In the nuclear winds of total carnage, his awareness flew apart like frail tissue paper, burnt to ash. What was left of him floated in the in-between, locked within the decimation of breaking bone and boiling blood. Everything was twisted into an unrecognizable version of itself as the massacre of his soul ripped all that he was into tattered shreds.

And still, he did not die.

Time and again, driven by rage and desperation, he punctured ragged, unholy tears through the fabric of space and time, defying the barriers separating dimensions and alternate universes in his fury. Searching. Looking. Always seeking.

Sometimes he found her.

Sometimes the version he found was older or younger than the first incarnation had been; sometimes she knew him and sometimes she did not. It mattered not at all to him her feelings or desires, or what she believed to be right or wrong, or what she thought of him. In those moments when he again took her as his own, he felt the soothing flood of cool relief in the wretched corruption of his damaged, immortal soul. Buried within her body, he found he could be mortal again; living, breathing, and real. He tore the love from her, whether she wanted him to or not, and bathed himself in it.

But it was always the same. After a time, sometimes days – sometimes as long as a few years, her fragile heart would shatter against him and he would lose her again. Sometimes his wild, terrible might would explode from his control in a moment of inattention. A mere breath, without perfect focus, could destroy worlds. How could she, in her soft, human frailty, withstand it?

But most often she did it to herself, just as she had the very first time, when his immortality was new and his sanity more secure. In the beginning, she had given him her reluctant love, but she had grown to hate herself for it. She had known the ever downward-spiraling, cruel, and crazed monstrosity that he was. Though it broke her spirit, she hadn't abandoned him. She knew she alone could temper him and give him cause to exercise restraint. She only chose to leave him when she had learned she carried his child. She hadn't wanted their son to become like him.

But it was inevitable. No matter how many times he found and took her, she would leave him again. And he would rampage, destroying galaxies and universes in the wake of his grief, losing even more of himself in his torment. If he could, he would turn his own colossal power against himself. He had done so, more times than he could count… but always, he would be pulled back into vile, detestable existence. There was no escape from the depth of his agony, and there was no end.

Such is the curse of the Namekian dragon balls when it had granted his wish before turning to stone. At first, immortality had been a blessing – he had defeated Frieza and had elected to take the fiery Earth-woman with impossible colors with him. He had made her a witness to his triumph as he systematically obliterated the rest of the galaxy under the iron fist of his control. He had found an elixir to extend her life indefinitely. She was fragile still, but immune to years, and as a gift in his joy, he had saved Earth for last. But it hadn't been enough. He was drunk on his own power, never caring that with every soul he snuffed out, hers, too, was fading. He hadn't believed she would leave him. He was certain she would snap out of her human sentimentality, especially after distracting her with the gift of his seed. It would be glorious. The three of them together. There would be no end to their rule…

Until she tore it all away from him. With a simple blade to her slender wrists, the unstoppable toppled. What once had been a vast, unending empire fell to dust under the devastation of his fury and heart break the moment he found her lifeless form.

So he hunts for her to feel whole.

And each time he finds and loses her again, his failure and loss feel more complete. Each time he is destroyed in the aftermath of his own terrible grief, he re-manifests a little less sane, a little less controlled, but all the more powerful.

Once, in the beginning, he had tried to burst through the fabric of time and return to Namek to prevent his wish. But what was done, was done.

So he had wished for death.

Such was his fate that no dragon anywhere had the power to overcome the abomination he had become.

So he is cursed to search through the ends of time and the star-stuff of creation for the only one who can ease his pain and soothe his need. Hundreds of her lives later, after thousands of universes lay crumbled under his heel, he still barrels through the planes of existence in his lonely, unending pursuit.

For the hundred-thousandth time in the hundred-thousandth dimension, he found himself back on Earth. He had found her here before. He would find her here again.

