Rights: All rights belong to Akira Toriyama, Toyotarou and Toei Animation

This is based on the manga cannon, so there may be some discrepancies with the anime.

WARNINGS: This story is very, very dark, with a large amount of violence, gore, and sexual references, including references to non-consensual sex.

This was it, it was the fight with Gemuse all over again. Useless, futilely struggling, imprisoned beneath a more powerful opponent. There were so many reasons why this couldn't be the way it was supposed to end. He was meant to break through his next barrier, to exceed his limits and surpass Vegeta, to prove to the universe that he was still the stronger saiyan, if not the strongest – he still needed to have a re-match with Broly. This was supposed to be his victory, his chance to demonstrate his strength and do something to be proud of.

Instead, he was facing death.

Not an atypical situation for Goku, but that wasn't to say it didn't disturb him, or cause his heart to accelerate. Death meant time trapped with King Kai (a nice person, but an outclassed trainer when compared to the angels – who would probably refuse to teach him given his spiritly status). So, really, what his future entailed was boredom and waiting for the others to collect the dragon balls, leaving him out of any adventures along the way.

And a whole host of pain as the deed was done. Something about her made him suspect it wouldn't be quick or clean.

Then there was his own failure to follow the passing of his soul into eternity. Not only in battle, but in breaking a promise to a friend.

"Wait!" Speak of the devil.

"No, Vegeta!" Goku writhed, but to no avail, "You can't fight her!"

Vegeta may have been more powerful than the prince himself expected or could control, but he still wasn't strong enough, that much was certain. Continuous use of god ki aside, Goku knew the energy he possessed, though it was greater than previously, was insufficient. And with Vegeta unable to command his power, it would only compound the issue.

Plus, he had until recently been convalescing, recovering from an enigmatic illness rather than training to push himself to further heights like Goku had.

He wasn't ready for it.

"You said you'd take one at a time. It's my turn now."

He knew the prince would intervene, but that didn't made the dread any easier to bear. Watching someone else hurt was worse for Goku than his own injuries. He heard the crunch of plants being squished under boots, noticing a pair of white ones appearing in his limited vision.

"No," he protested weakly, voice muffled by the vegetation.

"Oh, you want to play, do you?"

"I don't want to fight you, but I will to prevent another death. His or those of your hostages."

"How noble of you, and what is your name?"

"Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans."

"Huh. Quite the title there. But alright, your highness, if you're so keen to throw your life away, then be my guest. But let me just make sure my prey here doesn't interfere."

"Wai-!"

Goku felt a sharp pain in the back of his skull, and then was aware of nothing.

Goku was expecting to feel punishment for his battle upon waking, but was surprised to experience no sensation of pain as his eyelids opened easily. The sun-filled sky (literally sun-filled, since there were five of them) greeted him along with Vegeta's concerned face, covered in smears of mud with a frazzled leaf hanging precariously from his chin.

"Huh. You've got a leaf there."

Vegeta brushed where he had indicated, extricating the offending greenery, commenting, "That's the first thing you say?"

Goku sat up, marvelling at the lack of feeling in his once-throbbing spine as he observed his surroundings.

It was a wreck. Plant matter was gathered in clumps and hovering on the winds as upturned soil spoke of a brutal fight. A fire was still smouldering in one pile of foliage, while another was just a heap of charcoal. And in the midst of it all stood Merus, hands clamped tightly around the limp form of Jarrah.

She looked a mess, smeared with blood, clothing torn and ruined with fresh earth splattered over the fine material.

But.

"She doesn't look injured," Goku observed, "At least, not that much."

"I partially healed her. But not enough for her to regain consciousness."

"You're doing that to everybody, huh? This healing business."

"I soon will be. She was good practice, in more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" Goku scratched the back of his head.

"The fighting and the healing. Both helped me to control my power."

"So you managed it," Goku commented, stretching his legs out and hanging his arms over them in a casual position.

"Yes."

"What's wrong with me, then? What is it I lack?"

Vegeta frowned at him, saying "Why do you assume that, merely because I have finally surpassed you, you must lack something?"

"Well, didn't you when I was stronger than you?"

"That's entirely different!"

"How so?"

