Chapter 3

Vegeta began slowly drifting in and out of conciseness as he entered a small one story home on the shoulder of the Predator, he couldn't say he knew a great deal about the human body and Vegeta was far from being a doctor, but he knew he was losing to much blood, and even worse, this house wasn't looking much like a hospital. The house felt lived in; he almost expected to see a family of 5 sitting at the large oak table as they walked into the dinning room. No one sat at the table, aside from one lonely bowl of fake fruit. They, I mean Predator, walked further into the house, each room looking more homey then the next. Checkered and floral wallpaper covered the walls; family pictures lined a small hallway. He began to drift off again as they entered what he assumed was a basement, it felt cold and damp, and held that familiar musky smell, but he hadn't opened his eyes since they set foot on the steps, he felt himself growing weaker and before long he passed out.

He awoke hazy, yet again his only companion was an insulation covered ceiling, its cotton candy appearance held only by naked wooden beams seemed almost comforting to the man. He began to actually remember what had taken place only hours before, his hand instinctively felt for his side, it was well bandaged, and aside from the agonizing pain, he felt better. You know it's bad when you're comforted by your own pain, but Vegeta was, he wasn't numb, he could think, and strategize.

Why hadn't they killed him yet? Or better yet, just left him out on the streets to die? He had nothing they could want, no money, no family, and certainly no information they could need. He sighed against the cold-his head rolled over to the side noticing the very professional medical examination table he lay on. He was pretty sure not every household had one of those lying around. He slowly soaked up his surroundings noticing an IV stand beside the table. Vegeta's heart began to race as he tried to sit up. Where the hell was he?

"Woah buddy, I wouldn't sit up if I were you." A deep sympatric voice called from a doorway to Vegeta's right. His neck craned around to notice a plump figure filling the doorway; the man huffed softly and walked through, examining over Vegeta with the greatest of care. He readjusted his glasses and picked up a chart filling it out to strained attention. "How are you feelings?"

"Where am I?"

He picked up his pen and began writing with his brow twisted in concentration. "Well you'll be happy to hear, you aren't dead!" He reported this news with a wide grin across his thick face.

"Where am I?" Vegeta's face remained solemn, as he watched the man carefully.

The stranger frowned, "Listen, you're one lucky son of a bitch. You Should be dead?" He huffed to himself and mumbled something about ungrateful bastard as he probed at Vegeta's tender side.

"How is he Frank?" Another figure appeared in the doorway, Vegeta couldn't make out anything distinguishing about him other then, his height, he loomed above Frank and himself easily, and his thick mop of blonde hair brushed the top of the doorway. His hazy eyes fell on Vegeta.

The man now called Frank shifted over picking up his notes to show Tallness, but the man didn't seem interested, and craned over Vegeta, his tan skin looked almost black in the poor lighting of his 'hospital' room. Vegeta laid back on the table looking at the ceiling, something didn't feel right, the warm and fuzzies had left when that man walked into the room. Vegeta was swept with panic, this man didn't care if Vegeta died, nope not one little bit. It wasn't a comforting thought when he realized his life lie in this mans hands. He cleared his through nervously. "W-why am I here?" Why was he so fucking scared, he was shaking? Was it cold in here? He opened his auburn eyes only to meet the murky eyes of Him.

"You're in good shape aren't you?" He lifted Vegeta's shirt, noticing the definition of his muscles and continued to prod over every inch of his body. "Ever broke any bones?"

"No." He watched with nervous eyes.

He ran his fingers through a small ruffle of blonde hair on his chin. "How old are you, and what's you name kid?"

"20, Vegeta Ouji"

"Young, strong.." he craned over Vegeta's much smaller body and looked at the fresh white bandages on his side, before forcefully grabbing his index finger into the wound. Vegeta screamed out, the pain was so instant, so intense, he could feel His finger inside of him, and his face slickened with his fear and tears. "And..." The man paused, unaffected by his act of cruelty. "You have balls. Charging my Michael," Vegeta felt like an animal, he wasn't hurting anymore, he was scared, scared of Him, as he loomed over his useless body. "You're mine now Ouji." He looked over to Vegeta's 'doctor' "Frank, answer me this." He leaned up running his bloody hand over Vegeta's head almost possessively. Vegetas skin crawled at the touch as he tried to slide away. "How to you break a horse in?"

Frank was suddenly very unsure and worried at his beckoning. "Y-you teach it who's the boss...b-boss?" the plump doctor examined the clipboard closely; he was as nervously as the crying man on the table.

"Good job Frank." He craned a smile to Vegeta. "Time to break you in Ouji."