A/N: This is a rewrite of my old and hideous fic 'The Ignorance of Others' – I advise you not to read it. I am still seriously considering removing it, but as it's one of my first fics, and it's just so pathetic and badly written, I'm leaving it up for kicks. This version takes on a much more serious tone, and perhaps a completely different direction. Do not expect updates quickly – I'm writing this when I get bored and feel like working on it. Tell me if you think it's any good.

Pan found it unforgivable.

She felt betrayed, apathetic and alone.

A wash of pain at the unfairness of the situation spread over her body as she curled up on her bed, tearing her face away from the framed photograph that sat on her bedside table.

She knew that she was being illogical and perhaps even unreasonable, but she felt that she had been cheated out of life somehow.

The scarring tears grooved down her cheeks as she stared emptily at the picture of Trunks and herself, realising she would never again feel the emotion displayed in the photo.

It recalled a happier time, a reunion of family and friends, a moment in time snapped by Goten as Pan had been trying to force feed Trunks some lemon cake, half choking him with an arm slung around his shoulder and throat, the other stuffing the cake into his mouth. Trunks' eyes were bulging, but there was a grin in them and in the curved corners of his mouth.

They had both been happy.

They had all been happy.

Happy just to be. Pan knew she loved Trunks, and now that he was… gone… She felt the connection they had shared more deeply than before, though now with a despondence of an irretrievable loss.

Pan pulled back the curtains draped over her window and glanced out into the approaching darkness.

She did not want to ever go outside again.

But an uncontrollable urge to fly, to be freed, came over her in waves, and before she realised, she had hovered out of the window and was reaching into the night of stars.

Even from a young age, Pan had been treated as a small child that was never going to grow up.

Perhaps it was her father's protective nature, but now, at the age of 25, Pan still did not feel she had been recognised as an adult woman in her own right. She appreciated that others cared for her, but she did not appreciate being treated as though she couldn't handle responsibility.

She had loved going to school, if not simply for the fact she could be herself, nearly unrestricted. However, she had not been allowed to meet friends outside of school, and she was never permitted to show her true strength. There were always problems associated with being part of an alien family.

Flying now, in the black of night, Pan felt slightly reassured and comforted. The cold wind rippled against her back, and with the moon casting shadows on the trees below her, she did not feel so alone.

What had happened to Trunks had been terrible. Pan had refused to think of it for the past few days – since she had found out. Now, as she unconsciously flew to where she had last seen him, she found herself remembering things they had done together, times they had shared. Not only the happy memories, but times they had fought, they had been angry at each other, and hating to be in each other's presence.

Now she would have given anything to have him back.

She landed in the grounds of Capsule Corp. Only one light was still on in the large building. Pan guessed that it was Bulma, unable to rest since her son's death, keeping her mind occupied with some scientific contraption.

The idea sprung itself on her as she was nearly at the back door of Capsule Corp. The Dragon Balls. One wish could solve everything.

A fresh hope was poured out within her heart. Trunks could be brought back to life.

She entered the code for entrance into the Capsule Corp. building at the door, and meandered through the corridors, trying to formulate some sort of plan.

All she had to do, in the idea's most numbingly simple, was to obtain the radar to gather the dragon balls, and speak her heart's desire.

She walked right past the lit room on the lower floor, heading to a door at the end, where she knew Bulma stored failed pieces or prototypes of Capsule technology and treasures from the old days.

There was no lock on the door; a turn of the handle and it opened, revealing boxes sitting in darkness. Quietly, she switched the light on and took in her surroundings. There were shelves in the corner, packed with small labelled capsules, and a simple drawstring brown bag that would have fit into her palm. The room was not that large; at her feet were several boxes with black texta words of "maid prototype" or "gravity room machine". Pan could not see where Bulma would have kept the dragon ball radar, unless it was hidden in one of the sealed boxes.

There were some white drawers on the opposite side of the room, which Pan thought she would inspect first. To her surprise, she found the radar enclosed in a wrapped package in the second drawer. After finding that it still worked, she exited the room and closed the door behind her.

The radar was already showing the location of a dragon ball not too far away. It was probably the one her father kept in the study at her own house.

Pan had nearly walked all the way back down the corridor before she remembered she hadn't turned off the light in Bulma's store room. Doubling back, she switched off the light and headed back to the building's exit, again passing the room where she thought Bulma had been working. The light was out now – perhaps she had gone to her rooms to try and sleep.

Feeling as though she was in the same boat as her old family friend, in regards to the inability to sleep after losing a loved one, Pan decided that her focus from now on would be utterly on the goal of wishing Trunks back.

She was not looking where she was going as she was observing the dragon radar, and was surprised she had not sensed the person she bumped into at the exit of the building.

"Oh, sorry Bu-"

It was not Bulma at all. Bulma had not been in that room, twiddling with new designs late at night.

Vegeta, former prince of an elite race, stood at the door, his arms folded in a casual manner, betraying the look of anger on his face.

Pan waited for him to accuse her of breaking an entering, or at least to ask what the hell she was doing there, but the man's eyes flickered to the radar in her arms and he was clearly anticipating her to speak first, perhaps to explain herself.

Pan shrugged disconsolately.

"I think we can bring him back."

Vegeta surveyed the slouch of her shoulders, her unkempt black hair and her rumpled clothes. A sense of duty pervaded his rational thought, as he imagined what one of the girl's relatives would say if they saw her sneaking out at night, even if only to try and bring her lover back to life.

"Very well," he acknowledged. "I will accompany you."

Pan stared at him, wondering why he was not only allowing her actions to continue, but that he would practically be following her.

Then, she remembered, that this was the father of a man whose son had recently been killed. Surely, under that mask, the man named Vegeta was hurting too.

He nodded at her, as if to signal that she should continue moving outside, and she whipped around, consulting the radar for the position of a dragon ball.

"I know my father has one of them," she announced to the cold air outside Capsule Corp. Vegeta did not reply. "So I'm going to get allthe others first."

She glanced behind her. She could now see that Vegeta was wearing a training suit. Pan wondered if he had been training to work out some of his frustration, or sorrow, or anguish at Trunks' death.

Then again, Vegeta trained all the time. He had not needed a reason to do so before.

Pan double-checked the radar. She pointed vaguely to the right.

"That way."

She took to the sky once more, this time with the guardian shadow of a powerful man trailing on the ground below, pursuing her own.