Chapter Text
Raditz stopped mid-flight and turned slightly, barked a command behind him. “Nappa, Kakarot—go help the Emperor!”
Bulma twisted and writhed against his hold, her heart pounding in her chest. Below her, chaos erupted. From this height, the figures on the ground were little more than blurs, but for the brief moment they had paused, she could see enough—fighters clashed, energy blasts shook the earth, more Saiyans joined the fray by the second. Bulma tried to keep track of Vegeta, but they were too far away, too high up, and there were too many bodies, too much movement. She had lost sight of him. Her pulse spiked in panic.
Raditz didn’t wait to see if the others obeyed before shooting off into the sky with Bulma locked tightly in his grasp.
“Take me back!” she yelled under his hand, her voice raw with anger and fear. She thrashed against Raditz’s grip, her nails digging into his forearm. “Take me back to Vegeta! Now!”
Raditz finally removed his hand from her mouth. But his arms wrapped around her waist like iron. “Stop struggling, woman. You’re embarrassing yourself,” he sneered. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
She could no longer see the arena, wasn't sure how far away Raditz had taken her. For a moment, the sound of a roar—deep, primal, and chilling—reached her ears, so loud and unnatural it sent a shiver down her spine. Was that Vegeta? Or someone else? She couldn’t tell.
“What's happening?!” she shouted.
Raditz laughed. Bulma's blood ran cold. The Saiyan leaned his head down, his voice close to her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. “You know, you really should’ve listened to Nappa when he told you to leave the prince alone. Maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten caught up in all of this.” His tone turned dark. Amused. “It’s a pity, though. Such a waste. You’re quite sexy, you know.”
Bulma’s stomach turned. Her body went rigid as his nose brushing against the side of her neck. She felt him sniff her, his breath hot against her skin. She tried to recoil as her gut twisted with revulsion.
“Get off me!” she spat, thrashing harder against him once more.
Raditz ignored her. "We really could’ve used your scientific mind," he drawled, his tone almost conversational now. "Especially since I had to get rid of Zoya... and a fair number of Red Ribbon scientists." He shrugged. "Unfortunately, they knew too much.” He paused. "I've gotta say, I didn't expect you to kill her, but it sure helped me out."
Bulma froze. Tried to swallow but couldn't. "What... What are you saying?"
Raditz chuckled again, the sound low and cruel. “You’re a smart girl, Bulma," he said, mocking her. "You can’t figure it out?”
Her fists clenched, her fear boiling into fury. “Either kill me or explain!”
He hummed, as though considering her words. “Patience. I can’t kill you just yet. Not until Dacron gets here.”
Dacron... The Captain from House Terup. The one who had somehow ascended...
It didn’t make sense. Ascension was supposed to practically be a myth, a rarity among Saiyans—so rare that only a handful in all of Saiyan history had ever achieved it.
“Tell me what’s going on!” she demanded, trying and failing to keep her voice from shaking.
“You really can’t you figure it out?” She could almost hear him smiling. “Remember the night the prince was drugged?” he asked. “That serum Zoya gave him? That was the day I knew for sure that the Prince- the Emperor would ascend soon.”
Bulma wanted to ask him how the hell he knew about that, but it was pretty obvious at this point. Raditz had been the traitor all along.
“It's meant to cause an artificial ascention, but didn’t work on him," he said. "But it didn't kill him, either. Zoya knew she was giving him an unstable version. And I'll let you in on a little secret...What House Terup doesn’t know is that Zoya's scientists never were able to stabilize it. There's about a dozen others from House Terup fighting the Emperor right now. They all took the serum.” He scoffed. “They’re ticking time bombs. The serum gives them the power of ascension for about an hour. Two at most. But... their bodies just can’t handle it.”
Bulma’s heart raced, her chest tightening. “Why are you doing this?"
Raditz laughed, the sound harsh and cruel. “The men who killed the Emperor took the serum as well. They are long dead by now,” he said, shaking his head. “But the prince? He survived when we gave it to him. He's strong. That near-death experience gave him the push he needed. He’s so close now… He just needs one more little push.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Maybe if she kept him talking someone would notice them in time.
