A/N: Infinite thanks to those of you out there reading the story. I don't know who you are, but I see the views :) Special thanks to Dulcet Shoujo for her wonderful review!

If you guys are reading and are enjoying the story, please consider leaving me a comment. I cannot overstate how wonderful and motivating it is to hear from people liking the story! The words of encouragement get me writing immediately! :D

This is the longest chapter yet. Hope you guys like it. Our brave Bulma will be in for a few surprises.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

CHAPTER III

Okay, so her emotions were kind of all over the place. It was to be expected, given the circumstances. She'd been through a hell of a lot in the past month. She had trekked all the way across space - almost dying twice along the way - only to have her ship destroyed the minute she arrived. Since then, she had been stranded on this stinking planet, had almost died multiple times again, had barely slept, couldn't remember the last time she'd showered - and now, on top of all that, she had been taken hostage by an alien serial killer. Who wouldn't be an emotional wreck?

She kept wanting it all to be a bad dream. But, when she woke from her unintentional nap, there he was - Vegeta - sitting just yards away. Looking at her no less. The second she caught his gaze, he swiftly turned his head the other way.

Bulma was a heavy sleeper. You could probably find her in a burning house sleeping like a baby. So, knowing she had left herself that vulnerable, next to Vegeta of all people, was a little mortifying. Blue in the face at the thought, she pulled herself up to a sitting position, wrapping her arms securely around her body. "Creep," she muttered. "He better not have tried anything while I was sleeping."

"What?"

Bulma started. Guess his hearing is superhuman, too. She doubled down. "You heard me! I said you better not have tried anything funny while I was sleeping!"

The Prince grimaced at her. "What is it with you and these preposterous suggestions? As if I would have any interest in the likes of you."

"Stop looking at me while I sleep then!"

He snarled. "I was not looking at you!"

"Liar."

Vegeta whipped his head in the other direction with a "tch," and the conversation died there.

Bulma knew she wasn't helping her situation in any way by talking back to Vegeta the way she did. If anything, every time she gave him lip, she was probably quadrupling her chances of getting herself killed.

It wasn't like he didn't scare her. Quite the contrary. Of all the villains she had encountered during the course of her adventurous lifetime, none of them frightened her like Vegeta did. And, sheer power aside - which, alone, was enough reason to fear him - she found there was something about him that scared her.

It wasn't his appearance that was scary. Vegeta was not a grisly, hideous beast with fangs or horns or claws. You would actually never even guess that he wasn't human by looking at him. Even by human standards, he wasn't a particularly intimidating looking guy. He was not some large and menacing musclehead. He was quite small - much smaller than Goku and only an inch or two taller her - well built, but lean. While his constant scowl made him less than approachable, his face itself was quite average - certainly not unsightly. Really, the only outward clue to give away his extraterrestrial heritage was the garb he wore, and maybe his outlandishly shaped hair, which spiked up into a rigid flame of black.

The man just didn't fit any notion of someone who committed genocide and enjoyed blowing innocent people to pieces. And that's precisely what was so unnerving. He was a monster in the shape of a human being. A predator in disguise.

And like a good predator, he was hard to predict. He could either be calm or feral, calculating or impulsive, sedate or violent. His demeanor was volatile and made him extremely dangerous.

Yet, here she was, in his custody with her life hanging in the balance, heedlessly pushing buttons and testing limits. She couldn't help it. She had always been hotheaded and combative. Surprisingly, being in presence of a murderous superhuman who could end her life in an instant didn't seem to change that. He just made her so angry. His hubris infuriated her. It's like anytime he started talking he knew the exact things to say to set her off. And once Bulma was set off, well, it was hard to control her.

Hours after he'd kidnapped her, when Bulma had done pretty much everything she could think of to distract herself, she began to brainstorm her escape.

She didn't have many options.

Bribery was out. She had already tried that. It had been impulsive, for sure, but she wasn't ashamed. Desperate times called for desperate measures - and it's not like she hadn't tried using her looks to her advantage in similar situations before.

