Vegeta took his time flying across town. It was the first time he had flown in months, and his muscles were a bit rusty; age didn't help either. He landed in Gohan's front yard and walked to the front door.

It was 3am, but Vegeta didn't care about formalities. He pounded on the door and waited irritably for someone to answer.

He watched as a few lights switched on then Gohan opened the front door.

"Vegeta, what are you doing here? It's 3 in the morning."

"I dont give a shit," he responded sharply. "Goten said you haven't called him or visited your mother. I want to know why."

Gohan rubbed his eyes tiredly and stepped out of the door, quietly closing it shut.

"Work has been...insane. I'm teaching 8 classes. I have seminars to tend to...it's a lot right now."

"That's no way to treat the woman who gave birth and sacrificed so much for you," Vegeta snarled.

"Look," Gohan sighed, "I'll rearrange my schedule and I'll visit her sometime next week. Does that work for you?"

Vegeta could feel his frustrations building. Gohan seemed completely removed and apathetic to his mother's failing condition. Vegeta walked up to the younger saiyan and gave him a tense look.

"You'll be there tomorrow evening at 6, and don't make me look for you!"

Vegeta patiently waited outside as 7pm hit. He told Gohan to be there and it wouldn't end well for him if he did not show. He watched as the small economical car pulled into the large circular driveway.

Gohan got out of the car, still dressed in his work attire, "Sorry I'm late! I had a conference that went on longer than I expected."

Vegeta grunted, signaling Gohan to go inside the home. He followed behind him where his mother was sitting in front of the television knitting.

"Hey mom," Gohan called out as he approached her.

Chichi turned her head and smiled, "Gohan!"

She slowly rose from the sofa and gave her son a hug. "I missed you so much!"

He squeezed her tightly and kissed her on the cheek, "I missed you too mom!"

She took a step back and admired her son, "You've gotten so tall!"

"Uh...yeah mom I did." Gohan looked up at Vegeta with a confused expression.

Vegeta leaned against the wall near the doorway. He had to look away from them. It bothered him to see her like this.

"Gohan, you look hungry, let me cook for you. I can make your favorite!" Chichi picked up her knitting needles and headed towards the kitchen.

"No you won't," Vegeta said, stopping her at the doorway. "No one is going to keep cleaning up your messes." Vegeta grabbed the knitting needles out of her hands and called for her nurse.

"You can go get out of those clothes you've been wearing the last two days and I'll take care of the food."

"Okay then," Chichi nodded.

The nurse grabbed her hand and led her out of the room.

Chichi stopped and smiled at Vegeta, "Bulma's so lucky to have you!"

Vegeta didn't have words. She didn't know what she was saying; correcting her wouldn't make a difference, but it still stung no less. He placed the knitting needles in a drawer and locked it.

He then looked up at Gohan who was studying the locks on the doors and windows.

"What's going on with this," Goten asked, pulling on the locked double doors.

"She started getting out of the house, and could have hurt herself. So your brother had those put in."

Gohan faced the window with his hands in his pockets, "Where is Goten?"

"I told him to go to work today and that I'll keep an eye on your mother. I didn't tell him you were coming, just in case you decided not to show up."

Gohan turned to Vegeta. The last time they saw each other was at Bulma's funeral, and it had been years before that.

"So how have you been Vegeta," Gohan asked sincerely.

He couldn't answer that question. If he did, he would surely break down. Besides Bra, no one saw that side of him.

"Worry about your own mother, don't worry about me," Vegeta snapped.

Vegeta walked out of the room and into the kitchen. He leaned over the sink, grabbit the edge of it and clenched his eyes shut. He promised himself he wouldn't do this crying thing. He had to be strong no matter what, there was no one else left.

Gohan, Goten, Bra, Vegeta and Chichi sat at the dinner table. Everyone ate in silence as the awkwardness filled the room.

It was the first time Vegeta sat down and had dinner as a family in months. The last time was the night of Bulma's funeral. He and Trunks had a screaming match, in which Trunks blamed him for his mother's death. They haven't spoken to each other since.

"So Gohan, how's work," Goten asked, breaking the silence.

"It's been going," Gohan smiled. "Trunks actually sat in on my last seminar. We got lunch afterwards."

The mention of Trunks caused a bit of uneasiness amongst the table that Gohan wasn't aware of. Bra quickly diverted the conversation to another topic. "How's Videl and Pan?"

"They are good as well. Videl is still running her father's dojo and Pan and Uub are still teaching. It's grown a lot since you all last visited."

"We'll have to visit soon won't we Goten," Bra smiled looking at her husband.

Goten nodded, "Definitely!"

They all ate dinner and reminisced on the good ole days, with Goten cracking jokes the entire time. Vegeta even let out a chuckle or two.

"It's good seeing you all again," Gohan laughed. "I haven't laughed like this in years."

Bra smiled, "Then you should stop by more often. You're always welcome here."

"Oh Gohan," Chichi interjected. "I made something for Pan." Chichi reached beneath the table and pulled out a small, pink crochet baby onesie. "Isn't it cute?"

