Chapter 45

He had gone back to his room hours later, climbing into bed once he made certain no trace of her presence there remained. He let his head fall against the pillow with a sigh, letting his thoughts wander until he was sleeping at last.

“No!” he screamed, the feel of iron-like grips on his wrists and ankles. His tail lashed out beneath him as he pulled at the large soldiers carrying him down the hallway. “Nappa!” his voice rang out against the metallic walls.

“Shut up, brat,” a soldier hissed. “If you make too much noise we have the clearance to beat you senseless. Lord Freeza has requested your presence.”

Vegeta snarled and twisted in the grasps of the large men. “No! He can’t have me! Nappa!” he screeched again, his wrists starting to ache.

“Shut up,” the soldier said again.

“Aw, he’s just a little boy,” another soldier said, looking down at Vegeta, his slitted eyes softening. “I don’t think Lord Freeza should do things like this to kids.”

“You could be killed just for thinking that,” a third soldier cautioned.

“But they even shipped his guardian off somewhere! Even Zarbon is on assignment, just so no one witnesses this!” the second soldier argued.

The first soldier scowled and turned, immediately blasting the protesting soldier into oblivion. “Anyone else have a problem?” he snarled.

The remaining two soldiers shook their heads, one moving in between the little Prince’s legs and taking both his ankles. “Let me go!” Vegeta howled, kicking violently and managing to land a blow on the soldier at his feet. The soldier grunted and staggered to the side, and Vegeta quickly brought his legs up, striking out at the guards at his wrists. The soldiers fell to the sides and he took off as quickly as he could, quickly dispatching all three soldiers with his ki. His little booted feet thundered down the hallway, his breath loud in his ears as the blood rushed through his head. He rounded a corner and bounced off of something, landing with a grunt on his rear. Staring up he saw that he had rammed into a pair of purple legs.

“Oh, what do we have here?” Captain Ginyu asked with a smile.

“Let me pass,” Vegeta commanded.

“What for, small fry?” the Captain returned.

“I am Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans,” Vegeta snapped imperiously, desperately wanting to flee. He would find Nappa. Nappa had always protected him. “That should be reason enough.”

“Well, that doesn’t fly here. Now, you wouldn’t be trying to escape, would you?” Ginyu growled, scowling. “You’re supposed to go to Freeza’s lab.”

“I won’t go. I will NOT go!” Vegeta shouted, making a break for it.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ginyu chortled maliciously, reaching out and grabbing the little boy around the waist. “Freeza’s going to fit you and train you over the next several years, and how do you expect him to be able to do that if you don’t go to the lab?”

“I’ll never let myself be trained by him!” Vegeta screamed, twisting to try and get away from the large purple alien.

“Well, you don’t have much choice, especially since you wouldn’t just follow orders as a matter of personal choice. Don’t make it any harder on yourself than it has to be, okay?” Ginyu said, poking Vegeta’s young cheek with a black-nailed finger.

Vegeta growled and bit Ginyu on the hand viciously. Ginyu hissed in pain and grabbed Vegeta’s tail, squeezing as hard as he could. Vegeta let loose a bloodcurdling screech and began to cry, the pain branching throughout his entire body and leaving him shaking with agony as his cries ripped his lungs out.

“Be good now, okay?” Ginyu said, and carried the sobbing young Prince down the hall.

“No,” Vegeta whispered as they laid him out on the table, clamping his naked arms and legs down. Even his tail had its metal restraint.

“This is for your own benefit,” Freeza’s cold voice slithered through the air. “You will be the best pet ever.

“No,” Vegeta repeated, starting to shiver in the cold of the room.

“Begin,” Freeza snarled, and technicians suddenly swarmed around the little boy, poking and prodding. Vegeta screamed in utter agony as several scalpels sliced through his flesh, and he watched with horror through his haze of pain as they inserted something thin and flat into the incision behind his collarbone. He had the impression that whatever it was was sinking into his flesh, burying itself beyond retrieval, working its way into his very matter. It hurt worse than anything before, and he screamed his pain, screamed his frustration, screamed his helplessness...