Raditz’s grip tightened slightly, and his voice turned almost gleeful. “Kakarot ascended when our entire clan was destroyed. It was loss that drove him. Pain. I imagine Emperor Vegeta will feel the same way when he sees you free falling and realizes he’s too late to save you. No one will get to you in time.” He makes a false sound of sympathy. "How very tragic."
Bulma’s stomach twisted. “That’s a stupid plan,” she snapped. “Vegeta will know you killed me.”
Raditz smirked. “No, no,” he said smoothly. “The Emperor will see Dacron and I fight. Then others will join—more of House Terup’s 'ascended' warriors. I’ll fight so valiantly to save you, but alas…” He shrugged. “It won’t be enough. You’ll fall to your death. And then, finally, he will Ascend.” Bulma's blood ran cold. Raditz was evil. He was insane.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “You betrayed Vegeta, you betrayed your own brother! Why!?” Her voice broke with rage and desperation. “For what, Raditz?!”
“I betrayed no one!” Raditz snarled, his voice venomous. “My brother betrayed our house when he refused to challenge the prince! And the prince betrayed us all by remaining weak! Everything I’ve done will allow Emperor Vegeta to finally Ascend! And then, finally, I will truly belong to the Greatest House!”
Before she could respond, a Saiyan flew toward them with incredible speed. His golden aura marked him as one of the 'Ascended'. It was Dacron. He smiled wickedly at Bulma.
Raditz shoved Bulma roughly to the side, holding her with one arm as Dacron lunged at him. Raditz snarled as he made a good show of fending off the attacker. His hold on Bulma faltered slightly. She tried not to scream. Tried not to think about what was about to happen to her.
Then, more Saiyans joined the fray, surrounding Raditz. He pretended to struggle, his grip on Bulma slipping further with each clash. She screamed as his arm gave way, and suddenly, she was falling.
The wind tore at her, her screams swallowed by the rush of air. Panic like she'd never known before seized her as she plummeted toward the ground. She tried to calculate in her head but her mind was too frantic to focus. She knew one thing: she wouldn’t survive the impact.
Tears stung her eyes as she squeezed them shut. I’m going to die.
But then she heard it—a scream so raw, so guttural, it sounded almost inhuman. Her eyes snapped open just in time to see Vegeta erupt in golden light as he flew toward her. His energy exploded outward, blasting back every fighter around him. The force of it shook the earth, the sky itself seeming to quake beneath his power. But it was just as Raditz said. He was too far away to get to her in time.
She almost smiled. If she was going to die, at least she got to see him Ascend.
But she never hit the ground. A pair of arms caught her mid-fall, the impact jarring enough to knock the wind out of her. Pain shot through her ribs, and she gasped, certain something was broken.
She looked up, her vision swimming. She didn't think it wasn’t Kakarot. And she knew it couldn't be Vegeta. But Bulma couldn’t make out who it was. The pain was too great to bear, and darkness closed in.
She lost consciousness.
Bulma woke to the hazy glow of hospital lights and the soft murmur of voices nearby. Her head felt heavy, her limbs like lead, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or awake. Blinking slowly, she turned her head, her vision blurry but just clear enough to make out her parents standing next to her. Her mother’s worried face softened as she saw Bulma stir. Her father leaned down, squeezing her hand gently before smiling at her.
“She’s awake,” her mother whispered, her voice choking as she held back a sob.
Bulma tried to speak, but her throat felt raw. She managed a faint, “Hi,” her voice scratchy and slurred from the painkillers pumping through her system.
Paunchy leaned over her, peppered her face with kisses before resting her cheek against her daughter's for a moment as she cried softly. "Oh, my darling, I'm so glad you're safe." Bulma felt tears well up in her eyes. She wanted to hug her mom, but it hurt to move.
A moment later her father cleared his throat. “We’ll give you two a moment,” he said. Bulma’s foggy mind didn’t register what he meant until she noticed the figure seated on the other side of her bed.
Vegeta.
He sat rigidly, his hands resting on his knees, his dark eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart flutter despite the dull ache radiating through her body. He didn’t say anything at first, but his presence alone made her feel warm. Safe.
Despite everything—the pain, the drugs, the fact that she was lying in a hospital bed—she couldn’t help the dreamy smile that spread across her lips. “Vegeta…” she murmured. “You did it.”
