A/N: NO WORDS! JUST GET ON AND READ THE FINAL CHAPTER! Lol, more Author's Note at the end :).

Chapter 13
Maybe it'll be Okay Now

It had been six months since that hellish day.

Six months since Vegeta and a figment of Trunks' mind embarked on a journey to rescue his son's soul.

Six months since Bulma had suffered a severe concussion, thanks to her own son.

Six months since Trunks had been cured of Encephalitis Lethargica.

Six months since the sheer energy of Trunks' ki had broken four of Vegeta's ribs and one of his arms.

Six months since Vegeta broken his son's neck in order to inadvertently save Trunks' life and that of the planet and its inhabitants.

"Don't panic, Mr. and Mrs. Briefs," the doctor had said. "The damage to Trunks' neck is minimal. If…when he awakes from this latest coma, he'll be fully functional with little to no paralysis whatsoever."

Six months since Vegeta had heaved into a hospital wastepaper basket, thinking of how close he had come to destroying his son's future.

So, in six months, Trunks had stayed trapped in the coma his father had put him in. There wasn't a day that passed him by when he wondered if being in a coma was the gods way of saying that this was how Trunks was meant to go.

It just wasn't fair.

Stilling himself before he opened the door to Trunks' private room, Vegeta could see Bulma stroking his son's hair affectionately. It was no secret that the relationship between them was decaying. Bulma never blamed Vegeta for what he had to do to their son but he blamed himself and that was just as bad.

He entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. Bulma looked up wearily and smiled gently. Her hair was slowly but surely growing out again. The stitches she'd required had forced the nurses to shave her head. Originally, Bulma had been furious but both she and Vegeta agreed now that the new hairstyle did wonders for an aging face.

"Hey, 'Geta," Bulma greeted her husband, using the nickname he loathed. She stood up and kissed his cheek and he gently brushed a hair away from her face.

"When was the last time you slept, woman?" he asked, seriously. It had been obvious to everyone in recent months that Vegeta had been far more protective over his family, play-dates for Bra having to be thoroughly vetted and Bulma having to be accompanied everywhere.

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you've slept much either," Bulma teased gently, brushing her fingers across the Saiyan Prince's cheek where dark rings lay. Vegeta just rolled his eyes and huffed. Bulma smirked and ran a hand through his dark hair, jumping slightly as the door opened behind them both.

Feeling Bulma start in his arms, Vegeta looked up and saw Dr. Evers and Dr. Druck leaning solemnly in the doorway.

"Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, would you mind following us?" Dr. Druck asked, his face forlorn. Glancing fearfully at one another, the couple spared a quick parting glance at their son before accompanying the two doctors to Dr. Evers office.

Vegeta felt himself tense up as he caught sight of the door. It looked exactly the same as the one where they'd been told Trunks was ill and in a coma all those months ago.

Dr. Druck sat down, Dr. Evers by his side, and both gestured for Bulma and Vegeta to take a seat.

Clearing his throat, Dr. Druck began. "What I have to say will doubtless be difficult for you both to hear, but you must bear in mind that it is only in the best interest of your son." Vegeta was instantly on alert and he sat up slightly straighter, ready to fight for his son if it came to it. He resisted the urge to smirk as he saw Bulma do the same from the corner of his eye.

"Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, you may be aware that every day, we take a measurement of Trunks' neurological activity. We are concerned that, since his…relapse, there has been little or no brain activity. Your son is being kept alive through machinery and we hope that you might agree with us to take your son off the respirator so that others may benefit more effectively from its services," Dr. Evers proposed.

There was a moment of stunned silence and apprehension hung in the air. Vegeta shot up, his hand slamming down on the doctor's desk, leaving a fist-shaped imprint.

"No!" he hissed. Bulma flared up beside him.

"I can have the best lawyers in the world over here in a moment! There is no way you are killing my son!" Bulma cried, adamant.

