A/N:

Hi! Did you miss me? As you might have guessed based on the summary (which I actually haven't written yet, but I'm assuming it'll mention something), this is the sequel to my recently completed story Make A Wish. If you have not read Make A Wish, I really, really, suggest you do. Otherwise this story might not make too much sense. But I can't really force you to so anything, so if for whatever reason you don't want to read my completed story, then..well...have fun :D

Sorry that I've been so busy lately. I meant to post this yesterday, but then remembered that I had a tournament this weekend and needed to train my ass off. But, apparently training your ass off leads to purple feet that hurt when you walk, so I'm currently somewhat crippled. Which is bad for me and classes, but good for me and writing :D

I wanted to mention that this will NOT be a retelling of DBZ. I mean, you can just buy the manga if you wanted a retelling. As the title suggests, this is about the after effects of Make A Wish. I want to thank everyone that offered title suggestions for this story, but I seriously just had an idea for a title right after I posted the last chapter. Huh, go figure. But thank you guys for all of you wonderful suggestions :D I couldn't choose one, so I didn't choose any...if that makes sense. I'll stop talking now.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to DB/DBZ/DBGT. I'd be much richer and older if I did.

Part II

Twelve Years Later

She couldn't believe it. She was going to be late. Too late. The last thing she wanted to hear was Roshi or Krillin lecturing her about time. Bulma grabbed her bag, stopping at the mirror by the front door and taking in her appearance. It had been years since she last seen her friends, but she really didn't seem too bad. Her hair was a lot shorter, so much easier to work with in the back laboratories of Capsule Corp. She wore baggier clothing, but that was more to prevent any more of Roshi's inappropriate passes. Maybe he'll think I'm too old now and move on. The thought brought an unfamiliar combination of fear and relief. Bulma didn't look 28. At least, she didn't think so. Sure her style might have matured a bit from ribbons and short pink dresses, but she had no wrinkles, no fine lines, no age spots. Which was a blessing considering her job.

If she thought traveling with Goku and co. had been stressful, she had no idea what it would be like catering to stuffy old windbags all day. Half of them couldn't care less of what she had to say, even though she was Vice President of one of the richest corporations on Earth, and the other half made Roshi look like a newly confirmed monk. The board meetings were a nice challenge, she supposed, for her more verbal and fiery nature. But if she had a choice, she would have much preferred holding herself hostage in a laboratory, straining over some (probably) useless invention until her eyes burned with exhaustion.

But who was she kidding?

If she really, truly, had her way, she'd be out in the world again. Fresh air. New challenges. There were no limits it seemed, when she was with her friends back in her 'so called' youth. Her life had come to a screeching halt after the World Martial Arts tournament. Goku had actually married that girl, while the rest of her friends went back to training. Well, except Yamcha, if he could even be counted as her friend. She unconsciously gritted her teeth, thinking of him. Jerk! How dare he!

Bulma found herself increasingly happy that she managed to get his answering machine, telling him that if he even thought about going to the reunion today she would personally see him castrated. They were her friends first. No way was she going to share them with some lying, cheating creep.

They had been dating for ten years. Ten years. It was more than some marriages lasted, now that she thought of it. It had been silly at first, trying to assimilate a desert bandit into the normal, everyday life of a West City inhabitant. They had laughed when Yamcha thought her mother's pet dinosaurs were wild or when she first introduced him to the movies. It had been there first real date, him blushingly holding her hand as they ordered salty popcorn, sitting next to each other and sneaking sideward glances at some of the more romantic scenes. She was happy that he had finally mellowed around her. She didn't want her boyfriend to have an asthma attack whenever she touched him. No, no. Yamcha had adjusted. The once shy, clueless desert bandit had soon turned into quite the sweet talker. He started bringing her roses and candy, like any normal boyfriend. He brought her to nice restaurants, bought her teddy bears that sang corny love songs, and always remembered her birthday. He was practically perfect. Until he totally fucked up.

She supposed she had seen it coming for a while. The missed dates, the guilty repentances, the lame excuses, the perfume that made him smell like some giddy, teenaged ditz. But it wasn't until she actually went to his apartment, the thick smell of sweat and afterglow stinging her as soon as she entered his bedroom.