OoOoO

Something lurched from the pit of his gut and wrenched his soul from the place it had been sleeping. Instantly faint, Vegeta fell to his knees, but caught himself with his hands before he collapsed to the ground. His vision dimmed and his ears flooded with the crashing sound of his own blood as it turned to ice water in his veins. He felt sluggish and weak, and his thoughts were crushed beneath the weight of his fear. He almost gave in; it would be so much simpler to allow himself to lay down and cease to exist than it would be to stand against that limitless, malicious force.

But the rolling, thunderous agony that radiated from the approaching monster was so thick and complete, it saturated the strands of his own feeble soul. The taste of this creature's essence was too monumental to be mere ki… even so, it was – to Vegeta – just at the edge of his understanding because he recognized that it was, an eternity ago, an alternate version himself.

And it wanted Bulma.

Vegeta forced himself to rise from where he had fallen within the confines of his ship; his unfinished gravity room. Trembling and too terrified to truly wrap his mind around his own actions, he opened the door and exited.

The beast turned towards him and unholy, supernatural eyes pinned him in place. Power exuded from every pore, and Vegeta knew that only total madness would enable this thing to wield such primeval omnipotence. It laughed as it gazed upon a mortal version of itself, and Vegeta was certain that the insane God had encountered such counterparts before, and slaughtered them gleefully. It didn't like to be reminded that in other dimensions, there were mortal versions who had what it no longer had. So it gifted them with what it could not have itself.

Death.

In the edge of his perception, he saw movement. In a panicked reflex, his head shot to the left, just as the crazed soul-reaper's head snapped to the right.

Bulma stumbled out onto the patio in haphazard unawareness, humming to herself and twirling a wrench in her hand. She halted abruptly when she saw Vegeta, a crumpled look of confusion clouding her fair features. Some sort of understanding came to her though, when she saw the sheer depth of horror and despair on Vegeta's face. The toolbox clutched in her hand fell from her fingers. Tools exploded outward as the box hit the ground, but none made a sound as they bounced and scattered in slow motion and came to rest on the cool concrete.

She slowly turned to look to her left with watering eyes, frozen open wide. Somehow she knew that before her stood a deadly demon despite its resemblance to the Saiyan Prince. This Vegeta – if it ever had been Vegeta - was the total manifestation of howling pain, fury, want, and evil. There was no end to its seething, ravenous need. It would crawl through her veins and devour her soul like maggots on a rotting corpse. Under the madness flickering in its eyes, it looked at her with wicked, loathing hunger, and she knew this alone could shatter her soul.

Vegeta whispered from her right. "Bulma.."

She would have flinched at the sound of her name, but she was locked in place by terror. He called her name again, and then a third time, and she flicked her eyes to the Vegeta she knew. His hand was raised towards her, and somehow that gave her strength. She took it and allowed herself to be flung behind him as he shielded her.

The monster dropped its chin and peered at Vegeta with a flat gaze full of searing fury. Its lip curled up in a silent snarl.

Vegeta crouched low and took a step backwards. His arms spread out to keep her behind him, and she clutched his shoulders and backed up with him. When the beast in front of them growled, she felt the Saiyan tremble beneath her fingers. Petrified, she pressed her body as close to him as she could, and hugged him from behind.

It never occurred to her that her trust for Vegeta was so absolute - especially when what confronted them was a reflection of what her Vegeta was capable of becoming. She may consider this during the months he flees to space after the failed wish that should have returned Goku. But now, fear leaves no room for thought.

"Your display is meaningless. You know I will take her," the twisted Vegeta hissed in its native language.

"That is not what you truly desire," rasped the Vegeta she clung to, and she almost wished she had never learned the language programmed in the scouter Radditz had left behind.

Yet the words had a profound effect on the demon. Its features pinched in devastation and grief. It lasted but a moment before it threw its head back to cackle. Its laughter stoped abruptly and its terrible gaze fell back on them. The change from emotion to emotion was so complete and vast, it dizzied her. Such was the nature of its madness, and her fear of it grew. "You cannot give me what I truly desire," it rumbled menacingly.

