Resume Life
Bulma pushed her way through the crowd of people milling about the indoor garden. Half of them were borderline drunk and weaved back and forth as they walked. She heard loud bursts of laughter and the scent of champagne was thick in the air. She was tempted to grab a flute of the golden, bubbly drink herself, but she knew better. She was only ten years old, and no matter how unhappy she was it was inappropriate for her to drink alcohol. She found a secluded area and leaned against one of the larger trees, not caring how the rough bark dug into her back and snagged on her organza dress.
"I hate these stupid parties," she hissed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. It was her parents' New Year's party. She attended every year even though there was never anyone around her age present. Instead she was surrounded by her parents' friends and employees, all of whom talked down to her or gave a condescending pat on the head as if she were nothing more than a pet. How easy it was for them to forget she was their intellectual superior.
Mrs. Brief waltzed into the clearing balancing a tray of hors d'oeuvres on one hand. "There you are, honey. I was wondering if you would help me out in the kitchen?"
"Sure, Mom."
Bulma followed her mother out of the garden and through the halls to the kitchen. Once the door was closed, Mrs. Brief set her tray on the counter and knelt down in front of Bulma. She put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and her smiled slipped from her face. "How are you doing, sweetie?"
There was no scent of champagne on her breath, unlike everyone else at the party. Bulma sighed and turned her head. She didn't want to talk. "I'm fine."
"I know that's not true. You're still missing Vegeta, aren't you?"
The blue-haired girl ground her teeth and her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Do you expect me not to miss him? He was my only friend!"
"I know, Bulma, but he wouldn't want you to brood like this. I miss him, too. I feel like I lost a son, but we have to accept the fact that he's gone."
"I can't!" Bulma shouted. She pulled away from her mother and ran out of the kitchen. She hurried upstairs to her bedroom and threw herself on her bed. She couldn't stop the tears from coming. She felt like she had done nothing but cry for the past three months. She heard the light footsteps of her mother on the stairs and groaned. She just wanted to be left alone. She rolled onto her stomach and beat the mattress with her fists.
Mrs. Brief knocked on Bulma's door. She opened it and went inside even though she got no invitation in and went over to Bulma. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gently ran her fingers through Bulma's long hair. She felt the bed shaking and knew her daughter was crying again. She sighed. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I can't ask you to stop missing him. I can't either," she admitted.
Bulma's voice was muffled by her pillow when she answered, "He promised he'd come back, Mom. So where is he? It's been months."
Mrs. Brief had no answer. She rubbed Bulma's back. "You have to trust him, Bulma. If he said he'll be back, he will. You have to be patient."
"How can I be patient when I'm so miserable?" Bulma was, perhaps, being a bit melodramatic, but it was true that school had regressed to the way it was before Vegeta came. Kids were bullying her and she rarely made it to school on time. She had detentions more often than not. Though she knew the material well in all her classes, her grades were slipping. She was too depressed to finish or turn in assignments. She could sense her parents' concern and disappointment, which made her feel guilty on top of everything else. She had exiled herself to self-imposed isolation since Vegeta left. She didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. She was lonely and hurting.
"I understand, honey. I just want you to be happy though." Mrs. Brief, already heartbroken by Vegeta's absence, was further torn apart when she saw her daughter's grief. The worst part was knowing she couldn't do anything to help. She would do anything in her power to bring Vegeta back if she could. She wanted Vegeta to be safe, she wanted her daughter to be happy again, and she wanted the boy back for her own sake. She missed him as desperately as Bulma did. She tried to hide it and tried not to think about it, but when he left he took a piece of her heart with him. She had lost the only son she would ever have.
Bulma shook her head. "I'll be happy when Vegeta comes back." She reached over to her bedside table and grabbed a box of tissues. She blew her nose and carelessly tossed the wadded up tissue on the floor. There was already a small pile of them next to her bed. Her trash can was overflowing anyway. Her nose was red and chapped, making her look like she had a cold when in reality she spent much of her time wiping her nose because she was crying. Often she would break down in sobs that made it hard to breathe when she was out of tears to cry.
Mrs. Brief didn't know what to say. She couldn't guarantee Vegeta would be back anytime soon and she couldn't say anything to comfort her daughter. She felt helpless, and that only made her own sadness deepen. She wanted so much for them to be a happy family again, all four of them. She wanted Vegeta home, safe and sound, but she had no idea where he had gone, who he was going to see, how long it would take to get there, and how long it would take to return. He made it a point to keep everything a secret, and no matter how hard she and her husband and daughter tried to pull information out of him, he held onto it with an iron grip to keep them from learning much about him and his past.
"I'm going to go back to the party," she finally said. "I'll leave you be."
Bulma didn't say anything. She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose again before burying her face in her pillow. Mrs. Brief watched her with pity before turning and leaving her room. She plastered on a smile, not quite as genuine as usual, and went downstairs to the indoor garden. Whether or not she was hurting inside, she had to be a good hostess and make sure all her guests were comfortable and happy. She didn't want to leave her daughter to wallow in her depression alone, but she knew when it was better to give her space.
Bulma spent the rest of the night in her room. She didn't want to go down and mingle with a bunch of old drunkards. She could hardly stand them when they still had the power of reason. It was a long while after her mother left before she sat up in bed and looked across the room at her mirror. She had become quite used to her own disheveled appearance. Face blotchy and tear-streaked, her nose dripping, hair mussed, and bags under her eyes, it was the norm as of late. She didn't sleep well, often waking up with either a nightmare or from a dream where Vegeta came back. In her excitement she would jolt awake and have trouble going to sleep again, often breaking down when she remembered he was still gone.