There was a lacy pair of pink and yellow underwear on his bed, seeming to be left so carelessly. But it was so out in the open, staring her in the face as if smacking her in the head screaming, "Look, Bulma. Perfect boyfriends just turn out to be cheating bastards!" She berated him ruthlessly afterwards, calling him an "asshole", "dickhead", "backstabber". He took it all without a word, first trying to claim they were hers. As if. I wouldn't buy such cheap trash. And then going on to explain that it was just some fling.

She couldn't care less. Fling or not they were done.

It had killed her pride a little to think he needed to turn to someone else. Was she not satisfying him enough? She snuffed. If that were the case, she couldn't help but confess that the feeling was sometimes mutual. They never really had the sturdiest of relationships, but after ten years, their droning repetition became a well known tune.

She tried to calm down, seeing the small island suddenly come into her view. They were all outside, obviously waiting for her. She hadn't intended on being so late. Bulma just wanted to take a little nap before their little get together. That was it. She had no way intended on having that dream again. It was probably just because of Yamcha. That would have made the most sense. They used to be more frequent when she was younger, after she had first come back from Karbos. But that was over a decade ago.

The beginning would be the same every time, nothing changing, always the same old scene. It was dark. Nothing but metal and small panes of glass, showing the cruel frontier of space outlined as far as visibly possible, even from a Saiyan's eyes. He would look out of that window, arms crossed, chin up, looking as arrogant as she remembered. There would be footsteps coming down the hallway. One. Two. Three. The Saiyan Prince would turn around, scowling at the new figure next to him and then following him down the hall.

Their figures glided smoothly through the hallway, the blue skinned one's cape flicking up at the fast pace. They stopped at a tall, arched metal door, the blue skinned one touching the Saiyan lightly on the shoulder, earning him a scowl. "It's what you deserve." At those words the doors would slide open, revealing nothing but a dark room.

The Saiyan Prince walked further, unaccompanied. He immediately went down to one knee, right arm flush against his chest as his head bent downwards. She hated seeing him like this. "My lord."

That voice came back, that almost effeminate, sickly voice that echoed in her brain on the worst of cold nights. It was on those nights that she would cuddle closer to Yamcha, relishing in the soft warmth his body radiated. His arm muscles systematically responded to her body's chills, lazily spreading across her in fake protection. But there was no Yamcha when she had napped; there was nothing to wake her up this time.

"You've been a bad boy, Vegeta."

She felt her skin crawl at the monster's voice, as if his white, long fingers were sliding disgustingly across her arms. The Saiyan Prince didn't look up but just pushed his chin deeper into her chest. It was then she realized she was standing in the doorway, speechless, breathless, motionless. She stood there frozen as the monster continued to speak.

"You thought this wouldn't have any repercussions?"

"I...don't know what you are talking about, my lord." His submission disgusted her. She wanted to move but found her legs glued to the floor. "What did I do to..."

"Idiot, filthy monkey! You should have burned with the rest of your disgusting planet! How dare you even think of rebelling against me! Using that stupid girl as a spy! HA!" His voice cackled across the room, and Vegeta noticeably flinched. "You thought I would just let you have her? You thought that she came to you so freely? You're a fool." The monster came into her line of vision, no longer in that hover contraption, but standing on his short yet muscular legs. His long tail snapped in the air, hitting Vegeta directly across the cheek and slamming the Saiyan to the ground. "Everyone is under my thumb. Remember that."

Vegeta crawled back up on his hands. She scowled seeing his face already bruising and blood falling from his mouth. He was still so young, not a day older than when she had last saw him. His pointed black hair look disheveled, messy, and she saw the hollow look in his eyes. "Lord Frieza..."

"Do not speak to me. The girl told me of your treachery. You're nothing but a dirty Saiyan, Vegeta. And for that you need to be punished."

"NO!" She would cry, but no one would hear. She yelled until her voice cracked, but neither one of them even turned to her direction. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Her nails scraped against her palm as her fist clenched, earning her the wet reward of her own blood.

Frieza slammed his tail against the Saiyan again, dragging him to the ground. His white, cold hands roughly tore at the end of Vegeta's tail, making the prince let out a blood curdling yell. It echoed through the dark room, never fading in Bulma's mind. "STOP IT!

Vegeta's face was bloody and purple. Freiza kicked him brutally in the chin and then grabbed him by the throat, sending the young boy against the metallic wall. "You disgust me. You and your whole pathetic race. What pride can a bunch of monkeys have? How are you even a prince? Are you the only one decent enough not to scratch his ass in public?" He cruelly laughed and slammed his broken body again on the wall. "Such a pathetic creature doesn't deserve the title of prince."

