Disclaimer:

I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Dragonball Z or any of their owners in anyway. I have written this story strictly for entertainment purposes only, and I do not gain any form of profit from my work. I am simply a HUGE fan with a very different imagination that is just begging to be expressed. Nothing more. Thank you!

Summary:

"Savior" is set in the Future Timeline during the Androids' reign of terror. The post-apocalyptic time is tough and it is hard for Bulma to overcome the severe loneliness due to the many losses of her loved ones, especially Vegeta. She is on the verge of a mental breakdown until she finds solace in Trunks's handsome mentor, Gohan. Though the training regimens are supposed to remain secret, Bulma and Gohan develop a steamy secret of their own.

Rated M - Explicit Sexual Scenes, strong language, major character deaths and some gore (last two are depicted in original anime).

Author's Notes:
Please read before continuing.

-This story is very heavy with lemon/explicit sex scenes. The coupling is Gohan and Bulma, so if you are not comfortable with this type of work, PLEASE DO NOT READ. This is not the story for you. You have been warned.
-In regards to this story - this mostly fits with the story line of "History of Trunks". I made a couple of small tweaks to the plot to make room for a possible sequel that I am only THINKING about. I do not know yet it if will occur, though, as I am not too crazy about the idea. I do know that "Savior" is only 4 chapters long.
This story is darker in comparison to what I originally write, and it can be a tear-jerker to some readers.
-If this all sounds like your cup of tea, read on! Reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you all so much for reading!

CHAPTER ONE

Why had she subjected herself to such hurt and pain all over again?

Bulma Briefs was such an old woman in comparison to the only hope that their world had. The scenes in which they had all witnessed were much more traumatic than any apocalyptic movie could ever depict. Women, men, children, animals, all living things falling victim one by one to those bastard Androids whose only motives were to destroy and dominate. Once this was accomplished, what then? The horrifying possibilities continued to leave her trembling thirteen years later.

Her life was falling apart as she knew it; the only question was just how long she could hold her strong front before she faced an emotional collapse. The years have grown long and torturous with each day that the sun would continue to rise, for it was an addition that separated her further from the last time she received such affection; she had never believed that she would miss the animalistic ways of Vegeta's 'love-making', though he had always ensured that she would never leave their bed with a trace of energy. Despite their frequent, yet vicious 'mating rituals' as he had called them, there was no hope of moving past his untimely death. She could not have done so even in her strongest attempt to carry on; Bulma had missed Vegeta horribly, and this grief had only left her open and vulnerable.

She was very much aware of the emotions that tested each and every part of what little sanity she had left. The pain would only continue to degenerate her being, as she was lonely in every aspect; the only other survivors left in West City were her darling son, Trunks, and Goku's eldest son, Gohan; she had gasped when his face had entered her mind. She was ashamed to think of him in such ways that she had. Perhaps it was the fact that there was no other living man within a one hundred mile radius from (what was left of) the Capsule Corporation. Or maybe he had reminded her of Vegeta due to his strong will to defeat the Androids... something she deeply admired and craved.

Bulma scoffed at her thoughts as she had finished sweeping the kitchen's tiled floor; what did it matter? Who would stop her from feeling the way she did? She had nothing to lose anymore. "Trunks," she had called out to the boy who was simply staring at the beautiful Oceanside through the window. "I need a favor, sweetie."

"Yes, mother?"

"Do you think you can try to find a grocery store and scout for some supplies for me?" She lifted a small piece of paper with a list of needed items.

"Why?" He had raised an eyebrow.

"A half-saiyan teenager is much faster than my car," she urged her lips to press into the strongest smile that she could muster. "It's only for a few things."

"Sure… I guess," he shrugged. The clueless expression he had given reminded her so much of Vegeta, which only proved the adoration of her son to be difficult. She could not look at the similarities, as she did not need another reason for her inevitable breakdown. Her son had walked to her and had retrieved the list that Bulma had handed in his direction. "Mother, are you feeling all right?"

"What do you mean?" She continued to wear the fake smile.

"You're acting off today…" it was clear that her son was worried about her.

"Oh, Trunks, I'm fine." She weakly shook her head and brushed off his concern. "Hurry back; try to return before dark."

"All right. I will be right back!"