His lips twitched, the faintest trace of a smirk appearing. “I did, didn't I?” he said, his voice low, rough.
She nodded, her eyes half-lidded as the memory floated to the surface. “I knew you could,” she said, her tone soft, reverent.
Vegeta’s smirk vanished and to her surprise, he reached for her hands, his warm, calloused fingers curling gently around hers. The simple gesture made her chest tighten, and she stared at their joined hands, her foggy mind struggling to process the moment.
And then, because she was loopy from the drugs, she blurted out, “Are you trying to fuck me in the hospital?” She tried to waggle her brows at him but she couldn't quite get them to obey her.
Vegeta froze, his expression flickering between stunned and something dangerously close to amusement.
“I mean,” she continued, completely oblivious to his reaction, “because let me tell you… I so would.” She paused, narrowing her eyes as her body registered a deep, throbbing ache. “Except I don't think I can move right now. So, yeah, never mind.”
“Woman,” Vegeta said, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement, “you broke more than a few bones when you fell.”
The memory of what had happened slammed into her like a freight train, and her breath caught. “Raditz,” she gasped, her eyes widening as panic surged through her.
Vegeta’s expression darkened immediately, the amusement vanishing from his face. His grip on her hands tightened, grounding her. “Raditz is dead,” he said, his voice low and final.
Bulma stared at him, her heart hammering. She swallowed hard. “Who… Who caught me?”
“Nappa,” Vegeta replied simply.
“Nappa!?” she repeated, incredulous. “But… but he hates me.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But he is loyal to House Vegeta.”
“Huh.” She blinked, processing that. “And House Terup?” she asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.
Vegeta’s expression twisted into one of disgust. “While we were fighting... they began to…”
“Explode?” she guessed, wincing at the memory of Raditz’s earlier confession.
“Yes,” Vegeta confirmed, his tone clipped.
Bulma scrunched her nose. “Gross.”
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence stretched between them, and Bulma found herself staring into Vegeta’s eyes. There was something there—something raw, unguarded, and achingly sad. Her chest tightened.
She blinked, took a deep breath, trying to focus. Even in her haze, she had a feeling she knew what was happening. “You... have to go, don’t you?” she asked softly.
Vegeta nodded, his hands tightening around hers. “I must secure my position,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I must stabilize my planet. Stamp out the insurrection.”
Bulma swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to argue, to beg him to stay, but she knew she couldn’t. She forced a weak smile. “I want to come with you,” she said.
Vegeta’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Woman, you nearly broke your spine,” he said, his tone stern. “You must rest.”
“I-I want to come with you,” she repeated stubbornly, her voice trembling with emotion.
“It’s not safe,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “My planet is most likely in the middle of a civil war.”
She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Fine,” she muttered. “But take Kakarot with you,” she added, her tone insistent.
Vegeta scoffed but didn’t refuse.
The pain was getting to be too much and Bulma pushed the button for more relief.
“And leave... leave Ta'sora,” she slurred as the drugs began to take effect. “Gotta… gotta see if there’s anything in my closet she wants.”
Vegeta raised a brow, clearly confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I wan'er Birkin,” Bulma muttered.
“What the hell is a Birkin?” Vegeta asked, his brow furrowing.
“A purse,” Bulma explained, her voice dreamy. “A gorgeous handbag.”
Vegeta stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “You want me to leave one of my most powerful allies behind… so she’ll give you her purse.”
Bulma tried to wave a dismissive hand, but her arm didn’t move. “Di'you know she’s married?” she asked instead.
Vegeta nodded.
"That's nice," she sighed and closed her eyes.
“I thought I had lost you,” Vegeta said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I can’t…” His voice trailed off again. “Bulma…”
Bulma was trying—and failing—to remain awake.
“Would you wait for me?” she thought he asked quietly, though it could have just been wishful thinking and the haze of medication.
"O'course," she muttered anyway.
She thought— hoped—she heard something else, too. Something about being his empress one day. But maybe she was dreaming. Maybe the drugs were making her imagine things.
Her eyelids felt too heavy to open, and the last thing she noticed was the warmth of his hands around hers.