"I'm a mess," she told herself. She stood up and took her dress off and discarded it in her dirty laundry. Bulma went into her bathroom and filled the bathtub with hot water before stepping into it. The water burned her pale skin, but she paid it no mind as she immersed herself in it. The simple pleasure of a hot bath was sometimes enough to help her escape from her cyclical thoughts. Sometimes.
When the water started to turn cold, Bulma got out of the bath and drained the water. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled slightly when she saw she looked a little older now. Her baby fat was giving way to lean muscle. She hadn't given up on her training after Vegeta left. She figured she would keep it up so that when he did return she could rip him a new one for putting her through so much emotional turmoil. Besides, she really had learned to like it. She felt powerful when she learned new fighting techniques. She was still a little girl, easily overpowered by any adult, but she would go down fighting if anyone were to ever attack her again. Vegeta was right. He wouldn't always be there to protect her so she needed to learn to defend herself.
She wrapped a towel around herself and combed her wet tangles. Her bright blue hair, now dark after her bath, stuck to her back and shoulders. She could feel rivulets of water trickling down her spine until they reached the towel, making her shiver. She wrung her hair out in the sink and threw it over her shoulder.
"I miss you, you stupid boy," she sighed. She slowly shook her head and turned the faucet on to brush her teeth. It wasn't as if Vegeta could hear her. Knowing him, he wouldn't even care. He probably never even thought about her. He probably lied when he promised to return some day. By now she was little more than a distant memory, easily brushed aside.
Bulma wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave herself one more once-over in the mirror before going into her room. She pulled on a long nightshirt and wrapped her hair in her towel. She could hear the sounds of the party still going in the garden; music was playing and there wasconversation and laughter. She was tired. It was New Year's Eve, but she didn't care to stay awake long enough to welcome in the new year. That would mean saying goodbye to the past year. Goodbye to everything that happened. Goodbye to her memories of Vegeta. She didn't want to leave him behind. She very much wanted to believe he would play a lead role in her future.
"Mom was right, I guess. He wouldn't want me to be so emotional over him. But I can't help it! I've tried to get over it, but I can't. He's gone and I'm afraid he's never coming back. Why did he have to go? For that matter, where did he go? He never said where he was from!" Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and sat at the foot of her bed. If she knew where he was she would go after him. Hunt him down and drag him to Capsule Corporation by force if she had to. Not that she could, but it didn't matter how realistic it was since she had no way of finding him anyway.
She lied back and stared at the ceiling. There was only the dim light from the city streaming in her balcony doors, made brighter as it reflected off the thin layer of snow coating the world.
"I wish I never met him." Saying it never made her believe it. She had told herself hundreds of times over the past three months that she wished she hadn't met him. If she hadn't, then she wouldn't feel so hurt because he wasn't around anymore. She wouldn't know the pain of losing her one, true friend because she never would have had one. Of course it hurt to be alone, but at least before Vegeta walked into her life she didn't really know what she was missing. Now it was all she could think about. He was constantly on her mind.
Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was only fifteen minutes until the new year was ushered in with music and celebration. She turned back to the ceiling and sighed. Maybe if she put him in her past she could forget about him and stop hurting. Then she wouldn't care if he never came back. It was so much easier said than done, though. How could she just forget someone who she had grown to care for so deeply? He was more than a friend to her. He was like a brother. She loved him. She missed him more than she could put into words.
When she heard a collective shout of "Happy New Year!" downstairs she crawled under the covers of her bed and buried her face in her pillow. She didn't want it to come. She didn't want the old to go. She wanted her friend. She wanted her pain to go away. She wanted to at least know he was ok wherever he was.
"Why couldn't he at least send a letter or something?" she mumbled. She pulled her covers up over her head to block out the light. Tired as she was, it still took her a long time to go to sleep that night.
Vegeta woke with a start when he heard the computerized voice telling him he had two minutes until landfall. He yawned, deeply inhaling the live-giving oxygen pouring into the space pod. The haze in his mind cleared as the last of the stasis gas was removed from his body. He raked his fingers through his hair before leaning forward in the seat to catch a glimpse of the base planet he was heading toward. It was only a tiny speck of light in the vast emptiness of space, but it was rapidly growing as his pod approached. Before long the speck was all he could see, a large planet the color of a dark eggplant. It was like a jewel floating in the vacuum of space. No wonder the lizard claimed it as his own. He loved purple.
When his pod entered the planet's atmosphere, he was jostled in his seat as the retrograde rockets fired up to slow the descent. He braced himself for impact as the final countdown to landing flashed across the screen above the keypad. The sickening lurch of the freefall told him it was only seconds until landing. He gripped his knees with his hands, his fingers digging into his skin.
The space pod fell onto a cushiony landing pad and bounced once before coming to a stop. A team of soldiers ran out to welcome the prince. They stood at attention as the hatch slowly lowered and a young boy with a black flame of hair and a brown tail wrapped around his waist stepped out and walked toward them. The men did not let his diminutive appearance fool them. He was already one of the most powerful warriors in Frieza's army, and their scouters read a power level stable at 10,000. He was definitely a formidable adversary, so they were sure to be respectful as to avoid making any perceived slight against him. He was not only known for his strength, but his volatility. He was quick to kill and ask questions later. More importantly, Frieza seemed to find more humor in his murderous ways than any need for discipline.