With that, he dropped Vegeta's limb body to the ground, igniting a ki blast and lodging it deep into the Saiyan's core. He coughed up warm scarlet blood and his head looked practically lifeless. He didn't even have the energy to wipe the stain from his lips.

"Vegeta!" Freiza was gone by then. She was the only one there, only her voice and the soft flow of blood sounding in the room. "Vegeta!" She kneeled down in the wet puddle, getting her lab coat all wet. This part had been different. She was wearing that gold bracelet Yamcha had bought her on their fifth anniversary. She was a grown woman now, short hair, glasses and cigarettes tucked inside her jeans pocket. "Vegeta..." The tears rolled from her eyes, blurring her vision, and she quickly wiped them away. Her hands went across his young face to scrape the blood, but she felt her whole body grow weak. Her tears brought her head down to his chest, blue hair soaked and crusted over in fresh blood. The salt of her tears burned her dry skin, and she wrapped her arms around the Saiyan. "Vegeta, wake up."

But his eyes were always open, solid black, without light. She was surprised to still feel force in his hand when he grabbed her and vehemently brought her up to his face. "You did this." The pain he felt ate at her. "I trusted you."

"Bulma?"

She really was on auto pilot. It took her a second to realize she had already landed by the Kame House, her plane beside her, and Krillin and Master Roshi looking at her, wide eyed. "Oh, hey guys!" She took one glance around and then looked at her watch, "Where's Goku? And why are you guys outside? That desperate to see me I guess?"

Krillin shook his head, "...We weren't waiting for you. Goku had to leave with Piccolo."

What? That had to be the weirdest thing she ever heard. Sure, maybe Goku had to leave to fight Piccolo or stop Piccolo from taking over the world, but never, ever would Goku go with Piccolo for any other reason. "Is something wrong?"

Krillin gulped, not really knowing what to say, "This...guy came. He took Goku's son and flew off, saying something about how Goku was from another planet."

Her heart stopped. She hadn't really intended on telling Goku about his true heritage. It would be too confusing, too unbelievable. And of course it would lead to questions asking of how she knew that. And that would lead to questions about Vegeta, which she was not prepared to ever answer. There was too much in that one sentence for Bulma to digest. She tried to steady her knees, gulping before asking the question she was least interested in, "Goku has a son?"

"Yeah, he wanted to surprise us with the kid." Roshi shook his head. "Poor boy was kidnapped by a guy claiming to be his own uncle. Anyway, you have my truffles, Bulma?"

If she had been drinking she would have choked, "Un-Uncle?" She immediately turned around, confusing everyone around her. Raditz? Is it Raditz? What's going on? She had one leg up onto her Capsule plane when Krillin protested.

"Bulma! What do you think you're doing!"

"Mind your own business!"

Krillin shook her head, following her over to the plane, "If you're going to Goku and Piccolo, I'm coming with you!"

"Then fly behind me! I don't have much room in here." She fuddled through the yellow plane, turning on the dials rapidly and buckling up. Her hands fumbled with the small white and gold box, "And here are your stupid truffles!" She tossed the box to Roshi before letting the plane take off, Krillin close behind her.

Her brain was banging, thoughts running and colliding, past experiences that she wished to forget stirring in the present. Raditz... What was he doing here? She didn't think it was just some brotherly check up, not if Piccolo had to get involved. Plus, he apparently kidnapped his own nephew. Talk about family problems. Bulma couldn't help herself from thinking if another Saiyan had accompanied him here. "KRILLIN!" She shouted through the side of the plane, "CAN YOU SENSE THEM?"

The bald man nodded and flew up in front of her, leading her further and further across the sea and back over land. Krillin moved to the side and stopped suddenly when they came across a large field next to a mountain range. Bulma let the plane hover and leaned over the edge where she was able to make out three figures. "They're down there, aren't they?"

Krillin nodded curtly, "Goku didn't want me to fight since I couldn't be wished back by the dragon balls. But this guy Bulma...he's unbelievable. One kick and he sent me through Kame House."

Has Raditz gotten stronger? She remembered Vegeta thinking he was pathetic, but Bulma didn't want to think her friends were that weak. She guided the plane down, interrupting the three fighters on the ground next to her. Krillin landed right in front of her, arms out stretched. "Bulma, are you insane? You're no match for him! Don't get yourself killed. Trust me, it sucks."

