Credit where Credit is due:
Many thanks to MegaKat for giving me kind permission to use her Saiyan language throughout this story.

Phrases and words used in this chapter:
ja'ta - father
ji'ta ch - fighting team/family
tapa - general swear word
ve'ho - prince

He was home, he was safe, and his belly was full. So ... why couldn't he sleep? Vegeta shifted again, unable to relax. Every time he finally managed to doze off, the nightmares raged and he woke in a cold sweat, shaking and disoriented and ready to fight, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in fear. After the fifth time, he gave up and wandered around the apartment and tried not to wake the other two men. He did not want their sympathy and he did not want Nappa to coddle him. Earlier in the night, his guardian had offered the last packet of medicine to help him rest, but he had refused. Perhaps that was a bad idea, he reflected, as he watched the clock tick down the latest hours of the rest cycle.

I have to talk to Frieza. I have to see his face, hear that laugh... Whenever he thought about the Ice-jin, he broke out into a cold sweat, and he felt the walls closing in. Buried alive ...

After long and lonely hours with only his thoughts, Vegeta finally decided to crawl back on the bottom bunk and shove Raditz into the corner in hopes of getting some sleep ... if he could only escape the dreams.

"Time to get up, Vegeta." Nappa's voice pulled him out of the darkness. It felt as if he had just closed his eyes. Vegeta felt groggy and exhausted, and when he stumbled into the lavatory to splash cold water on his face, he saw dark circles under his eyes like bruises.

He put on a fresh blue jumpsuit and pulled on his white boots, still not awake. His stomach was in knots, and for a few blessed moments, he existed in a kind of numb twilight - not awake or asleep, not afraid or anxious. But that ended when he looked at his tablet and saw the meeting reminder. Immediately, his stomach clenched up and bile rose in the back of his throat. His tail puffed up in response to his mood - he still could not control that automatic reaction.

After he washed his face, Vegeta sat at the table and waited for Raditz to serve his pre-breakfast. Although they ate at the mess hall three times daily, it was never enough to fuel the Prince's metabolism. While the older Saiyan ran the combs through his thick hair, Vegeta fretted in silence. He had appreciated Raditz' offer of support last night, but Raditz would not be going in front of Frieza.

"There you are, Vegeta. All groomed and fresh for your victory," Raditz said, then removed a plate from the heating element.

Vegeta grunted in response, then started into his food. He doubted that there would be any sort of victory today.

After eating, he donned his battle armor and gloves and checked his tablet again. Zarbon had a bad tendency of sneaking changes into his routine to trip him up, and he did not wish to give Frieza any more reasons to punish him. Together with the rest of his small ji'ta ch, the Prince of Saiyans rode the lift down to Mess Hall Three in hopes of an early breakfast and less drama.

The meal was uneventful: bad food, bad attitudes, and the normal smattering of taunts. Vegeta did not speak, he kept his eyes down and tried to ignore he growing anxiety. He did not even respond when Nappa cracked poorly timed jokes about some of the other soldiers, something that usually elicited a smile; Vegeta was too wrapped up in himself to notice.

"Lighten up, Vegeta," Nappa said, as they exited the hall and returned back to the residential levels to pass time until Vegeta's meeting. When the lift door slid open, Nappa and Vegeta stepped off, but Raditz remained behind.

"I'll see you later, ve'ho ... Nappa. I've got my training lesson with Master Zarbon, and then I have to help with setup."

"Assist ... Is that what he's calling it now," Nappa growled, always irritated when Zarbon came up in conversation. "When were you gonna mention that?"

Raditz grumbled low in his throat, and his voice cracked. "Nappa, it's been on your tablet for days now. I don't want to argue, okay? Hey ve'ho, good luck today. Go to your victory."

The tall adolescent gave a smile, and Vegeta curled one lip to hide his automatic response. Raditz sometimes showed too much concern in public, and it embarrassed the Prince.

"Well, anyways, I ought to be back for dinner," Raditz waved one hand in farewell, then pressed the main floor before Nappa could launch into another rant about the blue dandy. The big warrior snorted in derision as the doors slid shut.

"Damn that Twinkletoes," he sighed, and Vegeta gave a snort of amusement.

An hour remained until the meeting with Frieza, so he and Nappa returned to the flat to while away the time. Vegeta wished to just get it over and done with, but an early arrival at Headquarters would not earn them any favors, not would it advance the meeting. Too much time: time to grow more nervous, more panicked ... but not enough time to take out his stresses in the training halls, something Vegeta did when he needed to blow off steam and take his mind off of his problems. Stymied, Vegeta was forced to wait, to show patience - things he was terrible at even when not under pressure.

As the time to depart drew near, Vegeta fiddled with his armor, his hair, and grew angry, his default emotion. This is humiliating. I'm a warrior, m'eh f'ri fri'va. Am I going to spend the rest of my life like this, always scared? Then he thought about taking all the fear, all the stress and throwing it inside the vault in his mind with all the other dangerous thoughts, to step aside. It seemed to work before.

Does it really, a voice whispered. You don't know what's in there, do you? There are things in there you wouldn't believe, in the dark, inside your mind...

Vegeta shook his head in a violent arc, as if he could physically dislodge the thoughts and fears. He crossed his arms over his white chestplate and unconsciously hugged himself as he paced around the apartment again and again. With each lap, his anxiety grew. His stomach cramped and he worried that he would throw up his breakfast.