"What are you gawking at?" Vegeta barked when he saw the soldiers watching him warily. They stumbled away from him, muttering apologies as he stalked past them, obviously in a sour mood. Then again, he wasn't known for his good moods, especially when he had just woken from stasis.
"What's his problem?" asked one of the lower-ranking soldiers once he passed by, thinking he was out of the saiyan's hearing range. He was instantly blasted into another dimension. The other soldiers gulped when they saw the smoking remains of their former comrade.
Vegeta turned to the side, enough for them to see his angular profile. "Does anyone else have any questions?"
The saiyan prince was almost disappointed when the rest of the soldiers shook their heads. It felt good to kill again, even if it was only one lowly soldier, most likely a new 'recruit,' who didn't know better than to test his patience. He sneered at them and continued on his way from the landing pad. He wanted a new pod made ready as soon as possible and he needed to get in contact with Frieza's ship. It wouldn't hurt to have a meal at the mess hall as well, assuming there was anything edible there. He could eat most foods, but some things the creatures of different worlds ate could hardly be considered food. Stewed minerals, what was that about?
Everywhere he went there was a commotion left in his stead. He never raised his hand against anyone after his first kill, but the soldiers at the base were afraid of him. His reputation preceded him. Everyone in Frieza's army knew of Prince Vegeta. Most soldiers were at least twice his age and half his power, if that. No one wanted to make an enemy of him. Not that they didn't hate him. They resented him for his incredible strength and the fact that he was not only a saiyan, but the saiyan prince. Most of all, though, they hated him because of Frieza's favoritism. It was no secret that Frieza gave him special privileges. He was always given the best purge missions, his own quarters on Frieza's ship, unlimited access to healing tanks, personal training sessions with Frieza himself, and the newest model scouter, space pod, and armor. For being nothing more than a soldier, he was pampered.
Of course no one but the men on Frieza's ship knew what life was really like for the young prince. They didn't know the extent of his humiliation, the beatings he was given for no reason, the type of 'training' he received, or the unmentionable abuse he sufferedin Frieza's personal chambers. They didn't know how he was starved before being sent on the most difficult purges. All of that information was purposely kept to the ship. Frieza wanted his army to hate the saiyan prince. He was afraid that if Vegeta were respected for surviving what he did, he might have mutiny on his hands. It wasn't that he didn't have the strength to put down any rebellion, but he had already spent so much time building his army it would be a shame to have to kill all his soldiers – and his pet.
Vegeta kicked down the door to the control tower and strode in proudly with arms crossed and chin held high in smirked when he saw the technicians inside scrambling to their feet to see what was going on. The director of operations managed to regain some order before hesitantly walking over to where Vegeta stood. He was an old creature, more birdlike than anything. He was the only one in the room who seemed at all able to hide his fear of the young soldier.
"Prince Vegeta," he said, bowing his feathered head respectfully, "I am glad to see you have arrived safely."
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I require a new space pod fully fueled. I need to reach Frieza as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir, we will have our newest model of space pod prepared at once." He turned to the nearest technician and shouted, "Contact hangar 12 and ready pod D0042 for lift-off within the hour!"
While the technician made the call, Vegeta took a few steps further into the control room. He chuckled when the nearest operators shied away from him. None of them dared turn their back on him for fear he would slaughter them without reason. "I would also like some new armor."
"You would have to contact the weaponry division for that, Prince Vegeta."
"Hn. Let me know as soon as the pod is on the launch pad. Send a message to Lord Frieza that I am on my way." Orders given, Vegeta left the room and ran through the halls to the adjoining building where weapons and armor were distributed. His armor still fit well; it was stretchy enough to fit him as an oozaru, but his bodysuit was ragged from his training. He refused to look like a commoner when he stood before Frieza. Besides, the armor he was wearing was deeply ingrained with the scents of his pack members. No matter how many times he washed it and soaked it in blood, he would always smell them through it all. He couldn't let himself be distracted by memories of them. He had to put them in the past where they belonged. He made an empty promise to the girl. He never seriously intended to return to the brat's planet. In order to do that he would have to first defeat Frieza. Realistically, that would never happen. He would never go back. He had to cut the strings of attachment immediately lest they get him into trouble when he made it to Frieza. He could not afford to have the lizard manipulate him in yet another way.
He stormed into the weaponry and armor building and scanned the area for some personnel who could help him find what he needed right away. He snorted when no one came into view. Probably everyone was hiding in the barracks until they heard the news that he had departed. He sighed and started searching through the assortment of bodysuits until he found one the color he wanted in a size that would fit well without being stretched. He tossed his find over his shoulder and began going through the closets stocked with breastplates. There were different styles designed for different body types, but most of them were the kind he wore with large shoulder pads and flaps that extended below his waist on the sides and in front of his groin for added protection. He thought they looked kind of tacky, but that was what was available. Anyway, he wasn't entering a fashion contest. He was going for armor that was practical, not stylish.
Vegeta pulled on his new bodysuit, the same royal blue as his old one. The sleeves and legs were a bit too long, but he would grow into it. He yanked his new breastplate on over his head and tested his range of motion, making sure it was not compromised in any way. Satisfied, he stepped into his boots and put his gloves on. He looked himself over and shrugged. His armor was an exact replica of what he always wore. Aside from growing a few inches during his stay on Earth, he was essentially the same as before.