Making a run for it was out of the question. What with Vegeta's little display of speed earlier, Bulma knew even if she sprinted she wouldn't make it more than a few yards before he caught her. Plus, he had made it pretty crystal clear that if she tried to run, there would be consequences – and the Saiyan didn't strike her as one to make idle threats. Needless to say, Bulma didn't feel particularly eager to part with any of her limbs.

Physical resistance was just as absurd. The fighter was, quite literally, thousands of times stronger than her. Trying to fathom his power was like trying to fathom the power of a god; it was beyond human comprehension. He had nearly broken her jaw earlier with but a light squeeze of his fingers, and before that, when she had pummeled him from behind, it had been like pounding on a brick wall. If she were to attack him and he retaliated by so much as even hitting her, Bulma was confident it would be enough to kill her. She could try the machine gun stored away in one of her capsules, but she knew even that would be useless against him. If Earth's military arsenal wasn't enough to stop him, she failed to see how one puny assault weapon of hers would.

She sighed. As far as she could tell, there was no escape from this situation. At least, no immediate escape, anyway.

No. She would need to think outside the box if she hoped to live.

But what?

She stole a glance at Vegeta. For how trigger-happy and quick-tempered he was, he was weirdly patient. For hours now, he had been sitting against the wall in the same position - legs out with his ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest - alternating between resting his eyes and staring off broodingly. What kind of psycho can just sit that still for so long?

Curiously, as she stared, she found herself half wondering what kind of things Vegeta could be thinking about. She was a scientist, after all; it was in her nature to be inquisitive. She couldn't help but find something strangely alluring about his mysterious air.

That gave her an idea. A shoddy idea, but an idea nonetheless. Maybe... if she could break the ice somehow - learn a bit about him, stroke his ego, gain his trust - it might just be enough for him to eventually let down his guard so she could make an escape. She was basically grasping at straws with this plan, but she had no other bright ideas at the moment, and she was getting antsy. She needed to do something.

There was a glaringly obvious problem, though. Vegeta was clearly not the conversationalist. If there was one thing she had already learned about him already, it was that talking to him was much like trying to charm a cobra. No matter how much tact you used, you were at risk of him striking at any moment.

And what the hell would they even talk about? The weather? How he got his hair to stay like that? Maniacal plots to take over the universe?

Bulma sat mulling over this idea for nearly another hour before she finally decided it was worth a go, and even then, it took another several minutes to muster up the courage. Finally, with a deep, unsteady breath, she stood and made her way over to Vegeta.

You can do this, Bulma. You can do this, you can do this!

He didn't bother looking at her as she approached. "What do you want?"

She did her best to brush off the harshness in his tone and sat down a couple yards away from him. Not too close, obviously. She wasn't that crazy.

She forced a shaky smile. "I... thought maybe we could start over."

His head stayed in place, but his gaze shifted to her slowly. A sudden chill slithered through her, and it took everything she had in that moment to not turn around and crawl away. On second thought, maybe this is a bad idea...

"I just... think we got off on the wrong foot, you know?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then let out a loud and raucous laugh. "That's cute," he mocked, tilting his head at her. "Are we friends now? Going to shoot the breeze?"

Bulma faltered, mind blanking. "I...I..."

"'Start over'... Please." He scoffed. "You're my hostage - have you forgotten already? Or is your skull just so thick that it doesn't grasp the concept? I didn't bring you here to chit chat, Girl." His head turned away. "Beat it. Go back to reading your silly picture books or whatever it is you were doing."

He's so rude! Bulma went on the defensive, instantly forgetting her fear. "Hmph, excuse me - you don't have to talk down to me, you know! We could be here awhile, and all I mean is..." She paused to rein in her anger and started again, her tone softer. "...All I mean is, there's nothing to do but wait, so we might as well get to know each other a little bit to pass the time, don't ya think?"

He snorted. "And what could I possibly have to gain from such a ridiculous idea?"