---

Zarbon awoke with the feeling that something was wrong. Leaping out of bed, he ran into the hall and stopped, hearing a screeching noise. Something was definitely wrong. He darted back into the room, pulled on a pair of boxers, and sprinted back down the hall. It was as he’d feared- the sound was coming from Vegeta’s room. It was the Prince’s voice, strained and raw and howling as if his very soul was being torn from him. “Vegeta!” Zarbon cried, trying the door and finding it locked. He cursed and pounded on it, but got no response.

“What is it?” he heard someone shout from down the hall, and he glanced over to see Bulma running down the hall, clutching her robe to her as she moved.

“Vegeta,” was all Zarbon said, then punched in the door. He and Bulma spilled through the opening to encounter Vegeta, hands pressed to the sides of his head, curled in the fetal position and screaming as if his lungs would burst.

“Vegeta!” Zarbon and Bulma cried in unison, and Vegeta’s eyes snapped open, but they saw with horror that he did not see them. His eyes were seeing something they couldn’t. Suddenly Bulma dropped to the floor, holding her head and screaming.

“They’re hurting him!” she shouted, her eyes filling with tears as she squeezed them shut.

Zarbon looked at her in horror and started towards Vegeta, grabbing his arm roughly. Immediately he was bombarded with broken images- surgical-masked faces standing over him and flashes of horrible, intense pain...Zarbon fell to the floor as well, gasping and wincing as he fought the agony, wondering where this was coming from.

“Vegeta!” he dimly heard another voice cry, but he was unable to focus his eyes through the pain to see who it was. There was the faint pounding of footsteps and the sound of a slap, and then the pain was gone, only a nebulous, fleeting echo.

“What was that?” Bulma whispered, wincing as she put a hand to her head.

Zarbon rubbed his temples and picked himself off the floor, seeing Vegeta sitting on the bed, rubbing his cheek. Bulma’s parents stood in the room, her father hovering at the door and her mother standing by the bedside, hands on her hips. “What happened?” Zarbon asked numbly.

Mrs. Briefs shook her head. “We heard the shouting from the other side of the building,” she said sadly. “Then we heard the door get smashed and we dashed over here right away.”

“You two were lying on the floor, screaming right along with him as if your heads had been split open,” Dr. Briefs added. “Then my wife walked over and slapped Vegeta silly so he would wake up.”

Vegeta blinked, looking around and rubbing his face but eyes completely blank and uncomprehending.

Bulma cleared her throat. “I think we need to go,” she said, ushering her parents out of the room.

Zarbon nodded gratefully. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“I’m coming right back,” she hissed, and he knew arguing with her would be just as fruitless as arguing with Vegeta.

“Vegeta?” he asked hesitantly as Bulma herded her parents out of the room. There was no response from the Saiyan. Vegeta continued to just sit there and direct his empty stare straight ahead. Zarbon scowled and waved a hand in front of the younger man’s face, but again there was no reaction on Vegeta’s part. “This is bad,” he murmured to himself just as Bulma reentered the room.

“How is he?” she asked, kneeling next to Zarbon and searching Vegeta’s face.

“Utterly unresponsive,” he replied, disheartened.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I haven’t the faintest. He’s had nightmares before, he had them all while growing up, but this is the worst one yet. Never has he affected anyone else with them. I wonder why his psychic barriers are so weak?” Zarbon replied, taking Vegeta’s jaw in his hand and turning the Saiyan’s head from side to side.

“He looks okay,” Bulma muttered. She touched his face once Zarbon had dropped his hand, raising herself to sit on the bed next to him. “Vegeta,” she said softly, running her fingers over his cheek. “Vegeta, wake up. Come back to us.”

Zarbon shook his head and sighed. “That won’t work. Not unless you have some sort of rare telepathic ability or you’re really, really close to his heart. I think I’ve seen this condition before, although under completely different circumstances, like comas, and the only ones who have been able to reach the Saiyans are their bonded mates...” he said trailing off, watching Bulma continue to whisper in Vegeta’s ear and stroke his cheek. She even leaned in and kissed his face lightly.

“Vegeta,” she whispered. “Time to wake up. You’re safe here with us.” With that she ran her fingers across his lips, and suddenly his hand came up and pressed her fingers to his mouth roughly, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

Zarbon stared at them, shocked. He wondered...but Vegeta would never give him a straight answer if he asked, so he would just have to wait and see if the Prince dropped any hints. “Vegeta, are you all right?” Zarbon asked, reaching up and pulling up the Saiyan’s eyelid.