"Prince Vegeta, do you read?"
Vegeta pushed the button on his scouter to reply. "Go ahead."
"Your new space pod is prepared. Report to launch pad 20 when you're ready for departure."
"Copy." Vegeta sighed. He had hoped to eat something, but there was no sense in delaying his leave. The sooner he left the sooner he would reach Frieza's ship. His stomach growled its protest as he took a left toward the launch pads rather than a right to the mess hall. He ignored it.
A few minutes later Vegeta stood in front of his new space pod. It looked exactly like the older models, but it was capable of even greater speeds and used fuel more efficiently so it didn't need to be refueled as often, making long trips shorter with fewer pit stops. The director of operations stood nearby, personally seeing the saiyan off, either because of his respect for the high-ranking soldier or because no one else wanted to come within fifty yards of the prince.
"How long will it take to arrive at Frieza's home base?" Vegeta asked as he examined the exterior of the pod. His hand slid across the smooth, rounded surface as he walked around it. There were no dimples in its surface from striking space debris. It was brand new. He was wary about taking a space pod on its maiden voyage. It was not unheard of for them to malfunction on their first trip without sound reason. Still, this was the fastest pod at the base and he would use it to reach Frieza as soon as possible.
"Approximately six absmonths, sir."
"Very well. Your men have contacted the retrieval squad?"
"Yes, sir. They have been redirected to the nearest base for further instruction."
"Good." Vegeta stepped into the space pod and sat down. The coordinates had already been entered into the pod's system. He closed the hatch and crossed his arms over his chest. He heard the boosters powering up and took a deep breath as the countdown to liftoff began. He would go into stasis for the trip, and when he woke up he would be back in the lizard's icy clutches. He shuddered and shook his head. He would not be afraid. He had to stay strong.
"Pod launching in ten, nine, eight…"
As the computerized voice counted down the time to launch, Vegeta saw the men on the launch pad stepping back to a safe distance from the pod. They saluted him as the countdown continued. Fools. He knew the respect they showed him was purely for self-preservation. At least they knew better than to cross him. He felt bloodlust. He wanted to end their pitiful lives for no other reason than their cowardice. How easy it was for him to slip into his old way of life.
"Seven, six, five…"
The pod shook as the boosters reached full power. He always hated the anticipation of lifting off. It made him anxious. He was already having second thoughts about going, at least right away. This time he had no doubt about what to expect. Frieza was probably furious with him for being gone so long. He had already been gone for 10 absmonths, and it would be another six before he made it to the base planet. 'Come on, damnit, hurry the hell up!'
"Four, three, two, one. Liftoff."
Vegeta's pod shot into the air, winking out of sight in mere seconds. The soldiers at the base breathed a sigh of relief as the saiyan left. Everyone had heard about his arrival, and most made sure to stay out of the way during his short stay. With him gone, they were safe to wander the halls of the base without fear of bumping into him, angering him, and being sent to the next dimension.
When the pressure lessened as the pod reached its maximum speed, Vegeta breathed deeply and rested his head against the seat. He pushed the button to enter stasis mode and closed his eyes. The last thoughts he had before drifting into his artificially induced slumber were of one blue-haired girl living on a backwater planet on the edge of the galaxy light-years away. He wondered how she was coping with his absence. He figured she had already forgotten about him. With that thought in mind, he lost consciousness and entered the long, dreamless sleep of stasis.
Frieza grinned as the two large saiyans knelt before him. He hopped out of his throne and circled around Nappa and Raditz. "I have some news, monkeys. Would you like to hear it?"
Nappa swallowed hard. News was almost never good. Especially not since Vegeta had crash-landed on a faraway little mudball. "Yes, Lord Frieza," he said.
The tyrant grinned wider and came to a stop in front of the saiyans. He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have word that your prince is on his way back. My men on base planet 257 informed me that Vegeta arrived an hour ago and has already left to come to me. Now tell me, monkeys, how it is that he miraculously found a way to repair his broken pod and make it to a planet light-years away?"
"I – I don't know, Lord," Nappa managed to say before he was kicked across the throne room. He wiped his bloody lip with the palm of his hand and sat up.
Frieza snarled at him. "I'll tell you how! You have all been lying to me!"
"But Lord Frieza, Prince Vegeta is returning. Why would we have lied if he meant to come back?" Raditz asked as respectfully as he could. He was answered with a swift kick in his chest that easily fractured his sternum.
"Are you saying I'm stupid?" Frieza yelled.
"No, Lord Frieza," Raditz groaned. It was hard to speak. Every word made him feel as though a fire was spreading through his chest.
Frieza's grin returned when he saw the saiyans' pain. They were never as amusing as Vegeta, nor as frustrating. He couldn't wait to break the Prince of all Saiyans. He was his single greatest creation. A twisted monster just like himself, a mockery of what he could have been. It sent tingles down his spine whenever he imagined Vegeta writhing in pain at his feet, silently begging for mercy even as he forced himself to remain silent and endure more for the sake of his damned pride. In a few months, he would have his favorite pet monkey back, and he would be sure to tear him to pieces. He would teach him what happened when he tried escaping his master.
"Get this scum out of here," he growled to the foot soldiers at the door. While they dragged the saiyans out of his throne room he walked over to the window behind his throne and looked out at the black expanse of space.