"Well, for one, it would keep me from dying of boredom before my friends even get here. Seriously, Vegeta, I'm going crazy over there."

He shot her a side glance and scowled. "Really, are you such a child that you can't handle sitting still for a couple days?"

"Hmph. Don't act like it's somehow normal to be as aloof and antisocial as you. I'm a social being; I need social interaction." She braced her hands against the ground and leaned forward, looking at him earnestly. "If you're going to insist on keeping me captive here with you, then you're going to have to talk to me a little bit, Vegeta."

He looked away with a grunt.

When it was clear he had no intention of saying anything else, her frustration rose like tidal wave inside her. "Ugh, will you get over yourself!" she blurted. "Look, I get that you're a prince and all and that you think that makes you better than everyone, but would it kill you to at least try to be just a little less rude? I'm just trying to talk to you!"

He remained silent.

"Helllooo?"

He whirled on her suddenly, eyes flaring. "Would you shut up?" Bulma instantly recoiled. He bared his teeth at her. "Good gods, every time you open your mouth, more nonsense comes out. I'm trying hard to refrain from BLASTING you into oblivion right now, but I swear I'm finding it more difficult every time you speak."

For a long moment, she was silent, heart pounding, thoughts clashing. Should I abort? Part of her screamed yes. Clearly, she'd pushed a few buttons already. He was irritated, and it frightened her.

The other part of her though... said to hell with it.

"I'm just trying to talk to you, Vegeta." She kept her voice soft as she spoke this time.

He growled. "And how many times must I tell you, Girl, that I have zero interest in talking to you."

"You know, you keep calling me that," she observed sternly. "I'm not Girl..."

"Fine, Woman then."

This guy is impossible!

"Hmph! No. I'm not Woman, either! I actually have this thing called a name! And It's Bulma."

"And what does it matter, Woman, when you'll be dead soon anyway?" The bluntness of his statement struck her like a slap to the face. She had been trying hard to keep the thoughts of death at bay, but his words served as a brutal reminder of the fate that most likely awaited her at the end of this whole ordeal. His eyes bore into hers, black as ebony and piercingly cold. "You think you'll be leaving this planet alive? Make no mistake - after I've killed Frieza, Kakarot and all of you are next." He grinned wickedly. "Even if you do manage to escape this ball of dirt, I'll come find you. It was my plan to pay another visit to Earth anyway. I'll bet I can sell it for a fine price, once I've purged it of all its worthless inhabitants."

This all seemed so pointless all of a sudden. What the hell was she thinking, trying to have a conversation with a person who wanted her and all her friends dead? What a stupid idea this had been. She supposed a small sliver of her had hoped that by giving him benefit of the doubt, she might discover that he wasn't nearly as bad to the core as he seemed. But now, she realized how stupid it was for her to even think there might be another side to him.

Then something occurred to her. "Well, wait, hold up a second." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Are you saying that no matter what happens, your plan is to kill us?"

"That right," he said, smiling.

"But I thought you'd said you would let us live if we gave you the information you want."

"I never said that."

Bulma nearly fell over. "Are you for real!? Well what's the point of any of this, then!" Her voice was rising again. "If you're just going to kill us anyway, why should we bother cooperating with you at all, HUH?"

He shrugged. "Depends. Is it a quick and merciful death you want – or slow and agonizing one? It's your choice, though I highly recommend the former."

"NEITHER! I want neither!" Bulma was practically shaking with anger now. She wanted nothing more than to smack that arrogant smirk right off his face. "This is ridiculous! I mean, I can kind of get you wanting revenge against Goku and all, maybe - but you would really kill the rest of us, even if we help you?!"

"Hmph. Why would I keep you alive?"

Bulma blinked through her rage. The answer seemed obvious. "Because why not? We're no threat to you! What reason would you have to kill us?"

He chuckled at that. "Reason? I didn't realize I need I reason."

The reply stunned her.