"Krillin..." She was barely hearing him. The scene before her was so unreal. There was Goku, not looking any older than when she had last seen him, in his orange gi next to Piccolo. Of all people to be his ally, this would have been the last one she'd expect. But it wasn't just that. The villain they were facing was a lost face, a person from an entirely different world. "Oh, Kami, it is Raditz."

He was older now, as he should have been, his black unruly hair looking even more disheveled than it was over a decade ago, if at all possible. His green scouter framed one of his eyes, and Bulma's memories came back in one fluid flash. She was excited the last time she had seen him. He had heard of her planet and knew Goku.

"STAY BACK!" Goku was shouting at them when he saw her approaching. But Bulma couldn't listen. Her memories were livid. The pointed armor, the dark hair, the scouters...it all reminded her of her wish, of Vegeta. "Bulma! What do you think you're doing?"

Raditz cocked an eyebrow when Bulma walked up to him, unafraid. Her palms were sweating at the lack of recognition on Raditz's face. He just stared at her, dumbfounded by her actions. "Goku...I can handle this."

The other Saiyan across from her hit a button on the scouter, "Hmph. You're power level is a measly 2. You wouldn't last ten seconds against me."

Really a 2? Still? But this wasn't the time to complain or think about going to the gym more. She held her hands on her hips, eyeing Raditz fiercely. "I'm not going to fight you, Raditz." Bulma gulped, feeling Goku right behind her. Her long time friend grabbed her wrist, patently tugging her back, but Bulms stood her ground, "You don't want to kill your brother, do you?"

He huffed, "He is no longer my brother. You Earthlings brainwashed him into thinking he was some pathetic human! You even cut off his tail!" Raditz was infuriated. "The least I can do is take my nephew to be raised like a proper Saiyan."

"Bulma, leave. Now."

It was rare for her to hear the serious tone in Goku's voice. He was holding her tightly now, almost breaking her wrist, but Bulma refused to shudder. Raditz hadn't recognized her, which wasn't too surprising since they hadn't seen each other in years. She needed to spark his memory. "Are you taking him to Vegeta?"

That did it.

Raditz flashed in front of her, not touching her, but looking at her, clear confusion all over his face. "...It can't be..."

Goku let go of her wrist and scratched his head at the sudden shift in tension, "Bulma, what are you talking about?"

She held up a finger to Raditz. "Wait a second okay?" The stunned Saiyan dimly nodded, and Bulma sighed before continuing. "Look Goku...I...kind of know about you. About how you're a Saiyan."

Her friend inhaled sharply, "You what?"

"I...met some people 12 years ago, remember? When I made that wish?" She sighed when Goku just looked at her blankly, "I met Raditz on a different planet...I know it's ridiculous but..."

Her words stopped short as a bright flash of light heated the air and slammed into something soft. There was a deep yell of unbearable pain, and both her and Goku glanced over to the right, seeing Piccolo's purple blood spilled all over the grassy field. His white eyes glazed over, looking stark and cold on his fading green body. "...Piccolo..." Goku's voice was soft, as if he had been a fallen comrade. The younger Saiyan turned sharply to face his brother, "You Bastard!"

"Goku, no!" She held onto his arm fully, letting his dark eyes glance down to her in anger and surprise. "Don't do this. We can't afford to have you die."

"The Namekian was trying to take your son back, Kakarot. I couldn't let that happen." Raditz grimly smiled and then turned his attention back to Bulma, "You, girl...how did you ever escape Karbos?" Raditz groaned in displeasure, "Zarbon made it his duty to kick the shit out of me for 5 years when I had failed that mission. Though I guess I should thank you."

"Huh?"

Raditz's gaze unlocked from hers and went to Goku's, "Saiyans get stronger after they recover from a near death experience. Perhaps, I should do you a favor, brother."In an instant, Raditz's fist collided with Goku's abdomen. The fighter bent over in torturous pain, and his older brother took full advantage, slinging his muscular leg into Goku's back and sending him crashing into a nearby cliff.

"ASSHOLE!" Bulma went forward, anger blinding her rational intelligence. She lifted her hand to smack the Saiyan, but Raditz just grabbed her, holding her arm roughly.

"How did you escape Karbos?"