And he was gone; she could not believe that he actually did what he was told. Knowing that she could not hold her emotions in for any longer, her body had slid to the freshly-cleaned floor beneath her and she began to sob. She held her knees close to her face to quiet her uncontrollable cries.

Bulma Briefs would have given anything just to have one more day with all of her friends and family; she envied her previous life, where money had not mattered and she was not forced into an existence of fear and heart-stopping terror. Her parents, bless their souls; her mother had died shortly after Goku succumbed to his heart virus and her father had passed away just recently. This had forced her to be the crutch when Trunks would become weak; who would be there when she needed comfort? Her friends, colleagues, fellow superiors, all were wiped away without any effort on the Androids' parts. The world was on the brink of extinction; she was to die as a lonely woman. Whether her fate would involve natural causes like her parents or at the hands of these monsters, this was still up for debate.

For so long she had held herself together for the sake of her only child, but she could not do so any longer. With her fame and riches, she wished to give him the world and everything in it. Instead, his upbringing solely depended on survival. Their future should not have been this way. There was no greater pain than knowing that Trunks had no memory of his father, even if Vegeta was proud and arrogant to the point where nobody wished to be around him. All he could possess of him was memories from others.

She had continued to lie on the floor for the better part of an hour. She was surprised that she remained as strong as she did for as long as she did. Oh, sweet Kami. The tears had never stopped and she did not want them to; it was her expectation to release all that she had felt until she was able to pull herself together and be the strong woman that she once was.

"Oh, shit. Bulma!?"

For just the tiniest part of a second, every muscle in her body had encased in ice at the sound of his voice. Before Gohan was kneeling beside her, she had sat up and made a desperate attempt to wipe all of the wetness from her eyes away. A normal appearance was futile. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"You're crying."

She dared not look into his features. "Gohan, you have enough on your shoulders; you do not need to see me like this." Bulma was then enveloped in his strong scent, for he had wrapped his arms tightly around her. She could not bring herself to fight against his hold, as she knew that she would not win. Instead, she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes as she allowed herself to melt against his body. The sound of his strong heartbeat had comforted her to a large degree; she had not been held like this in over a decade.

"Are you hurt?" His soothing voice had vibrated from his chest and against her ear. He was such a beautiful person inside and out just like his father. This would be the first and likely last time that she would be able to feel his hold onto her body.

"No," Bulma shook her head.

"Good…" After he stood, he pulled her to his level with ease. He had taken her into another hug and rested his chin against her hairline. His hands, hardened and callused, had embraced the small of her back in such a comforting manner. Sweet Gods, his touch was so addicting. "Everything is going to be all right…"

"I hope so…" she trailed off as she felt a couple of his fingers creep just beneath her shoulders.

"Bulma, of course it will!" He cupped her chin for his eyes to meet hers. "I'm going to destroy the fuckers who did this to our world. You'll see."

"I never had the first doubt." She was not lying; it was simply difficult coping with all of these losses with no end in sight. When he revealed a confident smile, her gaze had fixed onto his lips. "I'm sorry… I just started thinking for a moment."

"Be strong." His tone had returned to a soft velvet state, as he was aware of where her gaze had lied. One fact was certain for Gohan; Bulma had never lost the first thread of her beauty as she aged. "Change is coming. Trust me."

She released a shaking breath. "I trust you." It was then that she realized Gohan had never let go of her; neither did her gaze break away from his lips. "This is a lot to deal with, even after thirteen years."

"We all get weak at times, Bulma. It's a part of humanity," his voice had lowered to a murmur. She was not sure if she was hallucinating or if Gohan's lips were slowly inching toward her face. Why did he have to be so beautiful? "As long as I'm here, you will always be safe."

"You and Trunks are all I have left." The vision of his perfect lips had blurred, for tears had welled in her eyes. "Please don't leave me."

"Never…" His lips had brushed lightly against hers. Though it was only for a moment, she was overwhelmed with the beautiful feeling that she had been deprived from for so long. Holy shit. When she gasped at the kiss, Gohan's face had immediately parted from hers. "I'm so sorry. I was not thi—" She placed her hand on tzhe back of his head and closed the gap between them once more. Gohan could not have been any more surprised at her move, for he had stumbled backwards at Bulma's impact; he had absorbed the imminent stumble backwards by landing against the large refrigerator behind him. He had taken this woman into his arms and had devoured her in powerful, hungry embraces.