Dr. Druck stood up, feeling it appropriate for him to intervene. "Mrs. Briefs, your son is no longer with us! Surely you can see, as one of the world's most defiant campaigners in the fairness and equality, that it is simply cruel of you to keep Trunks alive when nothing will become of him," Dr. Druck spoke quietly, but with burning determination and the words hit the couple hard.

It just wasn't fair.

The thought ran through Vegeta's mind, over and over. He could almost hear the cogs of Bulma's brain ticking over and they looked at each other, each wondering the same thing. Were they bad parents for keeping their child alive when it was clear he had long since passed? Would they have failed their son if they let him go without a fight?

It just wasn't fair.

A thousand Trunks' flashed through Vegeta's mind. Baby Trunks learning to walk, Trunks' first day at school, Trunks at the World Martial Arts Tournament, Trunks on his first date, Trunks going to secondary school, Trunks falling out with Goten, Trunks eating, Trunks sleeping...A thousand different Trunks', all a crucial part of Vegeta's life.

His son.

Wasn't it his duty, as the Prince of All Saiyans, to do right by his son? As cold and as selfish as he appeared, he would do anything for his kin. Maybe it was time for him to make the ultimate sacrifice.

"Bulma…" he whispered gently. She looked at her husband fiercely, tears filling her cerulean eyes. They were right. There was nothing else to be done. Trunks was gone and it was selfish to hang onto him any longer.

It didn't mean she had to like it, though.

"Does this mean we can proceed?" Dr. Druck asked, gently.

Vegeta and Bulma both nodded once in unison, their heads turned away from one another, each gazing at a spot on the floor. It was becoming blurry.

"We'll make all the necessary arrangements. Please, offer your family the chance to say their farewells." Neither of the couple reacted at Dr. Evers words and stood silently as both doctors left the room, each muttering hushed sympathies as they went.

The remainder of the day passed eventfully. A date was set for later in the week and Bulma had flown into a sudden rage in the middle of the hospital screaming that no one could take her son away from her and demanding that the procedure of taking Trunks off the life support machine was cancelled.

It had taken all of five minutes and a strong tranquiliser to calm her down.

Very slowly, members of the Briefs family and the Z-Fighters and their families had drifted into the hospital to pay their respects. Some goodbyes had been worse than others and Vegeta found it difficult to keep his composure throughout all of them.

Eventually, though, the day came. Just Bulma and Vegeta were at Trunks' bedside.

It just wasn't fair.

With the exception of the mouth tube, Trunks could have been sleeping. He looked calm, peaceful, relaxed even. Brushing back a small clump of lavender hair, Vegeta wondered when something would go right in his life. If it weren't for the fact that he had a duty to his wife and young daughter, Vegeta precariously wondered if he'd be able to hold on to life.

He didn't think so.

"Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, we're about ready to start," the Heart and Lungs specialist said quietly. Already each clutching one of their son's hands, Bulma leaned forward and kissed her son on the forehead.

"Sleep well, kiddo," she whispered, the same words she'd been whispering for the past fifteen years. The tears that rolled down her cheeks were unstoppable.

This is a nightmare, her mind screamed at her. This can't be happening!

"You wait for me, Trunks, okay? Don't make me come find you," she growled playfully, dishevelled blue hair quavering as her voice cracked on a bitter, nasal laugh. Kissing her son on the cheek once, she sat back, sobbing quietly.

Vegeta was blank, his own thoughts reflecting those of Bulma's and more. He had failed once more.

You fail as a warrior, even as the Prince of All Saiyans, but now, you have failed the most. You have failed as a father.

The thought latched onto his brain, suffocating him of any emotion. Leaning forward once, he whispered a Saiyan prayer in his son's ear before leaning back.

"If we're ready…" the specialist's mumbled tones cut through the slow scene. A few moments of pressurised sounds occurred in the background, detected only to Vegeta's sensitive ears but they went unrewarded. As the life support machine cut off, one sound cut through Vegeta even more than that of Frieza's cruel laughter.

It was a flatline.

He gripped his son's hand tightly for a moment, focusing steadily on the boy's ki, expecting it to slowly wane and vanish.

It didn't.