"Six absmonths," he said to himself, "Six absmonths and Vegeta will be mine again. I do hope he puts up a good fight when he returns. I have missed the taste of his blood." He licked his lips and cackled with cruel mirth. No one missed the saiyan prince more than he had.
Bulma sighed contentedly as she dipped her legs into the pool. She sat on the edge, enjoying the cold water and the late June sun beating on her back. She tiled her head and gazed at the blue sky. There were puffy white clouds lazily drifting by. It was a beautiful day, the first in a week. It had been raining for days, but the sun finally came out, and with it Bulma emerged from the compound to enjoy it.
"This is the best." It was summer, she was out of school, it was hot and sunny, and she had the whole day to relax in the pool. What more could she ask for? Only one thing: a friend. Specifically, a certain boy who had gone missing nine months earlier. She wouldn't let herself dwell on that though. Not today. Not when everything was so perfect.
She turned when she heard the back door of the compound slap shut. Her mother was walking toward her with a plate and a glass of pink lemonade. "Bulma, dear, would you like a little snack?"
The blue-haired girl smiled. "Sure. What do you have?"
Mrs. Brief handed the glass of lemonade to her daughter and sat down next to her. "I made lemon bars and some oatmeal raisin cookies. Take your pick."
Bulma chose one of the lemon bars and bit into it. Her mouth puckered at the deliciously sour taste. She licked the powdered sugar off her lips and fingers. "They're great. Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome, dear." Mrs. Brief smiled and nibbled on a lemon bar. She was glad to see her daughter had been cheering up over the past few weeks. She knew Bulma still missed Vegeta, but she was coming to terms with his absence. That was all she could really hope for.
Bulma kicked her legs in the water. Honestly, she was getting bored. Spending every day with no one but her parents got old after a while. "So, I was thinking, would it be possible for me to take martial arts lessons? Like, at a real dojo?"
Mrs. Brief shrugged. "I don't see why not." She still found it hard to believe how much Bulma enjoyed fighting. Bulma was originally extrinsically motivated to train for the sake of spending time with Vegeta, but over time it became a hobby of hers. It might be good for Bulma to get away from the compound, especially if she was with other kids her age.
Bulma grinned and hugged her mother. "You're the best. I want to start as soon as possible. I can only teach myself so much."
After Vegeta left, Bulma bought books on martial arts and did extensive internet research to learn new techniques, but she knew she would benefit more from lessons. What struck her as strange, though, was how she couldn't find any information about ki and some of the techniques she saw Vegeta use in his kata. She tried to mimic what she observed him doing, but she could never get it quite right, and he obviously wasn't around to correct her.
'Finally, I can get better. I haven't made any progress in too long.' Bulma drank her lemonade and jumped into the pool. Her teeth chattered as she swam around until she adjusted to the cold water.
'He has to be coming back soon. I mean, nine months? That's a long time.' Bulma flipped over and backstroked across the pool. She wondered what Vegeta was doing at that moment. She imagined him somewhere outside, enjoying the nice weather like she was. Maybe it was unrealistic, based on what she knew about him, but she had to stay positive or she would lose her mind worrying about him.
Mrs. Brief stayed by the pool, watching Bulma swim. She recognized the faraway look in her eyes and knew she was thinking about Vegeta. Poor girl, she needed more friends if she was ever going to heal. Vegeta could never be replaced, but at least Bulma would be distracted from her constant reminiscing about him.
"Your father and I were thinking we could go on a vacation in a couple weeks. Would you like that?"
Bulma gripped the edge of the pool and wiped her hair out of her eyes. "That sounds fun. Where we going?"
"We thought a tour of southern Europe would be nice."
"That would be so cool! How long?" Bulma pulled herself out of the pool and twisted her hair, wringing the excess water out.
"Oh, I'd imagine about a month. Just a short trip."
The girl laughed and grabbed her towel to dry off. Her mother would consider a month-long trip short. Most people were lucky to get a whole week for vacation. Owning the company certainly had its advantages. She sat down next to her mother and took an oatmeal cookie. "I'm totally excited. I can't wait to go!"
Mrs. Brief smiled brightly. "I'm glad. I'll tell him to go ahead and make the plans."
Bulma finished her cookie and put her feet in the cold chlorine water. Life was good. It would be better if Vegeta were with her, but she wasn't going to complain. Not anymore. She was done crying over him. She still held on to the hope that he would return, but she wasn't going to waste her whole life waiting for him. He wouldn't want her to. He would tell her to stop being so foolishly sentimental.
She giggled at that. Vegeta was a grouch, but he was a good friend. She still missed him, and probably would until the day he came back, but the ache in her heart was dulling.
"Docking sequence will commence in two minutes."
Vegeta gulped in the oxygen pouring into his space pod. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, willing the haziness and blurred vision to go away. He needed to be fully conscious and alert when he arrived. He was certain Frieza would want to see him immediately. He wasn't looking forward to it. He exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes. He was about to start his real life again.
'Whatever gods are listening, please let me survive this.' Vegeta was not one to pray under normal circumstances. He believed if there were any deities, they were using his life for their own sick amusement. But in this situation, he would take any help he could get.
"Docking sequence will commence in one minute."
Vegeta held himself steady as the pod decelerated. He didn't need the humiliation of a broken nose from being thrown forward out of his seat. He felt like his organs were being rammed against his rib cage, not an entirely pleasant sensation. His breath was forced out of his lungs. When the deceleration stopped, he gasped for air. That had to be the worst part of docking on the ship. Wait, the ship? He looked out the porthole. There, in front of him not too far away was the ship where he'd spent a good portion of his short life. Apparently while he was in stasis Frieza's technicians had changed his pod's coordinates to meet up with the ship since Frieza wasn't at his home base.
