She knew as soon as she walked into the lab that this could turn out to go horribly wrong. The feeling was so strong, that she didn't even have Trunks or her father with her. Bulma was 90 percent sure that she could handle this experiment by herself, but there was a nagging 10 percent telling her that she should have asked for help.

She tried to shrug off the feeling. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a dangerous combination of chemicals, but she had the right gear. She was wearing a protective suit, and the barrier was on. She'd checked it this morning. Everything was connected properly.

Now she sat at the metal table, the hatched locked in case there was an accident. If anything happened, it would only happen to her, not her family. She wore her mask and gloves. Carefully, Bulma poured the hydrogen peroxide into the beaker. She already knew from basic chemistry that it was not supposed to come in contact with sulfuric acid. Unfortunately, the experiment she was working on involved the two. She held her breath. The only thing that could make the mixture detonate would be extreme heat or an earthquake. The lab was kept at a constant and cool 65 degrees, and she had already checked for seismic activity on the news. Both were highly improbable. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and continued to pour the mixture.

Just as she silently congratulated herself for her success, a beaker full of clear solvents next to her started to tremble. Rings formed in the liquid like a rock thrown into a calm pond. Then it started to bubble. With quiet horror, Bulma looked at the other beakers and vials. They were bubbling as well. Then she felt the table shudder, and her chair rolled violently backwards. It slammed into a wall, tossing her to the metal floor. She was under the table. With an array of toxic chemicals about her head. The ground shook harder. When she tucked her body to roll to the side, there was a blinding white light, and a sound that she felt deep inside of her. A flash of pain, and then utter darkness.

Bra was in a bad mood. Everyone was busy. Trunks was doing boring paperwork, Papa was out with Uncle Kakarrot, and Mama was in the lab. She played by herself for awhile, but there was only so much she could do. All her games and stories were boring by themselves. Mama always made them more interesting. She had the best ideas. Maybe she wasn't so busy anymore. She walked in a carefree step down the hall to the lab. There was a door with an access panel. She peeked into the window, and saw her grandpa. When she tapped at the glass, he smiled and let her in.

"Ah, little Bra. Looking for your Mama? I think she's still in the lab. It's a bit dangerous in there for little ones, but you can look through the glass at her if you want." He led her to the room her Bulma was in.

"See? There she is." Bra watched, but Mama wasn't paying attention. For some reason that made her a little angry. What was so important that she should be ignored? Next to the door was a panel. She had seen people go in and out the doors using this thing all time. It always let them in if they pressed the right buttons. She reached her tiny hand up onto the control pad, and pressed a pretty orange one. Dr, Briefs laughed.

"No, dear. That's not right button. Come to think of it, which one is that?" He stood there pondering, while Bra realized that door still wasn't opening.

"Ah, you've pressed the Barrier button. That's in case of explosion, I suppose. Now, was this already activated or...hmm…" His hand hovered over the orange button, but it stopped when he heard Bra's irritated voice.

"I want it to let me in, Grandpa. I wanna see Mama!" Suddenly the ground started quivering. Bra sucked in a breath. Had she done that with her anger? Then, it started to get stronger and stronger. She pitched to the floor, and she felt her grandpa over her, his soft body covering hers.

"Oops! My, my, there wasn't supposed to be an earthquake today!" The ground didn't shake for any longer than two or three minutes, but Bra felt something else. There was something very wrong. After the ground stopped shaking, she stood up.

"Grandpa! I want to see Mama!"

Dr. Briefs shrugged and pulled her up onto his shoulders. When Bra looked through the bulletproof glass, all she could see was smoke.

Vegeta reeled back, his arms blocking his face. He coughed on the smoke. When the blue light faded, he grimaced at Goku.

"Dammit, Kakarrot! We're not that far from the city, you idiot! You weren't supposed to put that much power into your Wave! Don't you have any sense of control?"

Goku laughed and brushed his hair from his eyes in a way that reminded Vegeta of a child.

"Sorry about that. I don't know my own strength sometimes."