"I…" Vegeta dropped down beside him, contemplating the pair of Jarrah and Merus as they approached, "You and I are different, Kakarot. We are both saiyans, but we are from entirely disparate classes of people."

"Dispa…you've said before about classes. But does it really mean that much? How does being a member of the elite make you stronger?"

"Our system was different to on Earth. The elite were genetically enhanced, both through forced modification during periods of servitude, and through selective breeding practices. We were born to be the strongest. The fact that you, as a lower class saiyan, originally only cannon fodder or breeding material depending on the inclinations of our overlord-"

"What?"

"Read my book. Anyway, as I was saying, your kind were biologically weaker than mine. The fact that you are so powerful is nothing short of a miracle, and I still cannot understand it. Perhaps you are a throwback to a disinherited scion."

"…huh?"

"Never mind. The point is, by all logic, I ought to be the superior warrior. You are a walking exception, and it vexed me no end. I had been raised to believe myself the strongest, raised against the unattainable expectations of my father. Whereas you, you haven't had that instilled in you. It was always a battle to break your own limits, not grow more powerful than someone else."

"Who was it before me, then?" Goku asked, wondering how long Vegeta had held this need for supremacy.

"Frieza."

"No, with your father. Who was it you had to grow more powerful than?"

"Apparently himself, since he wanted me strong enough to defeat Frieza and liberate his people. When I was older I gathered from the whispered conversations that he was disappointed in me because another child had been born stronger. I am not sure when that child was born but…I think it may have been Broly."

"Oh. That's rough. Me, I never had that kind of expectation."

His trainers and mentors had always instilled in him the anticipation of stronger opponents, and the drive to surpass himself.

"No, so you should not feel as I did. If I am stronger than you, then so be it, just focus on breaking your own limits. Others are more powerful than you, like Beerus and Whis, and this does not trouble you."

"Yeah, but I figured I'd get more powerful than them eventually. But if you're just going to get stronger, then I'll never catch up," Goku whined.

Vegeta frowned at him, "Sometimes I wonder if I've been a bad influence on you. But take this from me, you don't want to wallow in that kind of disappointment. Don't break yourself trying to better another person. Don't let that effort consume you, it will only end in tears. Trust me on this, you don't want that kind of existence."

"Are you ready to leave?" Merus interrupted them, standing over their seated forms with his unconscious captive.

"Where to?" Vegeta asked, climbing to his feet as Goku did the same.

"I thought I would deposit her with the galactic patrol."

"Because their prison is so secure…" Vegeta mumbled in a voice still loud enough for both of his companions to hear.

"You're the one who decided to spare her life," Merus deflected.

Vegeta sighed, allowing the detour, but insisting after that they return to Earth, since apparently he had a project to begin. As Goku and Vegeta grasped the angel's clothes, the latter considered the possibilities of Vegeta's unspoken venture (or perhaps he had revealed it and Goku hadn't picked up on it – that wasn't unheard of).

"What's happening?" he inquired, clinging to the angel's clothing as galaxies zipped past the corner of his eye.

"Hmm?" Vegeta asked, lights playing off his features like a projector screen, reflecting the multi-coloured stars flying by them.

"Your project," Goku elaborated, scratching his ear.

Vegeta turned away, facing forward as he considered his words.

"I am…trying something new."

"Something new, huh? What is it?" He wondered if it was a new attack – Vegeta liked coming up with those.

"I will be enlisting to heal the humans of injuries."

That was not what he had been anticipating.

"Heal them? As in, you're gonna work at the hospital or something?"

"I will not be taking payment, but yes, that is the gist of it."

"Oh. But, don't you want to train anymore?"

Goku admittedly didn't know Vegeta all that well, case and point being their earlier conversation, which revealed things hither to unknown to the other saiyan, but he did know that he valued training. Above everything else that wasn't his family. The idea that he would willingly give up precious time which could be spent improving his combat capabilities, for the sake of humans, whom he had previously considered weaklings unworthy of acknowledgement, was astonishing. Truly astonishing, and very unlike the Vegeta Goku had interacted with as sparring partner and fellow student. This was the prince who favoured training over spending time with family, having to be bullied into attending his wife's birthday party. But…he had chosen Bra's birth over his physical development...Nevertheless, this new step was completely left of field. Giving up his valuable time for humanity, when he could be spending it training?

