you anymore. Never be in any doubt that I do love you, and that I will always look out for you, but I also have my own life to live, and my own future to plan. I want to be happy, I want to be successful, I want to be a good mother, and I want to be a good friend. How can I consider myself your true friend if I'm happy to let you suffer day in and day out? If I were selfish then I would pretend everything is fine. I would carry on as if nothing was happening, because I care for you and I want you close. You're one of the few people I know who I can tell anything to and not feel like you're judging me, and to sacrifice that, even for a little while, is harder than I could have ever imagined, but you need to be away from here. You need time away from me to take stock of your life and think about what really matters to you.”

 

Yamcha didn't make any attempt to reply to this. He was in such a state that Bulma wondered if he'd actually heard anything she'd had to say. She could feel her emotions rising; she wanted to cry too, to put her arms around him and comfort him, but she couldn't allow it.

 

“Please,” she pleaded. “Please get the help you need, Yamcha. And remember that I will always be your friend.”

 

Her strength and resolve was dissolving with every second she remained in the room. In a torturous moment her heart's desire to stay and console her friend was conquered by her brain's sound reasoning. Leave now and have no regrets, it urged. She bolted for the door and didn't look back. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do.