Cracking his eyes open a slit, Vegeta stared down at his son, mind reeling. He could have sworn…

Did he hear an intake of breath?

Gingerly, oblivious to Bulma's loud sobbing next to him, Vegeta reached out and felt for a carotid pulse on Trunks' neck. Thready and weak, but definitely existent! Frowning in surprise and moving gently so as not to give himself false hope or damage Trunks further, Vegeta tapped his son's cheek gently.

"Son?" he whispered, knowing Bulma's ears would miss the near-silent word.

A gentle moan and a harsher intake of breath was his reward. Hope renewed, Vegeta jostled his wife.

"Bulma!" he gestured to her, raising her chin to force her to look at her son whose eyes were trying to peel themselves apart.

"Wha...-Trunks?" Bulma asked fearfully. There was a slight cough and hitching of breath as Trunks finally opened his eyes. His vision was blurry and it took a few lethargic blinks to clear them.

His voice was raw and he felt like someone had spent the last six months rubbing sandpaper down his throat.

"Wha's…up-p…guysss?" he slurred blearily, his voice croaking painfully. Laughing almost hysterically, Bulma kissed Trunks' head quickly before flying out of the room in search of Dr. Druck.

"S-sup wiv…'er?" he asked, groggily. Vegeta just chuckled; the boy had no idea. He forced the tears of joy that sprang to his eyes dutifully back down. The Prince of All Saiyans did not cry.

Hours later, Bulma and Vegeta were sat in the cafeteria of the hospital, both in happy silence, still reeling from the events of the earlier morning. Currently, Trunks was being taken for more X-Rays and CT scans to be one hundred percent sure that he was officially okay. While fully shocked at the way the day had unfolded, the doctors had ensured that the prognosis was good. Trunks wasn't in anyway affected by the minuscule neck break or the fever that had ravaged him earlier on in his treatment. It would take about a week of observation and then the promise of bed rest at home before Trunks could be released but overall Trunks was perfectly healthy.

Not for the first time, Vegeta silently thanked Dream Trunks, a version he'd known so briefly but had come to see that he represented more of the son in X-Ray right now than Vegeta first realised.

Laughing steadily having informed the other Z-Fighters of the sudden turn of events, the flame hair of the Saiyan Prince was easy to spot in the mostly empty cafeteria and the stout nurse quickly made for the odd parents of the unusual boy.

"Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, we require your assistance. Your son…" the words had no sooner left the nurse's lips before Vegeta was standing outside the room his son had been placed in momentarily.

With relief he noted that his son was still awake and breathing. He was thrashing violently on the bed, yelling ripped half-screams with his splintered throat as the doctors tried to get a hold on him so that one could inject a needle into his hand.

In a moment, Vegeta was inside the door. "GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Vegeta snarled, his protective Saiyan instincts kicking in fully. He'd come so damn close to losing his son in the past year and he wasn't about to let a team of doctors frighten the kid any further. He might not have the emotional capacity of something much more than a shrew, but even Vegeta knew that, after all Trunks had been through, terrifying the boy wasn't the way to get him to respond.

The doctors quickly sprang back. "Mr. Briefs, let me explain..." a braver doctor crept forward, trying to reason, but Vegeta silenced him with a look that clearly said say another word and I will snap your neck.

"Get out. Now!" Vegeta spat and, with that, the medical team fled the room. Vegeta walked over to his son's bed and looked at him.

A nasal cannula rested loosely beneath his nose, supplying him with pure oxygen as a precaution. An IV drip hung on a small frame beside the bed but the administrative tube flopped downwards and coiled itself on the floor, evidence of Trunks' refusal to have it put in.

Raising an eyebrow, Vegeta wordlessly asked for an explanation. Trunks huffed a moment but eventually opened up.

"They said…They said it...it would put me to sleep for a little while. But I don't want to sleep...I'm so sick of the dark...Of being trapped in my own head. I had…the weirdest dreams…" Trunks' voice trailed off and his face pinched together.

"I know." Was all Vegeta could reply with. Hell, he'd seen most of it himself. He had a pretty good idea of what Trunks had seen.