Vegeta's breath hitched in his throat, and she felt him swallow. She hugged him tighter and willed him strength. He reached up with a hand and clutched her interlocked fists around his neck within his own for reassurance. "And if I can..?" he forced.

The other Vegeta tilted its head, considering, and hope burned in its eyes. "Then I shall gladly surrender it to you," it stated wistfully. But then its face hardened. "But such a thing is impossible."

Vegeta squeezed her hands again and broke away from her grasp, and she cradled herself to fill the empty space where he had been standing. He warily steped away from her in small increments and made his way towards his other self. She could feel the fear as it radiated from him, but he possessed the potential for the same madness as the beast he faced; life under Frieza made him steadfast and just a little insane - just enough so that he could advance. When he was close enough to reach out with a gloved hand, he did so. She saw his fingers tremble and she knew with certainty: never before had she been in such awe of anyone than she is of the Saiyan Prince in that moment, and never would she be again. Part of her soul broke away and forever became his. No matter the outcome of this encounter, no matter past or the future, regardless of who and what Vegeta was, is, or will be, this part of her will always revere and belong to him.

Desperate for release, the God of darkness eagerly extended its own hand and – at the last moment – realized it must be gentle. With a feather light touch, it placed its fingers in the outstretched hand of its counterpart.

Her Vegeta spoke quietly, but her fear and adrenaline augmented her hearing and she knew exactly what is said.

"True immortality is not of body, but of mind. When the flesh dies, it is the essence of mind that reassembles all."

She saw the monster was riveted, and hungrily devoured the words summoned by her Vegeta.

"Surrender all you know to me, and your memories will live on – allowing your body to die."

The crazed features of the beast twisted in a snarl. "You lie!" it roared, and in reflex, it tensed its grip and her Vegeta dropped to his knee as the bones in his hand were crushed.

Clearly in pain, he wailed, "It is no lie!"

Instantly, the grip on his hand relaxed. With effort, Vegeta stood, and she saw the sweat dripping down his neck.

In another abrupt shift, the creature smileed and allowed its black-hole eyes to drift shut. She saw flickering, and wasn't certain if it was her own eyes that failed, or if she was witnessing something terrifying and profound. The sky darkened and the earth under her rumbled. Clouds rushed past overhead, and the skies erupted in light. The flickering intensified and sped up, and she realized that each time the sun whizzed by, it was followed by stars streaking overhead. She knew then that the earth was spinning wildly. The very gravity below her was crushing, and she fell to her side, and gasped for breath. Her head arched back and she screamed silently, and she knew her body was on the cusp of bursting under the pressure.

There was an implosion followed by an atomic light that burned through her flesh and tore into her soul. The sound was subsonic, but it reverberated through her bones and she felt as though she were burning to ash.

And then, everything shuddered to a stop.

OoOoO

It takes a moment for her body's reflexes to catch up. When it does, she gasps for air, chokes, and finally vomits bile. Dizzy and disoriented, it takes her a minute to gain enough control of herself to peer up at Vegeta. Though her vision still swims, she sees he has collapsed to his knees and one hand. His broken hand is still raised, and from his fingers, there is smoke. He is alone. The demon is gone.

His whole body shudders, and he too curls in on himself and vomits violently. When there is no more to heave, his back arches and he throws his head back. An inhuman scream gurgles in his throat, and when it finally tears free, her hands fly to cover her ears. He screams unendingly until his voice breaks, and still he screams silently. When he runs out of breath, his body trembles until there is nothing left and he collapses to the ground.