She was suddenly disturbingly aware that Vegeta, for unknown reasons, operated within an entirely different paradigm than she did. To her, it seemed obvious that someone would abstain from killing, unless there was something to gain from it. For Vegeta, though, it was – unquestionably, it seemed - the other way around. What reason was there to not kill someone, unless there was something to gain from letting them live? It was a system of thought so backwards, so demented, so chilling, that she couldn't begin wrap her head around it.

"What is wrong with you? Is this really how you get your kicks? By tormenting people?"

"I guess you could say that," he chuckled.

"Why? Why are you like this?"

The last query had slipped from her mouth unintentionally, its magnitude making even her uncomfortable. She didn't really expect Vegeta to answer such a probing question. The guy wasn't just a closed book; he was book with a fucking padlock on it. She would need a crowbar to pry him open. And even then, she wasn't sure she even wanted to know what was inside...

"Like what?" he asked.

Bulma looked at him incredulously. "Mean? Bitter? Evil?...A killer?" Did she really need to go through the whole list? "I mean, did something happen to you to make you this way?"

"Tch, what is this, a therapy session?" he sneered, then looked away. "What a pointless question. Killing is in our blood, simple as that."

Our blood. He must mean Saiyan blood. "No." She shook her head. "No, that's not true. Goku is a Saiyan, too - but I've known him his whole life. He's sweet. He would never kill anybody."

"Hmph." Vegeta's face twisted bitterly. "That's because that stupid planet of yours has made him soft. All Saiyans are killers, deep down. Even Kakarot. Even his little half-breed spawn."

"No, you're wrong," she bit back, voice loud. "First of all, his name isn't Kaka - whatever. It's Goku. Get it right! Secondly, he may be a Saiyan, but that doesn't mean he has to be a killer like y -"

Next thing she knew, she was on her feet with Vegeta directly in front of her, his gloved hand clasped tightly over her mouth. "Shut up!" His voice was low but forceful, and he was so close to her she could feel the words hot on her petrified face. She watched as Vegeta turned his head ever so slightly, and realized that he was focusing on something that was not her. "Someone's coming," he said. "I sense them." She let out a muffled squeak without meaning to, prompting the grasp to tighten. "Be quiet!"

They waited. Vegeta's breath hit her in steady exhales, his body still but incredibly tense. Her adrenaline was through the roof. Her body began to tremble and her heart pumped so hard and fast she was almost sure it would pop out of her chest. Was it... Frieza?

Suddenly, she heard voices. The men they belonged to were distant but fast approaching.

"I swear I heard something," she heard one of them say. "It came from over here."

"Are you sure?" came another voice. "I don't hear anything."

She grew still as a statue. She couldn't feel Vegeta's breath anymore; he was holding it, just as she was holding hers. Then, Vegeta's head turned sharply as a voice called out, loudly and clearly, "I-It's the dragon balls! And... VEGETA!" The Saiyan wheeled around, allowing Bulma to catch sight of the three armor clad men standing just a few yards behind him. There was an older human looking man with white mutton chops wreathing his face, a purple-skinned alien with an elongated head, and a yellow amphibian looking creature. She recognized instantly by what they wore that they worked for Frieza.

What came next happened so fast Bulma hardly had time to process or react. "DON'T MOVE!" someone shouted. She felt a rush of air as Vegeta's body left her. The purple soldier drew his gun, but he never had a chance to fire it. With lightning speed, Vegeta appeared before him. In one swift and fluid motion, one of his hands pulled the alien forward by the shoulder while the other released a vicious ki blast flush against his stomach. The soldier's body lurched as the beam tore straight through him, its power launching his frame like a ragdoll into the air.

Without a nanosecond's pause, Vegeta's arm then swung out and around, firing another whir of light at the bearded humanoid who had simultaneously raised his gun to shoot. The blast hit the man square in the chest. He hurtled back into the wall - the impact splintering the rock behind him with a clacking boom - and slumped to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Bulma watched the events unfold, utterly paralyzed. Time seemed to stop, blur by, slow down - all at once. Her mind was blank. Vegeta was acting faster than her brain was even able to formulate a single thought.