"C'mon, Dad. There's no way you could know," Trunks shook his head.

"Suicide, Trunks?" Vegeta asked. He watched as Trunks' tanned complexion, inherited from the Saiyan Prince, dropped a few shades.

"It's…not like that…" he stammered, desperately, swallowing a few times to moisten his raw throat.

Tapping his son's cheek lightly, Vegeta shook his head, sadly. "I saw it all, my son. When you are feeling stronger, we will talk about it, make no mistake."

"Dad, please," Trunks snorted, trying to downplay his severe depression prior to falling ill. "You? Talking? About feelings and cra-crud?" he said incredulously, trying to cover for his swear word.

Vegeta smirked. "You can tell your mother if you'd prefer," he suggested.

Once more losing the shades of colour he'd just earned back, the answer was a resounding "No!"

"Go back to sleep, son," Vegeta said softly, no hint of mockery in his tone whatsoever. Feeling his eyes water beneath closed lids as Bulma (always on Vegeta's wavelength) instructed the medical team in to reinsert the IV, Trunks hardly felt the sting of the needle between his own tough Saiyan skin and his father's hand gripping his own.

"Love you, Dad," Trunks snuffled as the sedative began to take effect.

And just before the drug took full effect, he saw a shadowy silhouette lean forward and heard him reply...

"I love you too, son."

Eight months later, the Briefs family were celebrating quietly in the back garden of the Capsule Corp. compound for Bra's sixth birthday. Bulma was laying out a spread of food for her Saiyan husband and half-Saiyan children and Trunks, Bra and Vegeta were engaging in a rough sport that involved throwing and catching the small daughter in mid-air.

Swooping down and laughing madly, Bra landed unsteadily beside her mother, her flying ability not quite fully honed yet. As Bulma began entertaining her youngest child, Vegeta and Trunks began to engage in a friendly sparring match.

Vegeta was truly proud of his son. He'd caught up quickly with the training he'd missed and was becoming stronger and more powerful than Vegeta ever envisioned he could. He was a true Saiyan warrior, worthy of the title 'Prince of All Saiyans'. Their talk had gone well and Trunks found himself no longer plagued with nightmares or thoughts of taking his own life during the day. He was so much happier than he'd been in a long time.

As Bulma called her boys down for lunch, Vegeta paused for a moment, gazing up at the clear blue sky. He gave a genuine smile and a tentative, appreciative nod of thanks before joining his family.

Dream Trunks caught it.

He smiled back.

FINAL A/N: WOOOOO! So there we go! Ahaha! It's finally over! Yes, I know it was very rushed, I know that the actual medical fact in this chapter is limited at best and I know it's cheesy and corny and I missed out the heart-to-heart between ol' 'Geta and Trunks but, in all honesty, I was sick of all the crap I was dumping on them, weren't you ;)?

So, this fic has gone in a direction I never imagined it would. But, thanks to you amazing, awesome readers, it's been on the up and up and is now a work that I can be proud of :). Honestly, guys, everyone who reviewed, added me to their Favourite Author's and this story to their Favourite Stories, put me on Author Alert, Story Alert, etc...I am so grateful! I cannot thank you all enough; I totally mean it when I say you are the best bunch of people in the whole of fanfiction :D. I absolutely love each and every one of you and I hope I managed to get round to everyone and reply saying just how much your support means to me :).

As for next fanfic and things, I know it says (for anyone who has seen it) that on my profile I will be posting my story, Lost, after this one but that's not gonna happen for awhile. It needs a hell of a lot of editing (I can't even tell you how much) and I feel kinda like I've lost my DBZ spark and I think it shows in a few places in this fic, so as of now (and also because of my exams and things) I am indefinitely on Hiatus.

Anyway, once again, thank you so much to everyone who stuck by me with this fic as I went through some rough times and toughed it out when I lost my nerve. I seriously cannot put it into words how much that means to me. I have met loads of awesome new people here and made some great new friends and your support means the world to me :D. Love all you guys and I hope you enjoyed it! ^_^

Love Racy
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