"I will still find the time to train-"

Oh, good.

"-but not as much as I used to."

It boggled the mind, making Goku scratch his head as he tried to figure things out.

"Are you sure you're Vegeta?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then what happened to you?"

"I've just put things in perspective, that's all. If all I'll ever be is your sidekick then my focus should be on a support role."

"Vegeta, you just defeated the last two enemies we faced. Three, actually. Are you really going to throw away your lead against me?"

"Our competition is no longer important to me."

"What? Am I beneath your notice now?!"

That didn't bode well for their future clash which had been teasing Goku at the back of his mind.

"It isn't that," Vegeta quelled. "It's just…perspective, that's all."

"I'm going to get stronger then you again, just you wait."

Vegeta sighed, "Well, that was never in any doubt was it?"

But the usual bitterness in his tone was absent.

"And then we can fight! I can't wait!"

"No."

Bulma sighed into her cup of coffee as she watched the crime show before her, not really paying attention, certainly not following the story at any rate. That was probably because it was part of a series and she hadn't seen the previous episodes. But she needed something to do to keep her occupied in her vigil, waiting for Vegeta to return.

It was an old theme, and should have gotten easier over the years, but it hadn't. In earlier times it had been her friends she had lamented over, waiting, simply waiting, unable to intervene, for news of their victory or defeat. Later, it had been her lover, then her husband which had consumed most of her anxiety. She ought to have been used to it by now, the sweaty palms, the jiggling legs, the numbness in her body. She should be so accustomed to death-defying situations involving her loved ones, given how frequently they occurred, that she could focus on the television program in front of her.

It wasn't so. Her mind was drawn irretrievably to her husband, wondering where he was, what was happening, why things were taking so long to be resolved. Of course, logically she knew that the distance to this nefarious individual could be further than instant transmission would allow. Maybe they were still travelling back as she thought.

Maybe.

Bulma sighed, dropping her head back against the couch behind her, stretching her feet out. It was the waiting that was always the hardest part. The waiting, and the not knowing. Not knowing whether her husband was hurt, or even deceased, while she sat in safety and comfort in her living room. He could be suffering in the depths of Hell at that very moment, wondering why she wasn't taking action to save him. But he could also just be on his way back, and would take her concern as a lack of faith in his abilities. He had been very sensitive about such things in the past.

With these things occupying her thoughts, Bulma didn't immediately notice the arrival of visitors, until the ring of a doorbell sounded throughout the house.

There was no way it could be anyone but her husband and Goku. No one else would use the doorbell at this hour, surely. She hoped it hadn't woken the children up.

Opening the door did reveal, to her profound relief, Vegeta, Goku and a (possible) stranger, wearing angelic garb complete with a circlet and white hair. While he looked pristine, Vegeta and Goku were filthy, covered in upturned soil and foliage, clothes ripped and hanging in various places. Wrinkling her nose at the pair, she turned to the unknown figure. He seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place him.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've been introduced," Bulma hedged.

"My name is Merus. I am an angel in training," he explained, giving her a small bow.

"Oh, I see," Bulma's eyes once again found her husband and his companion, still standing out in the cold in ruined clothing and smelling like a garden, "You had better all come inside, and the two of you need to freshen up. Feel free to use the guest bathroom, Goku, we have plenty of spare towels."

Opening the door wider, she stepped back to allow the trio entrance, directing Merus to the kitchen.

"Would you like a coffee?" she offered, trailing him and taking in the lonely night sky through the open windows.

"A…coffee?" he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, it's a type of drink. It has caffeine in it, and I usually make it with sugar and milk," she thought he would know what those were, at least. Vegeta had seemed to. Some things were apparently universal.*

"It would be my pleasure to try it." He continued to loiter by the refrigerator, observing the clean table and servery and…dirty dishes in the sink. Blushing, Bulma offered him a seat, moving the highchair into a corner to make more room for the saiyans when they returned. It was never a good idea to feed Goku and Vegeta in close proximity, and she wasn't sure when either had last eaten.

Readying the coffee machine and choosing a nondescript mug, Bulma decided to get the gossip from her guest, since other interviewee options were currently unavailable.

"So, what's your story?"