Vegeta batted the hand away with a snarl. “I’m fine. Why in the hell are all you people in here?” he snapped, shoving Bulma away as well, although his cheeks turned pink as he did so.

“You were having a nightmare, and when we came in to check on you we were bombarded with it,” Zarbon explained, standing.

Vegeta blinked up at him, the black of his eyes absorbing the surrounding dim light. “What? You two shared in my dream? But that only happens when...” he said, abruptly shutting his mouth before he finished.

Zarbon raised his eyebrow. “I always knew you cared,” he said slyly, watching with amusement as Vegeta’s face contorted in spite. “Anyway, what was all that about? I remember you having nightmares frequently when you were a little boy. How long has this been going on?”

“A long time. It’s always the same dream,” Vegeta said roughly, looking down at his hands.

“What’s the dream about?” Bulma asked.

A shadow crossed Vegeta’s face. “It’s no one’s business,” he growled.

Bulma scowled. “Fine. See if I care,” she snapped. “You want to dream about gross aliens operating on you then that’s your prerogative.”

“How did you know that?” Vegeta barked, snatching her wrist as she stood to leave.

“We all saw your dream, dummy. Your stupid mental screaming dropped me like a fly the second I entered the room, and Zarbon fell down too right after touching you,” she said angrily, obviously running out of patience.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Zarbon asked quietly.

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Vegeta growled in reply.

Zarbon looked at him askance. “You need to come clean with me someday, Vegeta. You’re keeping a lot of secrets from me, and not just about this. If I don’t get them from you I’ll find another way, and I don’t think you’ll like it,” Zarbon said softly, tone slightly menacing.

“Are you trying to scare me?” Vegeta sneered.

“Certainly not, Vegeta. Your nightmare more than accomplished that,” he replied curtly. “At any rate, you need some decent rest. We have to rendezvous with the ship in just a few days.”

“Few days?” Bulma said, surprised. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to come for another week or something!”

Zarbon shrugged, fixing Vegeta with a level glance. “They made good time. Apparently the Kijarans have made some advances in space travel. I received the message from the ship’s captain shortly before I went to bed,” he said. “Why, isn’t everything in order?”

Bulma swallowed. “Well, yes, for the most part. We’re nearly finished with all the kajillions of items you ordered, and the encapsulation for the pods is going well, seemingly. Dad’s working on a version of the rejuvenation tanks that can be used in the field, and he wants to encapsulate those, too.”

“And this should all be done within the next few days, correct?” Zarbon asked.

“Of course,” Bulma said indignantly. “No one works faster than Capsule Corporation.”

“Quite,” Zarbon replied dryly. “Well, I’m off to bed,” he said, stretching. He shot Vegeta a meaningful look and sauntered out the door.

“What was that for?” Bulma asked, turning to look at Vegeta.

“I don’t know,” Vegeta lied, his cheeks turning pink again. He looked at her for a moment then glanced away in embarrassment.

Bulma sighed and sat back down on the bed beside Vegeta. “Listen, Vegeta. I’m really sorry about earlier. I guess I read you wrong, and I apologize both for making you uncomfortable and myself a fool.”

He didn’t answer her, just stared at her as a million things ran through his mind. “You know that Saiyans have telepathic abilities,” he stated.

“Uh, I do now,” she replied, her eyebrows lowering in her confusion.

“Did you also know that we cannot lie when using said abilities?” he asked coldly.

“No, I didn’t, but I guess it makes sense. If you were lying you’d know it, and since you’re transmitting your very thoughts, that knowledge of the lie probably would too,” she said, tilting her head and putting a finger to her cheek, thinking.

A small smile crossed his face, lingering for only a second. “Precisely.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked suddenly, fixing him with a curious blue stare.

“I just want you to remember it,” he replied roughly.

“Um, okay,” she said uncertainly, and stood once again. “You’re really strange.”

“And you’re a hypocrite,” he replied.

She smiled and scratched her head. “Guess so,” she said with a chuckle. “Oh well. Wouldn’t be interesting if there weren’t any strange people, I guess.”

“Of course not,” he said imperiously. “Now go to bed.”

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, face openly showing concern.