Weak and terrified that he is dead, she pulls her body towards him. When she reaches him, his wild eyes roll back and forth yet see nothing, and his whole body writhes in pain. Helpless on what she should do, she grabs his head and cradles it in her lap, and soothes him by singing softly while smoothing his hair. She holds him this way for hours until his breathing is unlabored and his heart no longer feels as though it will burst from his chest. His unseeing eyes shift and with effort, he focuses on her. She tenses in fear when, just for a moment, she sees the echo of madness reflected there. But then it is gone, and she relaxes. Perhaps it hadn't really been there…

Vegeta pushes himself away from her, and tries to get to his feet. When she tries to help him stand, he bears his teeth at her and pulls away as if burned. She follows him as he lurches towards the safety of his ship and punches the release that opens the door. On the threshold, he turns halfway towards her.

In a ruined voice, he croaks in English, "Leave me," and hisses at her venomously when she takes a step towards him, her hand outstretched. She jumps and snatches her hand back to cradle it to her chest.

It takes her a moment to clear the lump in her throat. "If.. if you need me…" her words linger in the air between them. He wants nothing more than to grab them and hold on to them as the lifeline she intends them to be. Instead he turns his face away from her and nods before retreating into his ship.

He locks the door and puts his back to it, listening to her footsteps as they move away. Then, he slides to the floor, kicks his legs out, and allows his head to fall back to rest against the coldness of the metal behind him.

He did it. The immortal is dead.

He had done it out of fear – fear for himself, but also fear from seeing what he was capable of becoming. The madness he had seen reflected in eyes so much like his own was a madness he had seen first in Frieza. Something in him wouldn't – couldn't – stomach surrendering another being to a madness like that. Especially not the only one who had ever seen value in him, treated him as she did any other she called friend, and believed him to be better than he was. Her simple, innocent faith gave him the desire to try to be that man. The man he was supposed to have been before Frieza.

He hadn't really known if what he had claimed was possible – the mind and the body were one, where they not? Besides, he had no conception of immortality. In fact, the taste of his own mortality still clung to him in the shape of a small, round scar just above his heart.

He had made a wild, desperate claim to his immortal, crazed counterpart – the only one that had any chance of saving himself… and her, he could admit. But he hadn't really believed it would work.

Yet as his brain was raped with the intoxicating visions of her blood coating his tongue, the feel of her thrashing body tearing and trembling under him, crashing and heaving against him as he sought his own sizzling release, the scent of her tears and sound of her pleasure and pain as they mixed with her need and her fear…

He had killed the un-killable, yet he had not. He had not been the one to form the ki strike at all. At the last moment, so drunk and dizzy was he by the images of dominating and tormenting his – the beast's - woman that his own strength had failed. It had been his demon counterpart that twisted its own power on itself.

It had worked though, and it had stayed dead, but only because Vegeta had been right.

Immortality was in the mind…

And now the immortal madness lived on within him. Every moment of despair, every seething memory, every crushing, crazed desire, every sensation from every desperate loss. It was agony, and it was without end.

He couldn't stay on Earth. Bulma was not safe. He didn't know what the gentle, just-forming sense of acceptance he had felt for her had been before.. a mild respect perhaps, a curiosity; the stirrings of hope in himself that she inspired. It may have, over time, become something else entirely. Something more. And if his insane counterpart could feel for her the devastating need to own, break, and use… if that monster could love her - then certainly he himself was capable. But until he learned how to bury the beast and control it, he couldn't risk it.. wouldn't risk her. If he succumbed to those desires, he could kill her. Or worse. And then, he'd have nothing but hollow madness left.

He'd wait for Kakarot to be wished back and ask for the secret. Perhaps if he could become stronger, if he learned how to transform as Kakarot had transformed, he'd be better able to handle this new animal within him. If he couldn't master it quickly, then he'd retreat to space for as long as he could bear to stay away. Until he could control himself, he must keep her at a distance whatever the cost. He must be the cruel and cold Saiyan Prince Frieza had created. It was for her own good. And his.

But…

No matter the past or future, no matter what she did or who she was or would become, he'd always return to her. Whether she wanted him to or not.