"Well, figure it out. We are only 30 miles from West City, and if we make much of a fuss, people will get suspicious. Not to mention-" He was cut off by a sudden sharp feeling in his gut. It took him by surprise enough that he looked around for a second to see who his attacker was. His hand went to his stomach, and he blinked.

Goku frowned.

"What is it Vegeta? Did I actually hit you with that one?" He almost laughed, then he saw the expression on Vegeta's face. His eyes were wild, but not the kind of wildness he had in battle. His ki projected a strange feeling...the same feeling Goku got when his family was in trouble, and he needed to protect them.

"Something is...wrong…" Vegeta barely managed to choke the words out before he had his back turned to Goku, and was blasting full-speed towards West City.

Hovering above Capsule Corp., Vegeta was puzzled. Everything seemed in place. There was no damage done to the house. He tuned into his family's ki. Trunks was the easiest, since he was strongest. He found him quickly. He seemed fine. Then there was Bra. She was not hurt either, but there was something heavy about the energy he felt. Distraught somehow. Considering the fact that she was only four years old, that was pretty normal. Next was Bulma. She had a power level of 30 at her very highest, so it was difficult to find her. He searched for an unusual amount of time. After a minute or two he stopped, frustrated. Maybe she had gone shopping or something equally non-productive. He shook his head, clearing his mind. He would have to widen his range. After sifting through the entire city, he started to feel the sharp pain again. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. There were still many places she could be. He widened his range still more. Just when he was thinking that he should just land at the house and ask someone, he realized it. It was gone. Bulma's ki was nowhere at all. She...was gone…

The sharp pain hit him full force this time, and when he landed on the ground his legs gave in. He knelt there for a moment, trying to breathe. He searched out Trunks's ki again. This time his son felt as distraught as his daughter. They knew.

With a huge amount of effort, Vegeta stood up and walked through the front door. Everything was screaming at him. His muscles didn't want to move. His mind was shutting down. There was a mantra chanting inside, over and over again. "She's not gone...she's NOT gone. I won't believe it. This is a mistake." He sought out Trunks's energy, wishing for all the world that he didn't have to keep going forward. Wishing that he was back in the air, doing normal things. Fighting Kakarrot. Not thinking about his family. Not thinking about how much...he loved her.

"Where is she? Where is your mother?" He tried to sound calm, but the words stuck in his throat, and he knew that Trunks could feel his desperation. When he really looked at his son, at how pink his eyes were, and smelled the smoke still thick on him, he already knew.

"Dad…" His voice was small, light, a feather. "She's...There was an explosion…"

"Where?" His own voice was a whisper.

"The lab. She was in a sealed room. With chemicals...and that earthquake a few minutes ago…"

Vegeta had been in the air, entirely isolated from such things as earthquakes.

"It was just a small one...but…" Tears ran down Trunks's face.

"She didn't make it, Dad…" Drawing in a sharp breath, Vegeta pushed Trunks aside.

"Wait!" His son grabbed him by the shoulders. Vegeta stiffened and growled low in his throat.

"You won't find her in there, Dad…There's nothing...left." Vegeta's lungs froze. He suddenly forgot how to breathe. One of his gloved hands pressed against the metal wall. Something stable. Something to hold onto. His body felt like all of the muscles had turned into blood. He was caught in one of his nightmares. The one where something happened to Bulma. Where he couldn't protect her. There were a million ways he could protect her. It only took one for her to die.

Then, a bolt of lightning scorched through his mind. The earthquake. 30 miles from the city. Kakarrot's Kamehameha wave… Bulma working with 100 ways to die in her laboratory. All it had taken was one wave of power. And now she was gone.

Trunks had been right. There was nothing left. He stood at the door of the lab. It was completely empty. Shards of glass reduced to sand littered the floor. A bent and twisted piece of metal that might have been a table. But nothing of Bulma. Not even a single blue hair… He clamped his jaw shut, fighting against the bile that was rising in his throat. When he felt the edges of his vision start to darken, there was a swift rush of air at his side. Kakarrot.