"My story? Well, I was in the Galactic Patrol until recently, learning the ropes of the mortal realm, so to speak. After we failed to subdue Moro the first time, I took Goku aside and trained him for six months."

"Six months?" she frowned at him, perplexed.

"He told me he was familiar with the hyperbolic time function."

"Oh, right. Yes, of course. Do continue."

"At the end of my tutoring him, I decided to reveal the full extent of my powers, but Whis stepped in and prevented it, taking me under his wing. He brought me back to the fight against Moro, dressed as a Galactic Patrolman. I ... caused myself to be erased by setting the stage for Goku's victory. It would seem that destiny had other plans, though."

That would explain the familiarity.

"I see," Bulma handed the completed drink over to her guest, beginning another one for herself, thinking she might be needing the boost, "And can you tell me what happened out there, today? I'm looking for an objective opinion before the boys come back."

"Jarrah, that is the adversary who challenged Goku, was more powerful than I anticipated," he sighed, "As a consequence, Goku was defeated, and she was considering ending his life when Vegeta intervened. He was the one to put her down."

Bulma slopped the milk, reaching for a cleaning cloth as her mind reeled.

Vegeta.

Her Vegeta had defeated the villain.

Once was a fluke, but twice?

"Really?"

Because she couldn't hide her astonishment, her disbelief. No matter how hard Vegeta trained, no matter how much he strove he was always a step behind Goku, never the one to ultimately put an end to the threat in question, not even when he had been moments away from finally exacting his revenge on Frieza.

It had been a real pity with Moro, too. An actual strategy; she'd been so proud.

"Yes. Is that so surprising?"

"It is actually. You see, he's never pulled it off before. He's never strong enough, or the victory is stolen from him. Except with Gemuse and Eucalypt."

And this stranger had no idea how terrible that was for Vegeta's mental health, for his sense of worth. How harshly he treated himself in training, the effort he put in, the way he destroyed himself, cursing himself for his failures. She had watched him drowning under the weight of his repeated errors, his supposed weakness, his secondary status to Goku. She had seen how it had crushed him, drove him to recklessness, to insanity. And the terrible part was that he tried so hard, so much harder than Goku ever had, although she would never accuse the latter of shirking. But Vegeta was so much more driven, horrifically so. Yet it had never gotten him anywhere – always reaching forward to grasp what Goku had already surpassed. Always a step behind. Always second best.

And he had finally done it. Had really beaten the bad guy, just like he had with Gemuse and Eucalypt. And just like back then he had said nothing. He was quiet, so quiet that she had in fact forgotten his previous success. No boasts, no declarations, no arrogance or conceit.

Nothing of the sort.

That worried her, made her wonder where her prideful prince had disappeared to.

"And now to take down two in a row," she whispered, "It's…weird. After all this time, after all these years of failure. And I keep forgetting that he did defeat Gemuse and Eucalypt because he hasn't bragged about it; no, he's been completely silent on the matter."

"This is unusual?"

"Extremely. He's been on about beating Goku for nearly two decades now. It was his ultimate goal in life after Frieza was defeated. He put so much stake in it. For him to be so quiet about it now that he's finally surpassed Goku is strange. Very strange."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you there," he commented, taking a sip which he gulped loudly, blowing vigorously on the beverage.

"Careful, it's hot!" she laughed, "But are you sure you didn't notice anything?"

"How could I? I barely know him."

"Oh, right."

Soon enough the saiyans in question returned, one neatly dressed in his own clothes, the other sporting a borrowed outfit (and why Vegeta had agreed was beyond her) that was clearly too small for him.

"I don't like shirts," Goku complained, tugging at the material by the breast pocket and making Vegeta reprimand him, "But he refused to let me borrow his training gear."

"Of course I did!"

Why 'of course' Bulma wasn't certain. If there was a prohibition on the sharing of training clothes within saiyan culture, she had yet to discover it. It was probably just Vegeta being sensitive.

"Vegeta," she called, halting him on his way to the fridge, "Mum's left you a tray of sandwiches, but you'll have to share with Goku."

The prince's eye twitched as Goku leapt for joy, commenting to Merus on the culinary skills of Bulma's mother.

"Also," Bulma continued as her husband retrieved the delights from the fridge, "Merus here tells me you were to one to take down the villain."

