Title: When Doves Cry - Prologue

Author: Falafal

Pairing: Gohan/Videl Bulma/Vegeta, Goten/OC (For now! ;o))

Rating: Pg-13

Warning: Violence, AU (Alternate-Universe)

Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of the Dragon Ball Z world, nor do I own 'When Doves Cry' (Prince) or quotes that pop up every chapter. But if you're willing to sell them for, let me see… half an Easter egg, one of those big ones that take at least an hour to eat, you can have that.

Summary: An AU set in a darker DBZ world the Saiyans are simple humans trying to make their way in the world. In a world of deceit, lust and crime, who knew one death could bring the makings of the deadliest crime war. This is my first try at a total Au fic, where 'Crimson Espy' is Au due to event changes in the story line, in this fic the official series didn't happen at all.

A/N: My muse kept bugging me to write this prologue and has been flooding my mind with endless chapter possibilities. So I had to get this on fanfiction.net. What do you think?

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"How can you just leave me standing?

Alone in a world that's' so cold?" Prince – 'When Doves Cry'

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Prologue

Only half focusing on the task before him, Master Roshi let the water dribble from the green hose in his hand. He watched with a bland face as the freshly made stream picked up the dry topsoil. His free hand cupped a budding rose, it's white petals peaking through the surrounding leaves. As a thorn pricked his skin he ignored the pain and wiped at the blood.

"I'm sorry my dears"

Taking a step along the short row of bushes, which lined the small front of his wooden panel house. The water continued to wash over the roots as he looked up into the orange sky,

"Orange sky at night shepherd's delight, orange sky in the morning sailor's warning"

He continued to study the sky as clouds washed over the setting sun, darkening the sky. The only light being the streaks of light, which escaped the clouds. When the birds chirping softly suddenly silenced the aged man commented,

"I don't think those feathers agree, do you?"

An inhuman grunt, which could be translated as an agreement made itself known from behind him. He twisted his head around to see a green tortoise staring up at him. Before he could turn back he saw the peeling yellow paint on the house walls,

"I should get those kids to paint that," he thought for a moment, "They never come around anymore. Krillin should bring that cute wife of his around for a visit."

The old man let out a small chuckle and his mind wandered, forgetting about the running water.

"Goku would have painted it, such a good heart that kid…" his brow furrowed, "…in a way."

He sighed and shook his head as a feeling of failure swept over him, his head dropped,

"His brother's too busy to paint my wall. Look at what he's doing!" he emphasised his words by throwing his right hand up in the air. This was met by the cry of teenage girls, which pulled the teacher from his daze. He immediately let his hand drop, the water soaking the lawn.

His face lit up, a smile stretching as his cheeks reddened,

"Hey, sorry girls" The old man let out a chuckle as he watched the two teens continue down the path, their hair damp. Before they disappeared behind a large oak the shorter, a brunette, waved and turned her head as she walked blindly,

"That's ok Mr. Roshi. We needed…"

But her words were drowned out by the sudden screeching of breaks as a car could be heard speeding in their direction. The girls stopped and turned to look back down the street, but towering oaks and storied houses blocked their view. A soft wind had picked up, which washed leaves down onto the street and Roshi had to take a step forward to see the end of the street.

For a moment he thought it was Goten. That kid was a danger to all, he had lost count of the times his student's son had skidded around the street corner and when he stopped he seemed no more worse for wear as music shook the very nuts and bolts of that vehicle he calls transportation. It seemed for a moment his wish for a new coat of paint would come true. And although he had designated himself a hermit by never contacting those he knew, he humored them by moving into town.

'It will give you a social life' they had said. After experiencing what was meant to be an old man's social life, which consisted of pruning roses and waving to passers-by, he would much rather return to his small hut by the sea. Alone.

He turned his attention back to the approaching car, which slowed slightly on its approach. Roshi bit his lip as he tried to recognise the car, then sighed, so it wasn't for him. He turned to walk back into the house when he heard his name screamed out in panic. But there was no way he was able to distinguish its owner, he had no time to think, his mind was unable to roll over the possibilities.

Shifting his vision he was able to catch the moment when one of his windows shattered, the wooden frame splintering beside it. Fire shot through his back, making its way quickly to his chest as he fell into the grass, his ears ringing with the loud cracks shaking the air. His breathing came in short and fast, his feeling fading, vision blurring. It was all he could do to stay conscious as his chest screamed, head twisting under pressure. The darkness was a relief when it arrived just seconds later, propelled into black, just drifting, painless.

There was no way the old teacher could sense the water as it sprayed from the hose into the ground, soaking his front. No way he could have felt the pain that shot through the brunettes shoulder, radiating from the growing stain on her white shirt. No way he could watch his own blood drift, washing into the soil, drifting with the water flow. He had fallen, softly comforted in darkness.

An expression of surprise, of fear mixed in with the smile frozen on his face.