Vegeta had become so accustomed to his time on Earth, that he immediately went for the telephone out of habit. He cursed himself, holding the now limp and nearly unconscious Bulma in his arms, at his panicked stupidity. What was he thinking? There was only one thing he could do in the situation; he had to go to Strifelon. He was the only one who would and could help them. He had obviously left the ship after they had gone in search of the Plants fate. Now, he was probably back at home.

Why had he walked to find the Pystirm, anyway? In his complete state of rage he had become entirely irrational. It was as though he had lost all sane thought, and had only focused on his anger. He supposed Bulma had done the same, since she had not brought up the idea of taking the ship. He couldn’t blame her, though. How could somebody think rationally when they thought they were about to die?

Vegeta gazed down at Bulma. Her condition was worsening by the minuet. The loss of the Pystrim had shocked her enough to jump-start her body into another emotional and physical state of trauma. She always seemed to pick the best times. He walked down the hall toward his bedroom, Spider padding along beside him, trying to slow the hammering of his heart. Upon entering his bedroom he switched on the bedside lamp, put a blanket over her, and placed a slightly damp washcloth over her forehead. She moaned slightly and began to twitch, making Vegeta wonder if any Forae were an issue. He gently pulled back the blanket and lifted her shirt, peering over her skin for any signs of the horrible black dots. Thankfully there were none, but he could tell that if he didn’t get help soon they could definitely appear. He stared down at her form for a moment before leaning down to kiss her navel with a surprising gentleness. He savored the feeling of her flesh and then rose, looking down to Spider.

"You take care of her, now." He said firmly. "Don’t let anything happen to her while I’m gone." Spider whined in response. He jumped up on the bed and curled up beside Bulma’s shivering form, adding his warmth to her. Vegeta smirked at him.

"Good job, dumbass." He ruffled the Roctorn’s shaggy ears and then quickly exited the room.

* * *

Vegeta didn’t like the idea of leaving Bulma alone, but he had no other choice. The air outside had turned bitterly cold, and the short trek to Strifelon’s would have been far too difficult on them both. The mud was so thin now, that Vegeta was practically swimming as he approached the darkened hole in the ground that signaled the Storkrin’s odd house. He bent, lifted the heavy latch, and slipped inside before any of the mud could slip in after him. He stood for a moment on the stone steps. Bathed in complete darkness, he listened distantly to the howl of the wind as it slipped through the cracks above, and then he headed down.

* * *

Bulma awoke to a giant pink tongue lapping at her face. She jumped and pulled away before realizing who was applying the ministrations. She managed a tiny smile.

"Hey, Spider." The Roctorn whined happily in response. She tried to sit up but a rush of blood to her head prevented her from doing so. She flopped back down, feeling the swirling dizziness that swelled hotly inside her head. Her face felt as though it were on fire. She pushed the blanket off her body with one weak gesture and looked around. She was in Vegeta’s room, but where was Vegeta? A tiny lamp beside the bed was all that remained of his passing. The door stood slightly ajar, and in its frame where the other nine Roctorn’s, all looking expectantly at her.

"VEGETA?" she called loudly. No answer.

"Where’d he go?" she rolled over and looked at Spider, who whined some more and lashed his tails around. Knowing she wouldn’t get an answer, Bulma sighed and rolled back over onto her side. She then noticed two gigantic blue eyes staring up at her over the rim of the bed. She smiled, and extended her hand with some difficulty. "C ’mere, you." Ghost was lifted onto the bed with a happy chirp, and instantly settled into her comfortably.

The next ten minuets were spent with thoughts of Vegeta and her death.

* * *

Strifelon bolted as quickly as a Storkrin of his age could out of his chair when he saw the Prince approaching. He ran up to the wet, dripping and muddied Sayajin and extended his hands, palms up, imploringly.

"What of the Plant, Prince?" he hissed, eyes thick with worry.

Until now, Vegeta had been able to contain his rage. All through the discovery at the Boulders, he had buried it deep. All the way back, with the fragile woman in his arms, he had held it in check. Now, away from her emotionally unhinged presence, he thrust a steel hand out and grabbed Strifelon around the neck, slamming him against the wall of the room with deadly force. He bent his face close, his chest heaving with unrestrained fury.

"Listen to me, old man. We are both thankful for your help, and I like you, so killing you isn’t exactly on my ‘to do’ list. But here me now…Bulma is dying. There is NO plant. If you don’t whip up some fantastic little concoction to save her life, I swear on my honor as a warrior, I will have your head on a silver platter."

Strifelon stared back down at the much smaller man and as calmly as he could; he slowly raised a hand and gently pulled the iron grip away from his neck. Vegeta reluctantly obliged, but made no move to back away. He stayed directly in front of Strifelon and continued to stare him down.

Strifelon rubbed at his painful neck muscles. "I sssee your threat meansss well." he said gratingly. "But hear me. I know of what you feel for the earthling female. It isss there in your eyesss every time you look at her. Ssso I underssstand your anger. I would, Prince, conjure up a magic to sssave her life." He drew a breath. "Yet I cannot. I can, however, conjure up a great many potionsss that may keep the sssymptomsss at bay…" he paused. "For a time."

Vegeta did not even blink, but spoke in a deep, calm voice laced with intentional command. "How long a time." He growled.