Somewhere in the hysteria, the yellow soldier approached her, but she didn't notice it. By the time she finally registered, it was too late. She heard the zizz of his weapon as it fired straight for her, heard the laser beam singing through the air. But then she blinked. And suddenly Vegeta's back was in front of her, his arm extended to the side. He had swatted the gun's beam away as if it were a fly.

The yellow soldier's mouth fell agape, and for a split second Bulma could feel his dread. She blinked again. That was all the time it took for Vegeta to grab the amphibian by the head and drive it down onto the large rock next to them. He threw it down with such ferocity she could hear the skull as it cracked against the stone. It caved like a melon beneath Vegeta's hand, spraying what seemed like a bucket's worth of green goopy blood into the air.

It was then Bulma screamed.

Vegeta spun to her and rushed forward, stifling her shriek with his palm. "Why are you screaming! They're DEAD now!"

Her eyes blinked wildly. She was suddenly aware of a rapid, pulsating pressure in her head, and realized after a moment that it was her own pulse, booming in her ears. She could barely control her breaths, which were coming out her nose in sporadic, ragged bursts. It didn't help that a gloved hand was covering her mouth.

His hand. With horror, she noticed that his glove was covered in green. Green blood - and it was on her mouth. Frantically, she shook him off of her, panting. "Get your disgusting glove off of my FACE!" she gasped.

That cry expelled the last bit of energy she had in her. Suddenly sapped, Bulma let her body sag against the wall, eyelids drooping into a tired daze.

Vegeta stepped away to look at her scathingly. "Grrgah, I knew I should have ripped out your tongue!" he spat. "Just look at the trouble your loud mouth is causing me!"

"H-Hold on, Vegeta…" She meant to exclaim it, but the words tumbled from her mouth, weary and broken. Her head was swimming.

"From now on, no more talking!" he declared.

"I...don't think that's gonna be a problem," she said absently, distantly glad he was going to leave her tongue intact. "I don't really feel like talking anymore."

Vegeta grunted at her and turned to walk away. She glanced at his retreating form, then glanced to the mangled body that lay just feet away from her. "What...what about the bodies?"

"What about them?"

She blinked, confused that she needed to clarify. "Y-You can't just leave them here. They'll rot."

The Saiyan contemplated for a minute, then extended a palm and proceeded to incinerate the bodies, one by one, until they were nothing but piles of ash. When he was done, he turned to her with a grimace. "There, all gone," he announced. "Happy now?"

"Not really..." While she was happy she no longer had to look at a bunch of corpses, the smell of singed flesh that now wafted through the air was not helping her mounting queasiness. "I don't feel so great.." When he'd sat back down, she turned her head in his direction. "T-Thanks for saving me," she managed meekly.

The Prince grumbled. He was brushing off his sleeves, seemingly avoiding her gaze. "Keep your thanks," he told her. "I didn't do it for you."

Bulma was quiet for a long time after. Partly from residual shock, partly from exhaustion, partly from her stomach which would not stop churning.

She replayed the brutal scene in her head multiple times. It came to her in blurred fragments which she struggled to piece together. It had all happened so fast. It couldn't have lasted more than a minute - tops. And yet, she had witnessed more death firsthand in that minute than she had in her whole life.

It would seem she had just witnessed the Saiyan in his element. It had been like watching some grisly, macabre ballet; Vegeta had moved with a savage grace, his lethal movements executed concisely but - at the same time - with frenzied hotblooded passion. Like a predator slaughtering its prey. It wasn't a fight she'd watched. It was butchery.

Is this what Goku would be like? - if he hadn't bumped his head and grown up on Earth? Would he be a killing machine like Vegeta? She hated to think that he could ever have turned out like that. And what about Vegeta? What would he be like if he'd grown up like Goku? Would he be different?

