((Author's Note: Yes, I know you all thought I would never update but alas I have done so! Its been a while and I'm out of practice, I've been wallowing in my own self pity and have been drawing characters for the manga I might...kinda do. ' But I cannot leave this story unfinished and you readers unsatisfied! Read and enjoy! -headbangs-))

((Disclaimer: Do officials even care what I write about!!? They are mine all mine! whaha! Okay I'm good))

Vegeta bolted awake, his body heaving with the force of his breaths as he tried to drag the air into his starving lungs. His body was drenched in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs uncomfortably. His dark eyes clouded as he reached a hand up to pull through the thick, black tresses of his hair in agitation.

The dream had been so real, so vivid. When he had closed his eyes that night, he had been disoriented at first as the dream had pulled him through time and space, the empty void of darkness and stars blurring and hissing past. When the motion had stopped, the shadows slowly receding into unrealistic clarity. What had been revealed to him would haunt his very soul, dream or no dream. A dim cavern loomed all around him, the walls glinting with the flow of minuscule rivers as they ran down the rocks uneven surface. His gaze traveled around the crevices of the cave as he moved closer to the wall and the cover the clinging shadows provided. The scent of blood was strong, both old and new, as he sniffed the air tentatively. A piercing scream of pain caught his attention immediately, the voice oddly familiar. He found himself turning the corner swiftly, careful to stay within the cover of the shadows. His heart nearly stopped at the vision before him. His Bulma lay broken and bleeding beneath the half naked body of some loathsome creature as it forced its wretched, contaminated blood into her mouth. The horrid sight wrenched from him a seething cauldron of swirling black rage, the dangerous emotion swelling and writhing inside his chest till he felt his very eyes grow red with murderous retribution. Nobody hurts my Mate and survives...

Even now the anger evoked by the dream and the pain of her loss robbed him of breath, constricted his chest with raw emotion. His long fingers pressed tightly against the tanned skin of his bared chest over his heart as if the gesture could bring him some measure of solace. As if he could rip his heart from his body to stop the endless onslaught of grief. His gaze drifted down to the empty pillow beside him where her sleeping body would have been. Vegeta swallowed the knot forming in his throat, his pained gaze sweeping over the room. He had kept it the same, even the arrangement she had at her little vanity in the corner of the room near the door to the bathroom, with its wide mirror and multitude of hair accessories and make-up which she had left in slight disarray the last time she had used it. When he looked at it, it almost gave him the feeling that she was still there. That she was up and about with her work, waiting for him to come downstairs. But his heart always reminded him that she was gone, lost to him forever and he would never be allowed to follow, even in death. His hand moved up to cover his eyes as they burned with rising tears, as if to hide the heart-wrenching truth of it all. His mate was gone. His other half. Bulma....

In a jumbled blur, Bulma remembered the sound of a familiar deep voice emerge from her hazy veil of pain as it yelled out words in a flurry of rage although she didn't have the energy to decipher the words. From her confused haze, she heard the sound of fists and limbs coming in contact with flesh at a bone breaking force, the sound of an unearthly ear-piercing scream of rage and denial quickly accompanied by the distinct snapping of a bone. Bulma recalled being hoisted into a pair of strong arms, her head against a hard chest. Agony and time blurred together into a tangled mass that she was just too weary to care about, emotionally or mentally.

The scent of fresh air and spice drove away the stench of blood and evil as she felt the wind tug at her battered body. In her sense of weightlessness she was almost sure she was being flown through the sky. Her head was throbbing and spun dangerously with dizziness when her eyes fluttered open just a bit. Her entire body was throbbing with dull burning pain, she was riding on a sea of it, but as she lifted her lashes drowsily, she could make out the faint outline of a person's face. Her hand went up weakly to lightly touch the shadowed jaw, the movement sending needles of pain shooting through her right side. It wasn't a familiar face. The lines slowly cleared to reveal a man with a sensual yet boyish face, the curve of it somewhat feminine but handsome all the same. The hair was a vibrant gold, spiked at one side and falling around his forehead on the other. With some effort, she could make out the color of his eyes, a slashing molten amber.

A soft murmur of discomfort and distress emerged from her bruised lips as she closed her eyes, burying her face into his chest. She was exhausted yet had no idea who she was with or where she was being taken. The fatigue crept into her body and mind, forcing her back into some sort of troubled rest. She felt it when they landed back on solid ground, the movements of his steps jarring her body despite his best efforts. Sounds of a bustling village preparing for sleep greeted her in her dazed-like state.

That was when she heard a deep authoritive voice address the man whom was carrying her. Hushed voices of other observers seemed to surround the two as if in silent awe. Although she couldn't attempt to open her eyes, Bulma's mind was awake enough to listen to the conversation.

"Who is she, Akaiden?" That deep voice was concerned but also very wise. It was in his authoritive, confident tone. Most likely he was some sort of leader, a man of experience and knowledge.

"I'm not so sure, Sensei. I was hunting and found this little one ill used and helpless in one of the Dark Ones' lairs. I thought it best to bring her back here for your counsel." Her carrier had a fair good-humored voice but for now it was heavy with worry. There was also deep reverence for the elder, perhaps he was a student his. Her mind was unconsciously putting pieces together to make them fit, even in her weakened state. Although she was attempting to put it all together, she was more confused than anything. Mostly, she wanted to let the dark void of sleep take her away from her pain and confusion. From this place of horrors and fear. She burrowed closer to Akaiden's chest in hopes of doing just that, a soft whimper escaping her throat.

"And the monster?" The Elder asked in an objective voice.

"Dead." His answer was stagnant as well, very serious.

"Take her inside, Akaiden. She has been through much. I'll have a look at her wounds and see what I can do to heal them."

With a slight nod from Akaiden, Bulma felt herself being taken into a shelter of a sort and set down onto a bed of soft pillows and cushions. Her entire body finally felt relaxed despite being sore as she sunk thankfully into the softness of the makeshift bed, sleep drawing her away from reality almost immediately.