A little post-Buu Fanfiction which is inspired by a Doujin I read somewhere (I cannot remember the title). The lovely fleurlicorne translated this for me as a christmas present! Thank u so much hun! *hugs*

It was the middle of the night, but Vegeta couldn't sleep. Both him and Bulma were still wide awake. He lay on the bed with his arms crossed behind his back while he stared at the ceiling. It had been around midnight when they had first gone to bed. However, as it so often happened, the Saiyan and his Earthling wife, had had other things in mind besides sleeping. Most of the time, the prince immediately fell asleep after they had sex, but tonight he was just too agitated. A feeling of unrest was swarming inside of him. Maybe he felt this way because of the bad weather raging outside. Raindrops were pelting against the window panes and every once in awhile, he could hear the sound of violent thunder.

"Vegeta...is everything alright?" Bulma asked, noting that he looked rather restless.

"It's nothing…," he muttered and then he looked slightly to his left towards the window, where he could watch the tempest unfold.

A couple of days had passed since the Tenkaichi Budokai, which had been the beginning of this strange series of events that had revolved around Majin Buu. "Something's up with you," the blue-haired woman murmured while lying naked on his chest. "It feels like it's been an eternity since then...that everything happened a few months instead of a few days ago." Bulma turned towards him and gave him a penetrating look. "Even if I've told you all this already, I still want to emphasize how painful it was when you died. I never want to go through that again."

Vegeta peered away from the window and gave her his undivided attention. They had already addressed the topic of his killing spree at the tournament immediately after the victory over Buu. He would never forget that conversation.

...

"It's not like you were the one that died," he hissed contemptuously, and diverted his gaze from her again. He suddenly felt her fingers slide over his abdominal muscles and then she pinched him in a couple of spots. "What are you doing?" The prince flinched a little at her touch. He ground his teeth together while he followed her movements across his body with his eyes.

"I just wanted to make sure that you have truly returned to me and that every single centimetre of you is still intact," she giggled, while gliding her hand under the covers down to the inside of his thigh, which she then also pinched. "Everything is just like I remember it to be." Although they had just had sex a few minutes before, a warm feeling was building up in him again. Her soft and lithe fingers on his skin were jumpstarting his arousal. As the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end, she removed her hand and sat upright in the bed.

"I'm so glad that everything is back to how it was before, not just with your body," she said, pulling the blankets up to cover her breasts. "Now we can live in peace again."

"How it was before…," Vegeta repeated automatically and untangled his arms from behind his back. He followed her lead and sat up in the bed. Her words were making him think. She thought she was calling things by their proper name, but it sounded all wrong to his ears.

Live in peace.

How it was before.

Thousands of thoughts flickered through his mind, and in the next moment, he turned his gaze back to her. "Do you really think everything is like how it used to be?" There was a certain coldness to his voice. He knew that she could detect the icy edge to his question because she looked back at him aggrieved. However, she remained silent but kept her mouth half open in anticipation of his explanation.

"Do you really think that I'm the same man you knew before? Is it really me who's sleeping with you?" Bulma's eyes widened as he cast these ideas at her. The woman had probably not anticipated her ordinary conversation taking this drastic turn. But she had definitely broached a sensitive topic with him. Did she take it for granted that just because he lived this peaceful life on Earth with her, that it was an expression of who he truly was? How did she envision his former self? What did it mean...to be like how he was before?

"I'm not a normal person. I'm a Saiyan!" he shouted and lowered his head. His right hand was clutching his temple like he was having a headache. "Why the hell am I living here so peacefully? I'm here in this place that I loathe, trapped in this smothering environment." That was not what he had wanted to say, but the words streamed forth like a waterfall nonetheless. This topic had tormented his soul for far too long, and now the time had come to express his misgivings. It wasn't really the Earth that he hated, but rather it was his present behaviour that was seen as normal and taken as a given and that no one knew the real him.

"My mind...my body...it's as if I'm losing more and more control of them with each passing day. My heart, my limbs, they should function due to my will, and mine alone!" Vegeta had to pull himself together. In some ways, he felt miserable living there; thus, it was important for him to put his thoughts into words. The Saiyan knew that it sounded like he were making a grand proclamation of love, but that was not his intention. The blue-haired woman had known for a long time that he cherished her and that over the years, he had learned to love her even if he never showed it. His sacrifice in the fight against Majin Buu had been the best proof of this, so it didn't matter what he said now. This was all about him and his urge to reveal his innermost feelings. Who else did he have to confess this to...other than her?