Without any warning, he gripped and clawed each and every article of her clothing without any grace, as he was desperate to explore these forbidden boundaries so much more. His clothing, too, was quickly taken from him by her long, curious fingers; his arousal had risen to newer heights as she, too, repeatedly pressed her lips amongst random spots of his throat and jaw line. Normally, he would have never done this with a woman whose role was similar to his mother, though it was not helping the newly-risen situation that she was his first crush when he was a boy. So much need for her had tortured him in the worst of ways, especially as of late; it was time to bring his underlying fantasies to life. It was then that Gohan grasped onto her hips to support her body and he carried her to her bedroom.

He had wasted no time with foreplay. It was underneath her large, pale blanket atop her soft, plush bed where he had claimed her as his own. Bulma would eventually wish to receive dominance in the wake of their new affair, though Gohan would enjoy her on his terms for the time being; to her benefit, his enjoyment was her pleasure.

The encounter had been painful for her initially, yet she soon she was one with the waves of the many emotions of their lovemaking. Her weight was on her stomach and he had rocked against her velvet skin atop her. His breathy moans met her ear as he thrusted every inch of him inside of her at such a slow, passionate pace. Her nails had clawed at her bed while her bite on her large pillow had suffocated her ecstasy. "Come on," he encouraged the release of her building madness. She had squirmed beneath him and begged in frustration for his pace to quicken, yet his only reply was a tender kiss to the nape of her neck. The quiet sound of her nails scratching at the material beneath him had only proven that he was close to what he was wishing for. He was holding back for a purpose, and it was for her to know that he would be the last man to consume her with such pleasure and euphoria, no matter the end result of their world.

"Gohan…" She trembled beneath him and he smiled; she was almost there. He gripped her long, messy hair and gently tugged it to the side to nibble on the lobe of her ear; his other hand had found a ripe, hardened mound of her breast and he tweaked the skin aggressively. "Gohan!" she forced her tired body to buck wildly against his length as her peak had finally been reached. The man atop her had smiled in victory just as he had finally fulfilled her wish to quicken the pace. He had finally allowed himself to lose control and drown in his own bliss of her beautiful body; her loud, suffocated cries of approval, the prolonging of her climax, had been the thread that ultimately broke in the effort to reach his end. As his hands and fingers had laced with hers tightly, his pace was quick and powerful. Bulma's throat uttered equally quick cries at this, and he, too, was lost with her; his lungs inhaled with a quick gasp for he had erupted deep inside of her. Though he was quiet of this occurrence, his breath was trembled with the remainder of his body. Oh, thank Kami.

He lifted his weight to his shaking thighs for the only purpose of turning Bulma's barely conscious body to face him. He had collapsed, with his large, bulky shoulders shielding hers, as his teeth had bitten her lower lip before he continued to embrace the lining of her jaw. "You should rest," he whispered.

"I can't; Trunks will be home soon," Bulma breathed.

"Don't worry. I will keep him busy."

She did not attempt to argue; Gohan could maintain a much stronger front than she after such an encounter. They shared a long embrace of their lips before Gohan had released her from his hold. He had left the bed and retrieved his clothes with ease; Bulma had watched his naked body soon become draped with the same material that she so eagerly removed. Each of his muscles were enhanced with much more detail than the average man; such detail that she could easily indulge in again. Her lids had grown heavy, with sleep coming for her, and her last vision was of his softened stare in her direction.

His timing was perfect, for when he had left her behind, Trunks had appeared through the front door. "Mom? I'm home!"

"She's asleep," Gohan's tone was as soft as his features.

"Gohan! I'm glad to see you!" He had placed a small bag of supplies onto the island countertop and flashed a smile.

"Likewise," He looked in the direction of Bulma's bedroom before he had turned to the young teenage boy in front of him. "Are you ready to train?"

"Am I ever!"

"Come on," Gohan placed him in a headlock and rubbed his free fist into his hair line. "We have a lot to cover." And the two had left the Capsule Corporation.

What can we do to be together?
Is there any chance?
Do we have to die for love or do we love to die?
Will there be a better life in the land so far away?
Is there a place for you and me?
Will we feel our love again?
-Blutengel, "Any Chance"