“Of course! What do you think I am, a toddler?” he snapped.

“You act like it,” she growled.

“If you don’t like it leave,” he said coldly.

She scowled. Well, he was acting like his old self once again, so he obviously was feeling better. His vulnerable moment had apparently passed. “I will,” she snarled back, and stormed out of the room.

---

The next few days seemed to crawl by, and he had effectively avoided contact with everyone. He had trained his hardest in the gravity room, taking his workouts outside whenever he sensed Zarbon approach. The only person who had managed to find him was that infernal Kakarott, who showed up suddenly one afternoon when he was training in a remote field. The other Saiyan had just dropped out of the sky and stood there, smiling and waving as Vegeta shot him looks of death. The tailless disgrace only wanted to know what Radditz’s orders were to be. “Tell him to show up at 5 a.m. the morning of departure,” Vegeta had ordered, and given the expected date. The other Saiyan had just nodded and taken off as unexpectedly as he had come. Vegeta had stood there motionless for a while, wondering how Kakarott had managed to escape his detection. The power level he had detected from him had been so low he shouldn’t even been able to fly, and yet there he had been. Interesting- the Earth-Saiyan must have been hiding his power level. Vegeta could certainly think of the benefits of such a trick, and it gave him something to do for the next few days.

He had finally had to return to Capsule Corp. in order to help Zarbon prepare for departure the following day. As he walked into the building he found it hard to believe that their time on Earth was over. Tomorrow they would leave, probably never to return. He would leave behind the lush green planet, that fool Kakarott and his halfling son, and the woman and her annoying family. Finally he would be among the stars again, embracing his destiny as the New Saiyan Empire’s sovereign. Then he would find and kill Freeza. His sense of normalcy, which left him when he arrived on Earth, finally returned to him.

He walked down the hall to his room, anticipating a screaming bout with Zarbon over his not packing earlier, but as he strolled the woman appeared in the hallway. He watched as her eyes widened when she saw him, then her features fell. He hoped that she wouldn’t speak to him, because he wasn’t sure how he would conceal the fact that he had thought about her every day and was seriously regretting running out on her that night that seemed so long ago. Unfortunately luck was not on his side, and she approached him, planting herself in his path so that he could not advance unless he physically moved her out of his way. “What do you want?” he snapped.

“Where have you been?” she said crossly, planting her hands on her hips.

“Why do you want to know, Earthling?” he growled back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because you’re leaving tomorrow and Dad wanted to know if you wanted him to send you with a gravity room,” she said angrily.

“Tell him yes,” Vegeta replied shortly.

“Tell him yourself,” she spat back. “I’m not going to do you any favors after not seeing you for how many days?”

“Fine. Get out of my way,” he returned, trying to step past her.

She moved into his path again, stubbornly blocking his passage. “No. You have to ask nicely,” she snarled. Suddenly he felt her, angry, hurt, and sad, and realized how much she had missed him.

“No,” he growled, shaking his head. No use- she was still in there, dammit! He had hoped that the separation would dispel whatever was going on between them, and an icy hand gripped his heart as he realized it hadn’t gone away. “I don’t have time for this,” he rumbled, and rose into the air, easily sailing over her head and out of her reach.

“Hey, not fair!” she shouted, scowling at him as he passed over.

“Woman, when have I ever been concerned about fairness?” he said with a snort, and sailed down the hall.

He had talked to Dr. Briefs and was now in his room, blocking out Zarbon’s tirade. “Aren’t you packing any Earth clothes?” Vegeta interrupted.

Zarbon blinked, startled into stopping. “What?”

“You love the Earth clothes. Aren’t you taking any with you?” Vegeta repeated.

“I hadn’t planned on it,” he said, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Vegeta said with a smirk. His distraction had worked like a charm.

“Where was I?” Zarbon asked angrily.

Vegeta shrugged. “Earth clothes?” he ventured.

“No!” Zarbon growled. “Dammit, you made me lose my train of thought,” he grumbled, pacing around the room. “Dammit. Anyway, do you think you’ll need help, because I need to get my own things in order.”

“I have never needed your assistance,” Vegeta said imperiously.

Zarbon chuckled. “Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” he said, amused.