He stood a foot above him. In his eyes there was a hesitant question. It turned into more than hesitation when he saw what was in Vegeta's eyes. There was a single moment, no longer than a blink, then Goku felt his body being smashed against the wall. He felt Vegeta's hands clawing at him, wild as a beast. They shredded at his clothes and tore at his hair. They were trying to reach beyond that. Past skin and bone...to the part that made Goku alive. And in the confusion of it all, the lower-class Saiyan stood there and allowed it. He couldn't sense Bulma's ki anymore either. He knew what was wrong, and that part of it was his fault.

Vegeta woke up. He hadn't been aware that he'd been asleep. His thoughts were sluggish, like he'd been knocked out. He tried to remember what happened. It came back to him in bits and pieces. An explosion. Bulma's ki...gone. Kakarrot. He remembered blind rage. All he'd wanted to do was kill him. Automatically, he searched for the Saiyan's ki. Alive and strong. There was no anger there when he thought of him anymore. The blast had been Goku's fault, but he couldn't blame the entire thing on him. Not when there were Dragonballs. If those didn't exist however, the story would be entirely different. The orange orbs shone in his mind. On the brink of his hysteria, as he had been tearing into Kakarrot, he remembered that someone had said something about the Dragonballs. Maybe it was Trunks. He couldn't believe that he had almost forgotten. Years of killing and destroying were embedded into his subconscious. Everything he had ever killed up until Namek had never come back. Part of him still didn't believe in it. So much destruction and darkness, and then the idea that you could wish for something to come back after it had been blown sky-high. He swallowed as he thought of that. Bulma. There was no time. She couldn't stay dead. There were too many years left. Too much time for him to be alone. Alone with a bunch of idiots. His mouth quirked up into a smile. He'd have to get her back.

He was digging around in the master bedroom when Trunks came in.

"Are you leaving?"

"What does it look like?" He muttered. He was throwing Bulma's clothes out of the closet.

"Mom's clothes...what…?"

"I'm trying to find one of those blasted radars. She's usually got one in her pocket or something." His stomach tightened with fresh pain, and he was getting tired of masking it in his voice. He had to hurry and get out of here.

"I have one in my work area if-"

"No. I'll use one of hers." Vegeta said, his tone brisk. Trunks was baffled. He wanted to state that it would take longer that way, but sometimes his father's logic only made sense to himself.

"Well, Mom made mine. It's just…" He sighed. Vegeta cursed as his fingers tore through one of her dresses. The whole damn closet smelled like her. He was going to lose it if he didn't find that radar now. Drawing in a full breath, he stood up straighter and pulled his hand through his hair. His composure was still there to gather, but there was less of it, and it bled away fast like a dripping wound. His eyes slashed through a row of her pants and shorts...and there it was. The top of a white knob sticking out of a deep pocket. He pinched it, pulling the radar out. Involuntarily, a sigh escaped him. Trunks echoed him with his own. He turned to him, training his eyes on his son's forehead. He couldn't bring himself to look into his eyes. Seeing his own pain reflected back at him was more than he could handle now.

"You know I have to do this alone, right?" Trunks nodded, then smiled very slightly.

"Even though you know it would go faster with more people searching?"

"Not much. Seven radars for seven balls? We'd end up searching for the radars longer than the damn balls. It's better this way. You know I'm the fastest among our idiot friends anyway."

"Right." He turned towards the bedroom door, then back.

"Hey, Dad?"

"What? Don't tell me there's going to be something wrong with my wish."

"No. And it's our wish." He paused.

"Well?" Vegeta's hands juggled the radar back and forth.

"It's about Goku...He...says he really sorry." Trunks's head was bowed as if he were apologizing. Vegeta scowled.

"I know. He's an idiot, but I shouldn't have tried to kill him. Tell him he's off the hook. For now. Anything else?" His son was in the middle of shaking his head when he felt a tug on the hem of his pants. He looked down and saw Bra. Making the mistake of looking in her eyes, he saw how full of tears they were.

"Bra. Don't cry. Your mother is coming back-"

"It's all my fault, Papa!" Vegeta knelt down and grasped her small shoulders.

"What do you mean? How could you-"

"The button! The one next to the door she was in. I wanted to see her...so I pushed the orange button. After that...everything…" She burst into tears. Vegeta pulled her close to him.

