Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

AN- I've never seen GT so things might not match with that

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation


Year= 820 AD

After Bulma died, Vegeta aged at a tremendously fast rate. Everyone watched forlornly as the years slipped from his face, and his body began to look hollow, like it was pushing the life out of it. He didn't mind. There was nothing left to do. He'd only lived for four things in his life: rivaling Kakarot, being a father, being a husband, and fighting. The legendary Goku had moved on long ago to a mysterious realm for the chosen best heroes. The family he had left could care for themselves. As for fighting, there were others to take over now- the younger generation.

It's time, he thought. He didn't know what awaited him on the other side but he hoped it had to do with his wife and possibly a good match with his rival. Not that he was expecting anything that good. The last time he'd died it'd been straight to hell. He'd murdered thousands of people. Nothing could make up for that.

So tired. He leaned his head back upon the pillow and shut his eyes. Pictures of his life passed upon the blackened screens of his lids. His lips twitched. There were no regrets. Yes, he made mistakes, but when he compared it to where he ended up, damn was life a blast. He'd shaken the planet up quite a bit in his days.

He was brought out of his reverie by a tiny body slipping onto the bed. "Grandpa."

Oh, Vegeta Jr. His eyes fluttered to see his bright-eyed great-grand-son, who looked a lot like himself (hence the name at birth). Vegeta reached over and patted the kid's head weakly. "Boy, does your mother know you are in here?"

The five-year old shrugged.

"You look sleepy, grandpa."

"I'm very sleepy."

"Oh." There was a long pause. "Then you probably aren't going to tell me a story."

Vegeta licked his dry lips and contemplated. "I've told you all of them. You remember them, right? Why don't you tell your own story?"

The child did a butt-hop that was a little rough for a man on his death-bed. The kid had Saiyan spunk. A sense of pride ran through the old man. Vegeta Jr. never would have been shipped off to another planet for being weaker than the rest.

"I sure do! I remember them all. I know all about the dragon balls and the dragon, and Nam-ick, and Ma-gin Buu, and Super Say-ins, and . . . and. . . "

Vegeta nodded. "Good, boy. Don't forget."

"I'll never forget," his great-grandson vowed.

"It's up to you now to make stories. To become a Super Saiyan and save the world. Your father been training you right?"

Vegeta Jr. stood up on the mattress. He positioned his hands together and aimed for the vanity-mirror. "I can break stuff, wanna see?"

The proper thing would have been to say no, but why not go out with a little mischief? "Show me, boy."

A yellow ki blast shot forth and shattered the mirror. Vegeta Jr. smiled with pride and Vegeta smirked. Any second now the kid's mother was bound to storm in and discover the mess. The blast made quite a sound. For some reason no one came. Maybe the woman had stepped out to speak with the neighbor.

"I'm proud of you, boy. Soon you'll be glowing gold in no time."

"And using the dragon balls!"

"Sure," Vegeta humored.

"I'm gonna wish for everyone to have enough toys. There's a boy in my kindergarten class who doesn't have enough toys."

"Great, we've got ourselves another St. Nicholas," Vegeta whispered under his breath.


"Nothing, boy, I didn't say a thing."

"What would you wish for, Grandpa?"

His eyes felt really heavy. They began to droop. He had such little ki left, and he knew that the next time he closed his eyes, it'd most likely be his last. The boy tugged on his sleeve.


"Me. . . I've had my trouble with those blasted balls, they're yours."

Leave me alone, Vegeta thought. He just wanted to rest now. Wouldn't the kid go away?

Vegeta Jr. tugged again. "Come on, Grandpa, what would you wish for?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm gonna get those balls and make a wish. But I wanna know what a good wish is. So tell me."

Vegeta closed his eyes.


Shut the kid up, someone. I wanna sleep. I wanna . . . die in peace.

"What would you wish for, Grandpa?"

Okay, he wasn't going to get to die without answering the annoying brat's question. What was a good wish? What did he have left to wish for, besides having the kid shut up and leave him alone now?

To beat Kakarot in the Otherworld? Hmmm. . . Not bad. He opened his mouth to speak but the words that came out weren't the ones he prepared.

"I'd wish that when I wake up I'd be beside your great-great-grandmother."

"Oh! But Grandma is dead."

I know.

So tired . . . There were sounds in the distance. Someone took Vegeta Jr away. There were some mutterings. Some remarks about how sad it was that he probably wouldn't wake up this time. Something about the dragon balls turning up missing. The last one may have caused him to stir if he wasn't so tired. So tired . . .

It's time to sleep, he thought. And, somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped that wish would come true. That when he woke up he'd be beside Bulma, his wife, again.

AN- I don't know what I think about this chapter. I hope Vegeta wasn't too out of character. I mean, he has lived for a long time and isn't the mean guy he once was, especially to his small great-grandson. I almost didn't make a prologue but I knew I had to give some sort of hintful reason why he wakes up in the past (if you haven't figured it out yet, Vegeta Jr. stole the dragon balls and is going to make a wish for his grandpa).