"Prince Vegeta, prepare for docking." Vegeta sighed when he heard the familiar voice of the head technician over his scouter. He didn't bother replying. A few seconds passed before he felt his pod come to a complete stop and heard the clanking of the machinery drawing his pod into the hangar of the ship.
The pod reached the hangar and stopped again. Vegeta entered the command to open the hatch on the keypad. As it lowered in what seemed like slow motion, he swallowed his anxiety. 'It's show time.'
Vegeta stepped out of his pod and crossed his arms over his chest. He scowled at his welcoming committee. It was none other than Zarbon and Dodoria. His tail tightened around his waist. Their presence was not a good sign. He briefly wondered if Dodoria had been officially promoted to Lieutenant General yet. He dismissed that thought. It didn't matter what the pink creep's rank was, he was still a disgusting pig unworthy of his respect.
Zarbon smirked. "Welcome back, monkey. Lord Frieza has ordered an audience with you at once."
"Where are Nappa and Raditz?" Vegeta demanded as he started toward the lizard's throne room.
"Awaiting your arrival. They are so eager to see their beloved prince."
Vegeta quickened his pace. If he knew Frieza, he was busy beating the saiyans senseless in his impatience. He heard Zarbon and Dodoria snickering behind him, but he ignored them. He had bigger matters on his hands. He stormed into the throne room without waiting for permission to enter. He stopped in his tracks and looked around nervously. It was so calm and quiet, something had to be wrong. There were soldiers lining the walls of the room and Frieza was sitting in his throne, facing the window. He couldn't see Raditz or Nappa anywhere. At least they weren't being tortured as he had feared.
"Ah, Vegeta, my pet," he heard Frieza's cold voice slither through the air, cutting the tension like a knife. "How long it has been since I've seen you."
The throne slowly turned. Vegeta was tempted to roll his eyes at the dramatic way the lizard was acting. Instead, he reigned in his pride and knelt down before the tyrant. "Yes, Lord Frieza."
"And where, pray tell, have you been?"
Vegeta clenched and unclenched his fists. "My pod malfunctioned on the way to planet 1084XR. I landed on a small planet about four light-years away from it. I was unable to get my pod repaired until 10 absmonths ago, Lord. I returned as soon as I could."
"Really?" Frieza asked, levitating out of his throne. "And here I thought you were running away. I thought I taught you better than that, my little monkey."
Vegeta kept his eyes locked on the floor. "No, Lord. I had no intention of desertion."
Frieza lowered himself to the floor in front of Vegeta. The saiyan could see his three-toed feet and had to stop himself from recoiling in disgust. He hated everything about the lizard. "Really? I find that hard to believe. How did you manage to repair your space pod?"
That was the question Vegeta was hoping the lizard wouldn't ask. If he answered honestly, there was the chance that Frieza would take intereste in the mudball. If he answered with a lie, he would likely be found out and then punished for his dishonesty. There was no safe way to answer. "There was primitive technology on the planet, Lord. It was adequate to get my pod in fair enough condition to make it to the nearest base planet where I exchanged it for a new pod."
"You're lying," Frieza said, deceptively calm. Vegeta gasped when he felt the lizard's cold, scaly tail wrapping around his neck and lifting him from the floor. "My men at the base informed me that the pod you arrived in was in good condition. There were no signs of it ever having sustained damage that would cause it to – what did you say? – malfunction. Now Vegeta, do tell me the truth this time."
Vegeta inhaled sharply when he felt the tail tightening, nearly cutting off his air supply. Damn it all, there was no way to avoid telling him what really happened. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stay calm. "My pod did malfunction. I tried my best to repair it, but I was unable to fix it before it was tampered with and the self-destruct mechanism was activated. About one absmonth later I found another saiyan space pod on the planet. Apparently an infant saiyan had been sent there years ago on a mission. It failed. There was no saiyan there and the natives were still alive."
"There now, was it so hard to tell the truth?" Frieza's fake smile twisted into a snarl. "You foolish monkey!" He threw his fist into Vegeta stomach. The saiyan coughed up a mouthful of blood and gasped for air. His hands instinctively went to his stomach to ease the pain.
Frieza punched Vegeta's face, busting his lip and fracturing his nose in one blow. Vegeta wheezed as the tail constricted tighter around his neck. He was choking on the blood running down his throat from his broken nose. The throne room was deathly silent aside from the gurgling noises Vegeta made as he fought to breathe. He clawed at Frieza's tail, but to no avail.
"I will teach you what happens when you try to escape!" Frieza screamed as he slammed Vegeta into the floor. The sound of bones cracking went unheard as Frieza roared in anger and threw Vegeta into the wall. The boy bounced off the freezing cold metal and landed on the floor. He curled into the fetal position and coughed violently. The soldiers around him backed away, giving their master space to work as he approached Vegeta.
Frieza tangled his cold fingers in Vegeta thick mane and lifted him to eye level. "Say you're sorry, monkey."
Vegeta shook his head. He had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't his fault that his pod malfunctioned. It wasn't his fault that he was stranded on a mudball for months. None of it was his fault. He would not apologize. He was going to be ruthlessly beaten anyway, what difference would it make? He would only lose his pride. It wouldn't save him.