Vegeta insisted that Goku harbored some dormant desire to kill. But he was so so so so wrong. She knew Goku like the back of her hand. For the twenty-odd years she had known him, not once had he shown any sign of wanting to hurt someone. Fighting, sure; he loved fighting and always had. But he had a heart of gold. So, clearly, killing wasn't a matter of Saiyan nature, like Vegeta said. And if it wasn't nature, it had to be nurture. Vegeta must have been taught to think this way - by someone, or something, in his life.

Goku's battle with Vegeta flashed through her mind suddenly. Krillin had the chance to kill Vegeta, but Goku had pleaded with him to let the villain go. She - and everyone else for that mater - initially dismissed Goku's actions as a result of his massive head injuries sustained from battle. But now... Bulma wondered. Why had he let him go? He didn't really think that there might actually be something more to Vegeta than just a mindless impulse to kill, did he?

Once she was feeling a little better, a question occurred to her that she had had for some time.

She glanced to the Saiyan, who was sitting in his characteristic brooding fashion. "Vegeta?" she ventured. He either ignored her or didn't hear her - she wasn't sure which. She tried again. "Vegeta."

"What is it." His reply was harsh, but she'd take it.

"Where did you go after you left Earth?" she asked.

"Hn?"

"After your fight with Goku, and you got back in your space pod – where did you go? Raditz told us your planet was destroyed years ago."

There was a slight delay, before he answered, "I went back to headquarters."

Bulma blinked. "Headquarters...?"

Vegeta grunted at her, seemingly annoyed that he needed to clarify. "The Frieza Force main space station. I went there to recover before coming here."

Frieza Force... She didn't know what that was, but judging by the title, it didn't take a genius to guess that Frieza was in charge of it. Bulma chewed the inside of her cheek as she began connecting dots. "So, do you work for Frieza, then? Is he the one you sell planets for?"

Vegeta gave her a grunt of affirmation.

That explained why he and Frieza's men all wore the same armor. It also explained why they had seen two of the same space pod shooting down from the sky when they had first arrived to Namek. That space pod wasn't a Saiyan ship. It must have been some model of ship used by all of Frieza's men. But were the armed men they kept running into soldiers, then? Or employees? That part still confused her. And, if Vegeta was working for Frieza, why did he keep talking about how he was going to kill him? Was this some sort of mutiny, then? Bah, it was all so puzzling, but Bulma doubted Vegeta would have the desire or patience to explain all the details right now.

She knew very little about this Frieza, but there were a few things she could deduce already. He was powerful, he had status, he was evil, and he was feared. It sounded like he was the one running this whole intergalactic planet-selling franchise (or at least some significant part of it), and he had enough influence that all these armed men were deathly afraid of him. Krillin and Gohan had said that his power level was the highest they had ever sensed, and he seemed to make even the mighty Vegeta nervous - which, in and of itself, was disconcerting, to say the least. And clearly, he was evil... There was no other way to describe someone who could so heartlessly have an entire planet destroyed just to make a profit.

What was curious was how much Vegeta clearly hated this Frieza guy. Maybe it was just envy or rivalry, but it seemed like more than that. The hatred felt deep, rooted like a tree. It seemed personal. It was evident in the Saiyan's body language; the way he practically hissed the foreign name through gritted teeth, or the way his muscles tensed ever so slightly when he talked about him. This guy had some visceral effect on him.

Something stirred her intuition then, like a rap at the door. Bulma realized she recognized that hatred. She had seen it before, and recently.

"Raditz told us that it was a comet that destroyed your planet... Is that true..." Vegeta said nothing. "...Or did Frieza destroy it?"

That did it. Intuition was never wrong. The Saiyan looked at her, utterly flabbergasted. "H-How did you know that?"

"I'm a genius, remember?" she said, half-jokingly, before realizing that the joke was most definitely in bad taste given the subject of the conversation. Vegeta didn't seem to notice, though; he was too shocked. She went on to elaborate. "We... met some kids in outer space on our way here who tried to kill us because they thought we were working for Frieza. Turns out, he destroyed their planet." She paused, trying to figure out how to word the next part without making herself seem crazy. "The way they talked about him... I dunno, it just... it reminds me of the way you talk about him. You clearly despise the guy, so I kind of just assumed you might hate him for the same reason they did. Call it a lucky guess, if you want."