"When did I become someone other than...myself?" Vegeta breathed out anxiously and let his hands fall to his side. He was still staring at the bedspread in front of him. He did not dare to look at her. Besides, he was too preoccupied with thinking about the old days when he would just slaughter and destroy and when he had fought side by side with Nappa and Radditz in battle. While in Freeza's service, he could confess that he had exterminated entire races. The Saiyan no Ouji did not often think back to that time, but when he did, it seemed as if it had all been just a dream, an endless dream that he had been dreaming for far too long. These events were so far removed in the past that they no longer seemed real to him. His never-ending dream had come to an abrupt end when he had met him, that one Saiyan who was stronger than him and who he had wanted to defeat more than anything else. Kakarot became his obsession and that was all he had to cling to after his old life was over. Furthermore, he always felt this constant stress pushing him to defeat Kakarot. And every time he thought he had surpassed his rival, he would get a rude awakening. It was just a vicious cycle that never had a positive outcome for him.

"How it was before…," he whispered, finally plucking up the courage to look at his mate. She had not yet said a word and only continued to stare at him. However, she was not as shocked as she had been at the outset, instead her gaze showed...pity. She just seemed intent on listening to him and mulling over everything that he said. She was so beautiful with her short hair, which was still completely dishevelled from their lovemaking.

"How it was before…," the words passed his lips once again, while he balled his hands into fists and clawed at the covers. "This isn't a joke. What would you know, being just a human? I'm…," and then he fell silent.

XXX

Bulma had rarely seen her mate look so broken. She hadn't known that her careless remarks would have opened such a gaping wound within him and triggered an identity crisis. Under normal circumstances, she would have added her two cents to the conversation by this point in time, but Vegeta almost never let his words flow freely, so she didn't want to interrupt him. It wasn't every day that the taciturn prince revealed his innermost thoughts to her.

When his speech finally faltered, she raised her hand, which she had used to touch him earlier, and once more stroked his rough skin. "This wound...is scarred just like I remember," she sighed, while gently massaging his shoulder. The long depression went across his entire right breast and she traced its outline from its beginning to end.

Yes, she had almost never seen her mate look so broken, and to be exact, she had only ever seen him this way once before. "This reminds me of when you were trying to become a Super Saiyan. I thought you would die first before it'd ever happen." She pressed her lips together, lost in her thoughts, and looked down at her hand as it tenderly caressed him. Bulma remembered better than he did, how he had behaved back then, and she realized that it was similar to how he was acting now. It had all happened after the explosion of the gravity ship...

XXX

She did not know what had come over her, but the blue-haired woman could not resist checking up on the black-haired fighter. In addition, someone had to change his bandages, and somehow she felt compelled to do it, despite it being his own fault that he had blown himself up. Vegeta was lying on his back in one of the guest rooms, and he stared at her in confusion as she entered the room. He did not seem to be expecting her presence beside him, but damn it, she lived here and could go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted!

Bulma had told him once before that he shouldn't get carried away with his training. She had always used a delicate approach when dealing with him, but now he had definitely gone too far and she decided that enough was enough. She had to make it clear to him that he had better cut that shit out. She placed the first aid kit on the small table beside his bed and turned to him. "Could you be so kind as to not behave so recklessly while you're living at my house?" she hissed at him. "I don't want to have to bury your corpse, if you decide to take things too far again."

"Shut your mouth. I'm not going to take any orders from someone like you," he growled before sitting back down. However, he stopped in the middle of his movement because the pain was too great. He eased his way back down and his muscles strained from the pressure.

"Don't get all worked up again, I'm not giving you any rules to obey. Now please turn around so I can change your bandages." She roughly grabbed his shoulder, and he responded by immediately pushing her away.

"Get your dirty hands off me." That had been his initial reaction and next, he fired a poisonous glance her way.

But Bulma did not have any patience for his posturing, so she touched him again in the same spot. She was banking on him showing her the same revulsion, but this time there was no emotion on his part. Either he was too weak to react or he was permitting it because he knew that she could be just as stubborn as him. The inventor decided not to question his reasons and gratefully took the opportunity to remove his old dressings and to replace them with new ones.