"Stubborn as always, I see." Frieza clenched his free hand into a fist and drove it into Vegeta's solar plexus. Vegeta coughed again, spattering blood on his face. Frieza licked it off his lips and grinned. Yes, he had missed Vegeta very much.
"Open the door, damnit!" Nappa bellowed. The guards to Frieza's throne room were being obstinate about allowing the two saiyans inside. They were ordered to keep them out until their prince's audience was over.
The guard on the right crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the bald saiyan. "We have orders from Frieza that no one is to enter during his meeting with Vegeta. You're going to have to wait."
Nappa roared in frustration and rubbed his head. If he'd had hair he would have been ripping it out. He didn't hear Vegeta inside, but Frieza was screaming loud enough to be heard through the thick metal doors. He knew he would never hear Vegeta. He was being beaten for something that he couldn't help. The saiyan elite was going mad waiting for it to be over. How long would it last? Would Vegeta be able to survive this one? He knew he was powerless to stop the monster from hurting his prince, but it was his job to try to help. He pounded his fists against the wall and growled.
Raditz stood to the side, watching his superior throw a tantrum. They went to the throne room as soon as they got word that the prince had arrived. He wasn't at all surprised when they found they were being kept from seeing him until after his punishment. He knew as well as Nappa what was going on behind the closed doors. He could practically see the broken body of his prince being tossed around like a ragdoll, beaten, mocked, humiliated, put on display for the rest of the soldiers on the ship to laugh at. His knuckles turned white as he balled his hands into fists, restraining himself from attacking the guards. There was no way a low-class like him could take them on. Nappa might have a chance, if there was only one of them. He sighed.
Frieza cackled as Vegeta fell limply to the floor in a puddle of his own blood. "You've gotten so strong, monkey. You would be dead by now a year ago." He circled around the boy's trembling body. What a beautiful, wonderful beast he was. So strong and arrogant. He had too much pride for his own damned good, but that was what made Frieza favor him so highly. Never had he found someone so challenging to break. It had been six years since he took him into his care, yet he was still stubborn and defiant. He was a perfect specimen for him to raise in his twisted, sadistic style. He would shape him into his own likeness. He would be cold, heartless, and cruel. A true killer. A monster. And he would keep him on a leash his whole life. He was his pet, his plaything. His very own little monkey prince.
Vegeta spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm. One of his molars came out with it. He sighed when he saw the white enamel covered in gore. He would grow a new tooth, but it was a pain. His left eye was already swollen shut and his vision was blurring and fading as he hung on to consciousness. He would not succumb to the dark void of unconsciousness, not yet. His pride wouldn't allow it. He would show the lizard that he could handle his punishment. He pushed himself up to his elbows and wiped the blood dripping down his chin with the back of his hand.
He hissed in pain when he felt a ki whip lash his back, cutting through his armor and bodysuit with ease. He fell on his face and blinked away the tears stinging his eyes. The last thing he would ever do was cry. The pain was just unexpected, that was all. He felt another lash and jerked away from the source of his pain. He hated when Frieza whipped him. It was more humiliating than anything. He heard the jeers of the soldiers watching his beating as the whip rained down on his back, shredding his skin along with his armor.
He wanted it to stop. He could endure more pain than most soldiers, but it had been a long time. Over a year, actually, since he was last subjected to so much agony. He convinced himself that was the only reason he was having trouble holding in his cries of pain. He wasn't accustomed to it anymore. He'd gone soft. He grit his teeth and pounded his fist against the floor as the whip cracked down on him again.
"You're going to scream this time, monkey," Frieza promised him. "You will scream and beg me to stop before I'm through with you."
If it hadn't hurt so bad, Vegeta might have laughed. That was the same vow Frieza made every time he gave him a beating. And it never happened. He would never, never in a million years give the lizard the satisfaction of knowing he broke down his pride. He would hold on long enough to lose consciousness and then he would be dragged to the medical bay, thrown into a healing tank, and left alone for a few days until he had recovered. It was always the same routine. He would not give in.
Raditz cringed when he heard Frieza's threat. He had heard it many times before and knew from experience that Vegeta would never let it happen. He respected his prince more than anything for his ability to disobey the lizard in such a way, asserting his saiyan pride even as he was being humiliated and torn apart. Sometimes he wanted to yell at the boy to just let it go and scream so he could be spared more severe abuse, but he couldn't bring himself to humiliate not only the prince, but his entire race. He could never ask him to bow down to the lizard freak. No matter what, Frieza could not break him.
He leaned against the wall and watched warily as Nappa paced back and forth. He was worse than a caged animal. The tip of his tail was flicking erratically and his scowl deepened every minute he was kept from seeing his charge. Raditz released a breath he didn't know he was holding and rubbed his temples. He heard the lizard scream something incoherent and frowned. There was a muffled thud as something hit the doors from the inside. No doubt a saiyan body.
Nappa nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard it. He ran to the door and started pounding on it until the guards shoved him away. He stumbled backwards and slammed into the wall behind him where Raditz had been standing only a second before. The long-haired saiyan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall a safe distance away. Nappa always lost his head when Vegeta had a private 'audience' with Frieza. He wasn't exactly happy about it, but he knew there was nothing he could do, so he detached himself from it and became another silent, stoic onlooker until it came time to take the prince to the medical bay.
'Come on, kid,' he mentally urged his prince, 'You can make it through this. Hold on.'