Strifelon sighed. "The human body isss not adept at holding the sssymptomsss at bay." He explained. "I have learned thisss from ssstudying Bulma from a dissstance. Ssshe growsss weak. A Ssstorkrin body can hold Fortricresss off for asss long asss two yearsss. Yet, Bulma isss nearing her time."

"How long!" Vegeta snarled. Strifelon held his clawed hands up in front of himself. "Lisssten to me, Prince."

Vegeta crossed his arms and scowled deeply.

"Like I ssaid, ssshe nearsss her end. There are potionsss, however, that can keep her alive…alive until…"

"Until what? Stop stalling!"

"The Plant will grow again." Strifelon hissed, holding up a finger wisely. "Thisss I know. It will grow within an Earth monthsss time. There are no other Psytrim’sss that will grow. She mussst wait."

"A month." Vegeta repeated. "Does she even have that long!?"

"Not without the aid of my potionsss, ssshe doesss not!" Strifelon threw up his arms in his typical fashion. "But I have many! Ah, thousssandsss! I will come to her, make her drink them, and ssshe may very well live until the 30 daysss are passst!"

"If you are lying to me, old man…"

Strifelon tapped his chest with one long claw and smiled. "I have a heart, and you do asss well, Prince. Do not deny yourssself that privilege."

Vegeta turned from the room and raced back to the ship.

* * *

As an automatic reaction to his earlier given command to protect the human female, Spider rose up on his hind legs and growled furiously at the form opening the door. When he saw that it was his beloved master, however, he whimpered and shuffled forward on his belly in a submissive gesture.

"Good boy." Vegeta said absently as he walked past the Roctorn and approached Bulma. He leaned down and shook her gently awake.

"Hmm?" she blinked sleepily at him.

"Hey."

"Where were you…?" she breathed.

"Never mind. Can you stand ok?"

She looked confused. "I…well…sure." She tried to sit up, but a particularly violent wave of nausea rocked through her body and she flopped backward. "I’m sorry…" her bottom lip began quivering. "I don’t feel…" she trailed off as Vegeta slipped his arms carefully under her and drew her against him.

"That’s fine. I just went to see Strifelon. He has some liquids you’ll need to drink."

"What about the Plant…?"

"That’s what the potions are for." Vegeta tried to smile. "They’re going to fight off the symptoms."

"Vegeta…am I going to…survive?"

He sat down on the bed, not even knowing why he held her, but knowing somehow that he was doing it because he felt he needed to. It was like her last moments with him…or were they? Would these stupid potions work?

"Look…Strifelon said he can make some salves and healing potions that can ward off enough of the symptoms to keep your…" he paused, struggling to say it, "…death….at bay. The Psyrtrim will return in 30 days."

"Another month?" Bulma cried weakly.

"The point is, it may be enough time to keep you…alive."

"It may be?" she whispered.

He nodded. "We don’t know. Strifelon will be here shortly. He said there are no other plants that grow around here. The boulders are the only place where the Pystrim grows." He paused. "How do you feel?"

"Numb." Bulma replied shakily. "My legs feel weird…"

Vegeta was just about to see for himself when Spider growled and jumped off the bed. The Sayajin and the Human both whirled their heads around to stare at the dark form standing in the doorway. It was Strifelon, holding a small bag in his left hand. He looked like some strange, dark Doctor come on a house call.

"Good. You’re here." Vegeta motioned him inside, where he instantly knelt by the bedside. He looked over Bulma with his warm red eyes and nodded his face a grimace. "Not good. None of it!"

"What…do you mean…?" Bulma asked, trying to raise her head. The effort was tremendous.

"Your body will need many of thessse." Strifelon said. He propped the bag up on the bed and began to rummage through its contents. He pulled out many small vials, handing most to Vegeta, who opened up the drawer in the nightstand and tucked them neatly inside. He watched Stifelon pull the rest out with a fierce intensity.

Strifelon produced a small, oval shaped vial containing a dark blue liquid. He popped open the top and held the vial out to Bulma. Vegeta put one arm behind her and gently lifted her so that she was propped up enough to swallow.

"The liquid doesss not tassste well, earthling female." Stifelon hissed. "But it will eassse your painsss."

He was right about it tasting awful. Bulma had to fight to keep the hot, searing liquid down once it filled her mouth. Once she swallowed she doubled over in a savage coughing fit where she nearly coughed the liquid back up, but managed to hold it down. She took a deep, trembling breath and leaned back down, her chest shaking.

"Are you all right?" Vegeta asked, his face a deep frown.

She nodded. "You’re right." Bulma said with a small smile. "It tastes like shit."

Strifelon’s muzzle split into his lopsided grin. "Then you know it worksss, earthling female." He popped the lid back on and sat it down on the nightstand beside the bed, where Vegeta tucked it back into the drawer. "Drink it twice more tonight, each time the pain arisssesss." He said, "No more than twice. Tomorrow, visssit me. I ssshall have othersss." He rose from the bed, giving Bulma a fleeting look, before he turned to leave the room.

"Wait!" Vegeta yelled after him. Strifelon turned. "Yesss?"

"Will she…?"

Strifelon just stared at him for a long moment. "It isss hard to tell at thisss point, Prince. We ssshall sssee."

And then he was gone.