A short, but incredibly heavy silence descended on them. The air had shifted almost tangibly. Bulma inhaled sharply. "So, he did... destroy your planet..."

Vegeta was silent for a few moments. For the first time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something she couldn't quite identify. Then he spoke. "Yes." His jaw clenched and he stared off at something far away, his muscles tensing beneath his tattered blue bodysuit. "I didn't find out until I came here to Namek. Though, I suppose I suspected it from the beginning."

"Why?" she breathed. "Why did he do it?"

She could see he was grinding his teeth. "He was afraid of us," he replied. "Frieza is extremely powerful, but he's nothing but a coward. He was stronger than any living Saiyan, but was afraid of the collective strength of our race. Feared that we would one day rebel and overthrow him. So he wiped us out."

Bulma sighed shakily, absorbing this information. So, the bastard had destroyed Vegeta's planet, then lied about it. What an unbelievable dickhead. Like, yeah, Vegeta destroys planets, too, but I feel like he would at least have been honest about it if the tables were reversed. Bulma shook her head, dispelling the weird thought she'd just had in Vegeta's defense.

She hesitated before speaking again, unsure if she should ask... but then realized she was too invested now; she needed to know.

"But, Vegeta. You said you suspected he'd been the one all along...If that's so, why would you agree to work for the person who wiped out your entire race and planet?"

"Hmph, it wasn't my choice," he answered quickly. "He and my father struck an accord a long time ago and I was sold into his service."

Bulma's eyes grew wide. "You were... sold?" Like... like a slave?

"It doesn't matter now. I was a boy; I barely remember it."

He said it as if to curb any sympathy from her. But her eyes only grew wider. He was only a boy… when he was sold? Like a slave?

Her mind was spinning. She had so many questions. After a minute she chose one at random.

"If he was so afraid of the Saiyans that he felt he needed to kill all of them… Why did he keep you alive?"

There was a silence. Vegeta seemed to be thinking of how to answer. "Nappa, Raditz and I proved to be valuable assets over the years," he said finally. "We made him extremely profitable, so he kept us around." His explanation ended there, but it almost seemed as if his thoughts continued where his words ended, as though lost in horrors of things unsaid.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, the softness in her own voice surprising her. She never thought she would speak Vegeta's name with anything but malice, or fear, or anger. But her heart ached all of sudden. And it ached for him. By no means did she forgive him for anything - of course not. But.. that didn't mean she couldn't feel a little bad for the guy, right?

Her feelings of sympathy must have translated to her face, because Vegeta looked to her suddenly and grimaced. "Stop that!" he ordered sharply, then turned away, arms crossed. "Stop looking at me like that - like a fucking puppy died. Like I said, none of it matters now. Planet Vegeta is gone forever. And I don't care. All I care about it making my wish and making Frieza suffer. He will be begging me for death when I'm through with him." His eyes darted to her again, startling her. "Are we done here now? I was actually enjoying the silence before you felt the need to make my ears bleed with your insufferable voice."

The slight went straight over Bulma's head. She was too wrapped up in the bombshell of information she'd just learned. She nodded and turned away, lost in thought.

This was... a lot to absorb. Sold to a psychopathic tyrant when he was just a child? The same tyrant who blew up his home and people? And sold by his father no less? She was no psychiatrist but it didn't take one to recognize that those kind of traumatic events were bound to have some long-lasting and devastating effects on a person's psyche.

Worn out, Bulma lay down on her side. She was crashing from the adrenaline. It would take some time to process all of this, and she didn't have the energy right now. Instead, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, somehow finding that this time - despite the horrific events she'd just seen - she was not quite as afraid of Vegeta.

A/N: Thanks for reading, and happy President's Day everyone! I'll be working on the next chap :)