Gohan shook his head, "Yeah mom, but Pan can't fit into that."

"No worries, I'll just make her another one. Babies grow so fast." She stuffed the onesie back into the gift bag under the table.

"It's beautiful Chichi," Bra reaffirmed, touching her hand.

"Thank you dear. Gohan, maybe your father could help you with your work. He's not the brightest, but I'm sure he could help you with something."

Vegeta and Goten quickly glanced at each other, while Gohan pushed his food around on his plate. Chichi's memory was slipping again.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't ask him," Chichi sighed. "He would rather train on another planet than be with his own sons."

The table grew quiet again, as Chichi continued.

"You boys were the greatest thing that came out of that relationship. I forget everything else, but I can't seem to forget the pain he caused me all these years."

Bra reached over to Chichi and grabbed her hand again, "It's okay."

Gohan dropped his fork and took a deep breath, "Mom, dad sacrificed everything for all of us over and over again. We would all be dead without him. I would think you would be more grateful."

Vegeta grunted, not taking his eyes off his food.

"Calm down, she doesn't know what she's saying. She's sick," Goten mentioned to his brother from across the table.

"She does this all the time. Before dad died, before she was sick." Gohan turned to his mother who seemed deeply confused, "I know he hurt you, but he did what he had to do."

"Yeah," Chichi responded, "Like almost getting you killed and constantly beaten to an inch of your life."

Gohan threw his head back, "I'm not arguing with you about this anymore!"

"Okay, can we all calm down and eat please," Bra said.

Vegeta appreciated his daughter always playing referee between the men in her life, it reminded him so much of Bulma.

"So why dont you be just like him and leave! That's what you're good at anyway! You haven't visited or called me in months. You're just like your father. I wish I never had you! I wish I never put myself through years of torment, financial struggles and constantly being alone."

Chichi got up from the table and walked out of the dining area crying. Bra quickly followed her.

And this is why Vegeta didn't do family dinners; they always ended in an argument and tears.

Gohan and Goten sat there in silence as Vegeta finished his 5th plate of food.

"Well," Gohan said, reaching behind him to grab his suit jacket from the back of his chair, "Thank you for the dinner Vegeta. Goten, I'll call you."

"Will you," Goten asked him as Gohan put on his coat. "I've been calling you for months and you never once called me back."

"Do you see why? Everytime I come here it's an argument over the same things." Gohan scooted the chair in and grabbed his briefcase.

"She's sick," Goten yelled. "What part of that don't you get!"

"Exactly, and what are you doing to fix it?"

Goten stood up, baffled by his brother's comment. "You think I'm not doing everything I can for her? What have you done, besides argue with her and make her upset?"

Gohan walked out of the dining area towards the front door; Goten followed. Vegeta didn't want to get involved, but Gohan was being intolerably selfish.

He could hear the two brothers argue in the living area. He stood in the hallway to hear better.

"I'm going through alot. Me and Videl are not in a good place right now. She moved out of the house. Pan hasn't spoken to me either, so I've just been focusing on my work."

"I get that Gohan, but mom needs you. She has always been there for us; be there for her!"

Gohan let out a deep breath, "I know. It's just...it's hard for me to see her like this."

"How do you think I feel? I see her get worse everyday. You're not the only one with a family; I have one too. My wife lost her mother unexpectedly 6 months ago, or did you forget that as well? She still has to work and come home to this. She cries every single night. Some days she can't get out of bed, feed or dress herself. You're not the only one hurting. It's not always about you Gohan."

Vegeta didn't realize how badly his daughter was suffering from Bulma's loss. She kept everything together, the company, the household and what was left of the family.

"I'm sorry Goten. I know I've been selfish. I'll come over this weekend, we can have a barbeque, train a little bit. It'll be like old times."

"I look forward to it."

Vegeta heard the door open and close. He dismissed himself before Goten could see him. He went to his bedroom and pulled out his phone. He dialed Trunks's number and waited for him to answer.

It went to voicemail like he expected. When prompted to leave a message, he couldn't muster the strength to do so. What would he say? That he was right to hate him. If he were there instead of training, he would have noticed Bulma was sick. He could have done something, gotten her help since she was too stubborn to do it herself.

He hung up the phone and sat there in the dark for a moment. He dialed another number, and listened as it rang.

'You've reached Bulma, sorry I can't answer right now. I'm probably in the lab or in the office. Leave a message.'

His throat closed up. The words escaped him, and he felt paralyzed. Nonetheless, he had to find the strength to do it. To tell her the words he was so afraid of using for so many years.

He could sense time running out on the answering machine. He called it everyday, hoping in some weird universe she would answer, but she never did.

It was time, "Bulma...I love you and I miss you every single day. I'm so sorry! Life's not worth…"

'Time expired. Press 1 to send, 2 to cancel.'

He pressed 1. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to repeat himself.

He set down his phone and relaxed on the bed. He hoped somehow she could hear him, and maybe someway she could forgive him.