"It doesn't matter what you did, okay? Papa's wishing her back with the Dragonballs. You remember the stories, don't you?" He whispered in her ear. "I promise she'll be back before the day is over." Then he pulled away, smiling at her. She smiled back and gave him a thumbs-up. He did the same and pressed his thumb against hers. Then he stood up, turned to Trunks and gripped his shoulder. He managed to look into his eyes for a few seconds before he was out the door.

"Good luck, Dad." Trunks whispered.

It felt ten times better to be up in the air again. The air in the house had felt close and too warm. And he felt like he was breathing up the explosion. Like part of her was still there…He shuddered and gathered his ki tighter around him, putting on more speed. His arms were pulled in fast to his sides and his legs were closed, feet pointed out. As aerodynamic as a bullet. Even with all that, he still didn't feel like he was going fast enough. He didn't even know where he was going. The radar had shown no Dragonballs in the area, so he was going to keep flying until he heard it beep. Really, going as fast as he was didn't make any sense. As soon as he heard the radar, he was going to have to put on the brakes anyway. But it just felt so good. All of those emotions he had been feeling earlier were peeling off like dead skin and blowing away in the harsh wind. He needed to focus on only this. Flying faster made that possible.

Five minutes later, he heard the beep. He was wearing his brown leather jacket, the radar buried deep in the right-hand pocket. He was almost surprised that he could hear the signal over the wind blasting in his ears. He let go of the grip he held on his ki, and felt himself slow down. Taking out the radar, he glanced at the grid on a field of green. The first glowing dot was somewhere north. Far north. He scowled. Wasn't there any closer than that? He was fast enough, but it was annoying to go so far out of his way for only the first one. Then he remembered that you could zoom out. He had only seen the radar a handful of times, and then it was being used by someone else. He tapped the knob on the top and it made a beeping sound. The grid got smaller and he could see the shadows of mountains on the green. He smirked. There was one closer. In fact, it was only about ten miles from him. But there were no shadows around it. It was in the damn ocean. Great.

Before he reached the ocean, he took off his jacket and threw it on a jutting rock. Swimming around encased in leather wasn't the brightest idea. He left the radar there too. He didn't have anywhere else to put it and he couldn't remember if the blasted thing was waterproof. He was pretty sure it was, but he'd gotten a handle on where the Dragonball was without it. He remembered to zoom in the last time he glanced at it so the area was pinpointed. Since he knew it would be at the very bottom, he flew several feet into the air and took a deep breath before crashing fists first into the icy water. He was up north far enough for the autumn tide to be teeth-gritting cold. Fighting against all instincts to suck in a startled breath, Vegeta used his ki to dive to the very bottom of the ocean. He could feel the pressure building up fast, but it didn't bother him. He'd trained under 300 times the Earth's gravity. The ocean was a cake walk. The only thing that annoyed him was how dark it was. How the hell was he supposed to find the Dragonball in this pitch darkness? His mind went as fast as the lack of oxygen would allow it to. Could he somehow sense it? They didn't have ki, did they? He was pretty sure they didn't. Damn it all. Did he seriously just dive into the depths of the ocean without a light. Then it struck him like a blow in the face. Super Saiyan. Instantly, he powered up. The golden glow flowed around his body, lighting up the water around him for yards. His eyes darted everywhere in his line of vision. The pressure from the water didn't bother his bones or muscles, but it was slowly forcing the air out of his lungs. They were only half full now, when they should have had at least ¾ left. Saiyans had exceptional lung capacity. It came very handy in battle. And for just screaming your head off, whether it be for a battle cry or out of pure frustration. Vegeta moved faster through the water. The Dragonball should be very close now. He had the image of the radar screen in his head. After a few more minutes of air was squeezed out of his lungs, his golden light finally glanced off a round, smooth surface. He would have sighed with relief if it didn't mean drowning himself. He moved towards it and grabbed it. He had to pull the slightest bit, and it left an impression of mud behind. It was the 6 star ball. He gripped it hard in his hand and did a back-flip, re-orienting himself in the water. Now that he faced the surface, he put all his energy into getting back up. Surging higher, he blasted out of the sea with ¼ of oxygen in his lungs. He gasped and continued to fly upward. After a bit of air drying, he found his jacket and put it back on. Now he faced another dilemma. In his hurry to get out of the house, he had forgotten to bring a bag for the Dragonballs. He scowled. For now he would just have to fit as many in his jacket pockets as he could. Luckily, the balls were small and the pockets were deep. Just as he was about to put the 6 star ball in, he was seized with a sudden memory. It was far enough into the past that he knew it couldn't be random. It had to be some sort of magic in the glowing orb. He held onto it a while longer, remembering.