The whole process went by smoothly and in no time at all, she had professionally patched him up. "You're going to get a scar here," she said, pointing to a mark on his right shoulder. "This wound is covering quite a large portion of your chest and it's quite deep too." After she had finished, she put the supplies back into the first aid kit and closed the lid. "It's a miracle that you survived that explosion. I must grudgingly admit that you Saiyans are truly amazing creatures," she continued without receiving a response from him.

She cast one last glance at him as he sat wordlessly on the bed. The Saiyan was not really the most talkative person, speaking only in hate-filled tirades and curses. Bulma nervously sighed and looked down at the kit. She honestly wondered if there was anything she could do to help her extraterrestrial guest, but she couldn't figure out a solution to his problems.

Just as she was about to leave the room, she heard the black-haired man fall to the floor. Vegeta had been trying to get up despite all of his injuries! "You idiot, what are you doing? What's wrong with you?" she yelled at him, while he cowered on the floor. The blue-haired woman really couldn't understand what was going through his head. He was covered in bandages from head to toe. Vegeta couldn't even stand up on his own, so how could he possibly think he was going to be able to fight?

"Is this because of Son-kun? Do you still want to surpass him? Are you completely insane? Do you really think you can defeat him like this?"

The fighter leaned against the side of the bed and breathed heavily. That was not surprising considering that only until yesterday he had been hooked up to a respirator. He was sitting on the floor, dressed only in his boxers and he wouldn't look at her. Did he suddenly feel too weak to stand up to her?

"I've known him since I was a teenager. Son-kun is strong, very strong," she explained while folding her arms. Bulma was now annoyed that she had come to his room to see him in the first place. Vegeta was just doing whatever he thought was necessary to achieve his goal. However, the blue-haired woman couldn't help herself, she was overwhelmed with worry for her extraterrestrial guest, even if he had once tried to kill her friends. That made her almost hate herself a little, because she felt compassion for someone like him.

"What else do you need to open your eyes?" She took a few steps towards him, but he still didn't react to her. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his mouth remained closed. What was the reason for his total silence?

"It's not possible for you to defeat him like this. How can you be so obsessed with him? It's not like Son-kun would ever show this much interest in you, right?"

Suddenly, the Saiyan lifted his head and looked bitterly at her, like the thought of Son-kun according him some sort of special respect was too good to be true. Had she hit a nerve? When it came to battle, the Saiyan race was really strange. Bulma couldn't understand what he was going through but she still felt as though she should apologize.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, and instinctively took a few steps back.

"There's one here as well...another scar." Her hand trailed to the left side of his body. Over the years, these wounds had not healed. During the course of his own training activities, he had acquired even more. Of course, she had never known him as an unscathed man. When she had first seen him naked, she had been shocked at how deeply the wounds of battle were etched into his skin. However, only the scars that he had gained while on Earth, were engraved in her memory. For example, she recalled the fight that had given him the scar over his right breast.

Bulma didn't know what she could say to comfort her warrior husband. But she understood the inner turmoil that he suffered each and every day. The changes he had undergone over the past few years were more difficult for him than she had originally assumed. She had never known anyone else who had achieved a similar transformation. Although, he wasn't the same man that he had been 7 years ago, he was still her Vegeta. His fundamental character traits were still preserved, especially when it came to his stubbornness and pride.

"I understand you very well, from your scars and your wounds and even down to the blood that flows in your veins. I understand every word and every hidden meaning that comes forth from you. I also know who you are and who you were, even if the others have forgotten it," she said softly while stroking his upper arm. Vegeta raised his head and looked at her in bewilderment. "Even if one day you forget how you used to be, believe me...I will never forget."

Bulma was unsure whether her words were having a positive impact on the prince. Did he understand what she meant, or would he immediately reject everything that she'd said and turn away from her? But in the next moment, she felt his strong hands resting on her shoulders. He pulled her close and placed his forehead against her chest.

"Bulma…," was all he managed to say. She wrapped her arms around his body and felt his warm breath on her skin. His hands were cold, yet they also somehow felt sweaty upon her shoulders. Yes, she had never really seen him like this. For how many years had these thoughts tormented him? He had not conquered his personal demons, but was still struggling with them.

The blue-haired woman realized that she had always been chasing after him in an attempt to gain a better understanding of him. That was how it had once been, but now she finally fully understood him. She understood his troubles and she was helping him cope with his demons, or that's at least what she wanted to believe...

But when had they started to...confront challenges together?