"Yes," he sighed, depositing the tray on the table with more force than was necessary, fighting back Goku's approaching hand as he fiddled with the cling wrap, "I was the one who took down Jarrah. Everyone can faint with shock at the very idea."

"That wasn't what I meant, honey. I'm proud of you," she leant over, giving him a peck on the cheek as he became flustered from the public display, "It's just…you've finally got what you wanted in life. You've finally proven you're better than…" she looked sideways at her other guest, who seemed distracted by his quest for sustenance.

"I've done that before. I was the one who first achieved the super saiyan blue form."

"Really?" he hadn't let that one out of the bag previously.

"But he was always the stronger one when it counted," Vegeta sighed, snagging a sandwich before the lot was pilfered.

"Not anymore," she pointed out, "And I would have thought you'd be ecstatic, holding it over his head for all eternity. Not sitting back like this. What happened to the egotistical saiyan I married?"

He gave her a glare, taking a definitive bite from his sandwich as he avoided answering.

"Come on, don't give me that, you must remember what you were like. Even into the fight with Moro, from what I saw. What changed on Frieza Planet 95?"

He steadfastly failed to respond, retrieving a chicken number and practically inhaling it. He still had that solemn look to his eyes, though, the one that screamed to her that there was a story just waiting to be told, a mystery just waiting to be solved. That there was a problem which needed fixing in her husband's life, if she could just figure out how.

"I am ready," he said suddenly, confusing her at the abrupt change in conversation.

"Ready for what?"

"For starting my career as a magical healer. Kakarot was flabbergasted, and I did enjoy the look on his face for a moment, but he did remind me that I cannot live completely without training."

"I'm not asking you to, honey."

"I know, but…I will still require a significant portion of my time set aside for that very purpose."

"Of course," she was immensely proud of him, "I'll redouble my efforts."

"And I…" Vegeta grimaced, "Shall visit Dende."

"What's the problem? He's a nice kid."

"It's just…he was there on Namek, that's all. It's a time in my life that I dearly want to forget."

"I understand. I'm sure he won't bring it up."

"If he doesn't, Piccolo will, going on about how I've changed."

"You have changed!"

If it weren't for the hair, she might think she was speaking with a completely different saiyan prince.

"I know, but…I don't appreciate people commenting on it. If I want to act differently, it's my business. And it has nothing to do with Kakarot, either."

Vegeta scowled in the direction of his saiyan guest.

"Goku?"

"Piccolo seems to think my about face was because of him."

"As if!" Bulma snorted, "That dunce never showed up in those early years with you, he never visited, and then he was dead, and then after that we only ever saw him at parties!"

Vegeta gave her a sideways look, taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

"I know you've seen more of him in recent years, but that was since you've started you're big shift. And if anything, his presence sets you back, we saw that at the Tournament."

Vegeta's eyes fell, hand moving slowly as he took up yet another sandwich, devouring them at a much slower pace than the other saiyan in question.

"But anyway, I never got to say how proud I was of you, showing the deeper man you could be in your battle with Moro. Maybe you always wanted to be stronger than Goku but I think you've surpassed him in another way a long time ago. You're the better man."

He gave her a look as if she had grown a second head.

"You're not perfect," she laughed, "And your saiyan 'I must leave to settle the roar of my blood' genes are still annoying but…do you know that Goku never even called his family, during the seven years he was gone? Not even when Goten was born? Did you know Goten never heard the sound of his father's voice until he returned? King Kai could have touched-base with them, but it never occurred to him. That's just the kind of person he is. Pure of heart, but incredibly dense."

Vegeta pursed his lips, "I should have contacted you."

"You're the one who said it gave you a migraine."

"I should still have done so."

"Weren't you too far away for that?"

"Probably."

"By the way, where have you been training? The environment seemed to have done a number on Goku, but it must be pretty close otherwise Trunks wouldn't have been able to reach you."

"None of your business," Vegeta mumbled.

"So it's another one of your secrets, huh? I'll guess it relates to the others. I will get to the bottom of this, Vegeta, and then you'll find out that the concealing was far worse than the content."

He merely shrugged, the last of the sandwiches having vanished into the stomachs of two hungry saiyans.

"Oooh," Goku let out a long sigh, "That was yummy. You'll thank your mother for me, won't you, Bulma?"