It was evening. He'd been in the training capsule all day, gathering more and more power, becoming ever stronger. At the end of the day, he was pretty exhausted. He remembered how he would stumble into Capsule Corp, tired and hungry as a savage wolf. Back then it hadn't been his home yet. He didn't even really know what the word "home" meant. The last place he would ever call that had been Planet Vegeta. And that seemed absurdly long ago.

He had traipsed into the kitchen after that long day, planning to dig through the refrigerator. He did know how to cook, but only over an open fire. He was always too tired to figure out how to do it with electricity. He had felt her weak ki the moment he stepped inside. Usually, she would be in the upper part of the house, in her rooms. He scowled, knowing that he was extremely tired, and that he would have to try his hardest not to show it. He couldn't stand the thought that she would pity him, even for one second. So he had stood up straighter, and tried to keep his eyes open.

"What are you doing here?" Was the first thing out of his mouth.

"It's my kitchen. Why wouldn't I be here?" Her back was still turned to him. His eyes narrowed. She had a point. Why would he ask her why she was somewhere in her own damn house? Woman really did make him think slower than usual.

"Well, I'm starving, so you better not get in my way." He walked over the fridge, trying hard not to drag his feet. There was sweat coursing down his skin, but he was too hungry to wipe it off. Instead of complaining about his lack of manners, Bulma had just laughed quietly.

"Do you want what I'm making? I realized I hadn't eaten dinner, so I'm making some."

"What is it?" he asked. "If it's not meat or vegetables, I'm not eating it."

"Well, you're in luck." Her voice had a happy chime to it. "It's both." He grunted for an answer and sat down.

"There better be a lot in there." Bulma looked at the frying pan.

"You don't eat as much as Goku, do you?"

He paused before answering.

"I can...but I don't. It's revolting to stuff yourself so full. I only need about two platefuls to be satisfied right now. Can you manage that?" She had only shrugged. "Sure."

He had watched as she cooked the pork, potatoes and green beans. Then she dished the whole thing on one plate. After she gave it all to him, there was an empty pan. He hadn't said anything because he was so hungry, and really, he hadn't known about consideration back then. He just took what he wanted when he wanted it. Bulma had taken out fresh food for herself and started all over again. By the time she was done cooking her own share, he was polishing off his plate. She sat down at the table with him and grinned.

"You certainly eat as fast as Goku, anyway." He would have left the table, but he was so tired, all he wanted to do was slump over in that chair and fall asleep, using his arms for a pillow. Without even responding, he felt his eyelids lower. But he still heard her soft voice.

"You work so hard, Vegeta. It's really pretty admirable. I'm glad that you eat and sleep like the rest of us, though. It makes you more human." The idea was an insult, and he remembered that he had arched his eyebrow a bit, but was too exhausted to manage anything else. His head was lowered onto his arms before he could even stop himself. But before he had drifted off, her chair scraped the floor. He felt her near him, and he was unable to move. He had trained in 300 times Earth's gravity that day for the first time, and it had taken its toll on his body. He felt her hand on his shoulder. It was warm and soft, and it lingered for a while. Then there was something covering him. It was a blanket. She must have felt how cool his skin was from all the sweat. He could have handled a little chill, being a Saiyan and all, but he could still remember how that blanket reminded him of something far off in his memory. It was almost like being safe.

Vegeta put the 6 star ball in his pocket and smirked to himself. So...there was to be a memory of Bulma with each Dragonball. So be it. It would help speed things along in getting her back.