Vegeta’s scowl deepened. “Shut up,” he growled.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “I suppose it’s too much to expect you to be civil after I haven’t seen you for a while. Say, how did things turn out with Bulma?”

“Nothing turned out with the woman,” Vegeta replied sharply.

Zarbon shrugged. “Just thought I’d ask. If you need help just holler, or in your case, stroll in and pretend nothing’s wrong until I figure out what it is you need help with, then we’ll both pretend nothing happened after I fix it.”

“Shut up and get out,” Vegeta snarled.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Sure, Zarbon!’,” Zarbon said with a laugh, and waved as he left the room.

Vegeta sighed as he looked out upon his belongings, most of which Zarbon had folded neatly on the bed in piles. He pulled out his crate of gadgets and looked at them, covered as they were in dust. She had never found them, never had the chance to tinker with them or make them better. What a waste. He hadn’t counted on the fact that she apparently respected him enough to stay out of his things. He sighed as he set the crate down. Why, even now she was thinking about him...his eyes grew blank and he was glad his hands were empty, because he would have dropped whatever he was holding as his hands went limp with shock. It was true. He had been trying to ignore it the entire time, but it was true. He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor with wide eyes. What was he going to do? If the stories were true, he wouldn’t be able to function once he left the planet. Why had this happened to him? Why was it his bad luck? Had he known on some level that it had been this way all along? Was that why he had actually fought Radditz? Why he had done any of this?

He stood again, letting his eyes run over the contents of the room. He knew what he had to do, and he would do it, but not this very minute. First he had to pack. First business, just like everything else in his life. Always business. He knew she understood exactly how that felt.

---

Night had fallen, and she was brushing her hair, getting ready for bed. They were leaving tomorrow, and the thought filled her with such sadness that it felt as if someone had replaced her stomach with a stone. She raised the brush, pulling it through her silky hair, and nearly pulled some strands out of her head as she heard a knock on the door. The sound was soft but assertive, and she wondered who on earth would be trying to get a hold of her at such an hour. She grumbled to herself and swung the door wide, gasping when she saw Vegeta standing there, hands behind his back and looking off to the side, cheeks a little flushed and his posture screaming embarrassment. “Vegeta!” she breathed. “Come in.”

He pushed past her into the room, immediately going over to the window and staring outside. Placing his hands on the sill, he locked his elbows and looked up at the sky, not moving. As she watched she realized he was so still he could have been a statue. “What can I do for you?” she asked gently, sitting back down at her dressing table, realizing she still had her brush in her hair.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” he said gruffly.

“I know that,” she said, a little irritated. “I tried to remind you of that earlier, remember? In the hallway, when you were so snotty to me?”

“We’ll never come back,” he continued.

She felt something catch inside her throat. “I’m aware of that as well. Jeez, do you think I’ve been asleep the last few days or something?”

“We’re going back to Arlia. It takes about two or three weeks to get there,” he said.

“Vegeta, what does this have to do with anything?” she asked with a sigh.

He looked down at the floor, still not facing her. “Would you ever think of going there?” he asked softly.

She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I suppose it would be interesting...”

Suddenly he left the window and was standing next to her. He dropped to his knees so that he was on eye level with her. “Come with me,” he said abruptly, staring into her eyes.

“What?” she gasped, putting a hand to her chest.

“Bulma, come with me,” he said again, his black eyes searching her face.

“I don’t understand,” she said, frowning.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. “Bulma, come to space with me. Be the Empress of the New Saiyan Empire.”

She stared at him in silence, her brain refusing to process what he had said. “Vegeta, I...are you asking me to marry you?” she stuttered, shocked.

Yes, he said directly into her mind, making her gasp.

She had refused Yamcha outright and Radditz indirectly. Why should she join herself to Vegeta, the least sociable one of the bunch? “I don’t know,” she said. “That’s an awfully long way. When would I see my family? I wouldn’t have any friends.”

“You would have me,” he said, his dark eyes still fastened to her face.

She sat for a little while in silence, considering. “I don’t know...” she said softly.

The skin around his eyes tightened, and she realized that was the same facial expression he showed when he got slapped. “I see,” he said, and stood abruptly. “Please disregard this little conversation, then. I was obviously mistaken,” he said coldly, and marched out of the room.

---

44 / Bulma’s Hideout / 46