"Ve'ho m'yo - enough now. You're making me nervous," Nappa's raspy voice broke through his fugue, and he pulled out one of the chairs next to him, and indicated that Vegeta should have a seat. "It's time to focus and calm, okay? You're not doing this alone. I'm going in that meeting with you; I don't care what they say. Not after that last damn time. I'm your bodyguard, and your guardian, and I have the right. They'll have to drag me out before I let it happen again."

At his guardian's show of support, a tiny smile crept over Vegeta's drawn features. He hated to need the help, but Nappa made it sound as if he were only fulfilling his duties to his Prince, and not babysitting a scared kit.

"Tch. I've given dozens of reports before," he protested, and continued his jittery pacing.

"I should be able to do this," he protested, and continued his pacing. "I've given dozens of reports before."

Nappa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, his muscled shoulders heaved. Vegeta's nervousness was starting to affect them both, and they had to be calm ... or at least able to put on a good show. The oldest Saiyan drummed a rhythm on the tabletop, then shook his head and stood.

"We're a team, Vegeta. I know we've talked about this before. None of us are born seasoned fighters. The idea of a ji'ta ch is so no one warrior has to battle alone. We Saiyans work in squads for a reason: we're strongest in a group. Let us help you. There's no shame in it. Okay?" He held out one giant hand, and extended it towards Vegeta.

Caught off guard by the show of support and the appeal to his warrior nature, Vegeta stopped his pacing. He fidgeted in place and stared at the proffered limb. His brow furled and his eyes grew dark as he battled his pride, but then he reached out one small hand in return.

"All right, ve'ho." Nappa gave one of his goofy smiles, it deepened the lines on his forehead and the creases between his brows. "Well, no sense in standing around. Let's get going. If we're early, we'll just wander around the courtyard. Now, I've got the last dose of medicine if you need it. But I'm sure you won't." He winked at Vegeta, and patted his left breastplate.

"Okay, Nappa." For some reason, Vegeta did not feel placated. Just knowing that they were doing something, even if it was pointless, helped to improve his mood. He gathered a few chosen items from his spoils to offer up as sacrifices to appease Lord Frieza, and placed them in a cloth bag while Nappa hid the crystals and the tablet in a small panel behind the toilet.

Usually, Vegeta went to Frieza's luxury penthouse to give his comprehensive reports. For some reason, today's meeting was scheduled in the tyrant's office at Main Headquarters in the Administration Dome, a fifteen minute ride by tram. The Admin-Dom contained many important buildings, such as Medical, Administration, Mission Central, and the Training Halls.

The ride seemed to last for an eternity to the anxious young Saiyan and only served to make him more anxious. As he watched the smooth walls of the connective tunnel pass by, he fretted. Perhaps he should take Nappa on his offer, and take the medicine ... but he did not want to have to constantly take a pill or powder in order to survive. It was weak ... what would his ja'ta think ... would he be ashamed too?

He drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Vegeta focused on his breathing and started to go over what he would say: step by step, word by word, creating his report just for Frieza.

The report ... Vegeta moaned in despair and earned a concerned look from Nappa. How could he have been so stupid? There was not enough time to do it now ...

"Oh tapa - I completely forgot to do my summary! Zarbon said there wasn't enough detail, and I had to redo it. I don't have enough time now, and Frieza's going to want to read it. I'm dead, Nappa." Images of the punishment awaiting him for such a colossal failure drifted past his mind's eye.

Nappa groaned, ran his hands through his hair and looked down at the Prince. He chose not to mention the swear word. "Are you kidding me, Vegeta? I've been telling you that you needed to start writing those summaries yourself for just this reason."

"I know that," Vegeta wailed, and started to hyperventilate.

Nappa placed one large hand between his shoulder blades, a simple gesture that served to center the Prince's attention and draw his focus outward. "Okay, Vegeta, calm down. Do your breathing."

Luckily, they were the only people on the tram from Residential, so no one observed his shame. When they arrived at their destination, Vegeta had his obvious emotions under control. He toyed with the idea of writing up the summary before going into Headquarters; bur that would have made them late, and Frieza did not accept tardiness. The last time that Vegeta was five minutes late for a meeting, he and the rest of the Saiyans had paid for it: their rations were cut to once a day and their workload tripled for a week. Vegeta still remembered with clarity the pangs of hunger that he had suffered; and the knowledge that Raditz and Nappa had also paid the price.

No, he would be on time. He couldn't afford not to be.

A/N: Apologies for the short chapter. Next one will be longer ... I promise! As always, thanks for taking the time to read and review. A special thanks to those who take the time to do so every chapter ;)

Vegebulluv: Thanks, glad you're liking the story, and that you find the relationship between the three to be real. Raditz is the only person who Vegeta will talk to like that, and it's sad how they eventually grow apart.

Fangurlsrule: You hit the nail on the head, and it's sad that Vegeta is becoming so distant from the people who obviously have his best interests in mind, all thanks to Frieza.

Verimol: You always leave such detailed reviews, thank you! Yes, the crystals are a bit of a mystery, and their secrets won't be easily determined. There is indeed more to be found on the tablet, you're right about that. Ah, that Frieza, always keeping our poor Prince on his toes... Radditz has a unique rapport with Vegeta, and I'm glad you found their conversation touching. Vegeta was an entirely different child before Frieza got his claws into him.