"Lord, I don't think he'll make it through this if you keep this up," Zarbon interjected from the sidelines. He grimaced when he saw one of Vegeta's ribs protruding from his chest.
"Shut up, Zarbon! He hasn't screamed yet." Frieza was frustrated and ecstatic at the same time. He wanted to hear the monkey's scream. It was such a bloodcurdling sound, but he hadn't had the joy of listening to it since the boy was six years old. It had been far too long. Oh well, at least he had the pleasure of beating the boy without restraint. The pungent odor of his blood was thick in the air. He could practically smell death. It sent a tingling shiver running down his spine.
"He doesn't deserve this! Do you hear me Frieza? He didn't do anything!" Nappa screamed at the doors. He resumed his pacing and growled more audibly as time passed.
Vegeta panted for air and covered his head with his arms when he heard Frieza walking toward him. He could feel his life slipping away. He clung to it as best he could, but it was useless. He knew he wouldn't survive. He knew it. He never honestly expected to be able to. He choked on blood when he tried to inhale and started coughing until he was more exhausted. It wasn't fair. There was no justice in the universe. He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't break his pod to make it malfunction. He wasn't a coward and he hadn't been trying to run away. But none of that mattered.
Bulma laid her vibrantly colored beach towel out in the sand and sat down on it. Spain had to be one of the best places in the whole world. She reclined with her arms braced behind her and watched the steady waves of the ocean stretching for miles before her. The roar of the ocean and the calls of the seagulls overhead lulled her into a deep state of relaxation.
Mrs. Brief sat down on her towel next to Bulma. "Did you remember to put sunscreen on? You don't want to get sunburned."
"Already got it."
The blonde woman squirted a glob of sunscreen into her hands and started applying it to herself. Bulma's nose wrinkled when the odor of the sunscreen mixed with the fresh scent of saltwater. She doubted they even needed it anymore. They had dark tans from spending so many hours outdoors baking in the summer sun.
Dr. Brief, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of his wife, pulled a science magazine out of her oversized and overloaded beach bag and started reading. He was the most conservatively dressed in a pair of swim trunks and a sleeveless shirt. He wasn't as fond of the sun as his wife and daughter. He generally burned while they tanned. It was safer to expose as little skin as possible on extended outings.
"You know," Bulma said, "We never did get Vegeta to go to the beach."
Mrs. Brief's smile dampened for a moment. "No, he never wanted to go."
"He was missing out. We'll have to make him go when he comes back."
"Of course, honey."
Dr. Brief set his magazine aside at the mention of the missing boy. He turned his eyes to the sky, half expecting Vegeta to miraculously drop out of the sky and join them. He had his own suspicions about Vegeta's origins, but he kept them to himself. There was no sense making wild claims and having them blow up in his face later. He didn't care where Vegeta was from anyway. He just wanted him to come home. Sadly, it seemed Bulma was the only one still clinging to the hope that he would someday return. He honestly wanted to believe he would, but after ten months it was hard to keep hoping.
"What do you think he's doing right now?" Bulma wondered aloud.
"Knowing him," Dr. Brief replied, "he's busy making trouble somewhere."
The rejuvenation tank beeped, alerting the doctors that its occupant was completely healed. The fluid inside drained while doctors ran over to help the young saiyan out. They opened the door and were knocked off their feet when Vegeta flared his ki. He had spent the past two weeks in the tank after his homecoming beating. No one was more surprised that he was still alive than himself. He had several new scars to wear as medals commemorating his triumph.
"Prince Vegeta!" Nappa and Raditz shoved their way through the medical bay, pushing aside doctors and patients alike in their haste to reach their young leader.
Vegeta didn't know how to react when he saw them. He wasn't the only one with new scars. At least they were alive. That much was a relief. When they reached him he accepted the new armor Nappa handed him. He put on the royal blue bodysuit, boots, and gloves before pulling his breastplate over his head. Vegeta put on the scouter that Raditz handed him and started for the exit. He didn't say a word to anyone though the older saiyans followed him closely while a horde of doctors crowded around him, insisting he let them run various tests to be sure he was fully recovered. He ignored them all.
Vegeta strode through the ship on his way to the mess hall. His stomach was growling and he intended to fill it. As soon as he entered the mess hall, the smells of the food hit him and brought a wave of nausea with them. He wondered how he ever managed to eat anything that smelled so terrible. He chalked it up to near-starvation and dismissed the thought.
"Prince Vegeta? Are you alright?" Nappa asked when he saw the young royal hesitate and pale slightly.
The boy's brows furrowed. "I'm fine."
"That's good because Lord Frieza has ordered an audience with you immediately."
Vegeta turned to see Dodoria standing in the doorway with a stupid smirk on his fat, ugly face. He sighed and nodded. He wasn't going to get a meal any time soon, apparently. He followed the pink blob to the throne room with his underlings flanking him. He knew what to expect and he wasn't looking forward to it. After all, he had a year's worth of beatings to make up.
A/N: Unfortunately I did not have as much time as I would have liked to edit this chapter. Preparing for three weddings this summer definitely takes some of my free time. But you don't care about that. Wow, 70 reviews on the last chapter? That blows my mind. I know I asked for a lot (and I'm sorry if you think that was being a "review whore"), and you didn't disappoint. You gave me great feedback that will help as I write the following chapters. Questions will be addressed in one way or another. I think many of them have already been answered with this chapter.