Fear spread through every inch of her. Her blue eyes flashed to Piccolo's dead body, to Goku's unconscious form, and then to Raditz's pod, where a small little boy sat there bawling in shock. "I...the dragon balls."

"The what?"

"They...grant wishes...Goku had wished me back using them."

The Saiyan looked at her, trying to see if she was being deceitful, but only seemed more confused. "They grant wishes?"

"Well, they did." There was no reason to hide the dragon balls anymore, not with Piccolo dead. "But now that you killed Piccolo, they're gone! So good job! You could have wished for anything, but you just had to kill him, huh!"

Raditz ignored her outburst, pressing another button on the scouter, "Vegeta, did you hear that?"

Bulma froze. He's...he's...

There was a soft grumble from the scouter, and Raditz nodded, "Yes, it seems that the Namekians may have these devices that grant any wish...No! no! I'm not making it up...You see that girl...what girl?...that girl you had, the Earthling... Just one year, please..." Raditz became silent, nodding his head over the low grumbles, making random affirmations over the scouter.

Bulma hesitantly bit her lip. Vegeta...is this for real? She bit down harsher, drawing blood. Yeah, she wasn't dreaming.

"Look, girl." Raditz spoke quickly, "I will be training my nephew, and if you and my brother want to see him again, you will go to Namek one year from today and help us locate these balls."

Namek? "But how am I supposed to get there? Where's Namek?"

Raditz shrugged, "Prince Vegeta says that if you are truly Bulma then you'll figure it out. You're supposed to be a genius of some sort."

She inwardly smirked. He would say that. Bulma pushed the thoughts of Vegeta away, looking instead at the little boy in the space pod. "If you hurt him..."

"It is for his own good, girl. He will be a strong fighter."

Bulma shook her head, "Don't let Frieza touch him...please, Raditz."

The Saiyan just began to hover, "I'm his uncle." He started to fly back to the space pod, but then stopped, powering down and eyeing Bulma strangely, "You should feel lucky my prince has asked to leave your planet intact. But I do hope the next time we meet, my brother will not be so weak." He paused a bit, "The Namekian had to die, I hope you understand."

She hadn't really cared about Piccolo. Sure it was awful taking another's life, but with the power Raditz held, she was just grateful the field wasn't burning around her. Piccolo wasn't exactly the nicest guy here, and he had gotten in the way of Raditz's plans. Half of her was happy, actually. The guy was probably training these past couple of years just to kill Goku, and now he wouldn't have the chance to. But she knew with his death brought the disappearance of the dragon balls and that was a scary thought. Unless this Namek place has them too. She had always assumed Piccolo was an alien. He was green after all. Maybe this Namek is his home planet. Maybe they have dragon balls too. It did explain their future meeting place. "You...Saiyans..." she lost her voice, that one thought overpowering her, "Vegeta..."

Raditz half smiled and turned back to his space pod. He was far away, but Bulma noticed the quick decisive hand motion. He knocked his nephew unconscious and then went into the space pod, leaving as if he had never came.

Bulma quickly rushed over to Goku. He was bloody and must have at least broken his legs. Bruises dotted his body, and Bulma quickly took of her white jacket, wrapping it around one of the worst wounds on his shoulder. Krillin was right there next to him, holding his best friend's head in his lap. He looked up to Bulma, rightfully confused, "Mind telling me what the Hell just happened there? Why did you let him take Gohan? Why would you make a deal with him?"

She didn't know what to say. Goku would be furious with her when he woke up, and she could only imagine how Chichi would feel, her little boy kidnapped by some psychopathic long lost family member. But it seemed like the only option she had. Namek in one year... The thought was so prominent in her mind, taking over every inch of her memory. Her dream had just been a nightmare after all. He wasn't defeated or killed or laying in his own pool of blood. "...He's alive."

A/N:

I didn't want to do this at the beginning (for some reason...gosh, who knows how my mind works), but THANKS TO EVERYONE that reviewed Make A Wish! I hope this answered your need for a sequel. If you're wondering when the next part will be posted, I'm thinking of a once a week type of a deal since I don't have that many chapters posted. And instead of studying for econ, I will be writing tonight :D

Since this is technically a new story...I guess, I'm not going to personally thank everyone, but just know that your reviews meant a lot to me, and I will continue the massive review paragraph next chapter! Thanks everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! If you have questions, comments, concerns, just leave me a review or PM (I really appreciate them :D)