"Sure thing." Panchy would be disappointed to have missed him, but at least she could tell her that he had eaten with gusto.

"Thanks for that, Bulma, but I should really get going," Goku rubbed the back of his head, "Chichi will never let me hear the end of it I don't pop 'round."

"Oh, Goku," Bulma stood, gesturing with her free hand, the other still clasping her favourite mug, "I'll walk you to the door."

"I was just going to use—"

"I'll walk you to the door," she repeated, insistent, grabbing his elbow on the way.

"Ah, okay," he acquiesced, following her into the hall, "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Wait until we get outside," she shushed him, an eye on her husband, who was watching the pair with interest.

Goku trailed her to the door like an obedient dog, giving her a similar expression as well. Bulma shivered as the cool night air permeated through her thin garments. She would make this quick, she decided.

"Vegeta," she said without preamble as she gently closed the door behind them.

"What about him?"

"Anything you can tell me. Anything unusual. Something happened to him on Frieza Planet 95 and I intend to find out what."

"Anything unusual? Well, he beat Jarrah. That's twice in a row he's shown me up. I think that's pretty unusual."

"Goku," she glared, "It's about time he surpassed you. It's the fact that he hasn't until now which is strange."

She did believe that, well and truly, her husband ought to have left Goku in the dust a long time ago. He had far more experience as a fighter, trained harder, was more determined, more creative and more intelligent than his counterpart. The fact that it was now, though…

But she wasn't about to admit to Goku that the timing was suspicious, because she, as a wife, was supposed to show complete and unwavering faith in her husband's abilities. She wasn't supposed to find anything extraordinary about him (finally!) achieving his goal of bettering the other saiyan.

"Anything else?" she pressed, hands on hips as she considered the hidden hubris of Goku, thinking Vegeta's achievement of his true potential was 'unusual'. Goku had always been one for surpassing his own limits, but she had been seeing far more of his saiyan side of late, particularly since he was gaining so many victories.

"Umm…" Goku scratched his chin, looking up at the sky with no idea of the hurt he was creating. He never understood how his offhand words, his unthinking actions, could lacerate the hearts of others. He was just like that, and she tried to tolerate it.

"Well, I was expecting him to be happier about it, now that you mention it."

"Happier about what?"

"You know, winning. Beating me. Only, he just gave me a lecture on how I couldn't live my life like he did," Goku frowned, "But that implies he thinks I'm not going to beat him again, even though he'll lose time to training with this healing business of his. That's not very nice."

"Goku," she rubbed her forehead, "It may well be that you can't catch up with him, now."

"It was only one zenkai boost!"

"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. He didn't exactly say outright that a zenkai boost was the responsible party. You may be biting off more than you can chew here, trying to catch up to him, or you might not be. But he's right, you don't want to live like he did. You have no idea how hard it was watching him destroy himself. Don't copy him, Goku. There's plenty more you can learn from him, but not that. Please."

Goku sighed, "I'll try."

"Weren't you always worried about besting yourself?"

"Yeah, but…" Goku looked off towards the kitchen, Bulma following his gaze.

"If it's any consolation, I think you'll be back on top in no, time, Goku," she whispered, "Can't you just let him have this moment?"

"He's not even enjoying it! I would be happier if he was boasting, then at least I would know I was someone worth beating!"

"Of course you're someone worth beating, Goku! He always thought that, always! He had such respect for you! Something else is going on here, that's all. He's rewriting his priorities in a way that I never expected. And I need you on my side, right now, not wallowing at the thought of being second-best. If you think you're better than him, then act better at the prospect of the silver medal than he did."

"He spoke to me about his past," Goku admitted, drawing Bulma up short.

"He…he did?"

"Yeah, a little. About expectations, about pressure to be the best, about how it wasn't worth it. He said his father was the reason, wanting him to save them from Frieza."

"That I don't doubt. His father was a very stern man, very demanding. Did he say anything else?"

"Not really. I'm just surprised he would tell me anything, even to stop me from going down his path."

"I'm glad he did. And you need to listen to him. If anyone knows what that road of jealousy is like, it's Vegeta."

"Yeah."

"Don't be like him, Goku. We love you just the way you are."

* A/N Cane sugar is not universal, but glucose probably is.