Frieza pulled the trigger all the way, and there was a flash of light and a loud pop. Despite that, there was no real gunfire. He chuckled when he realized Vegeta hadn't even blinked or flinched through that, as though fully prepared and braced for his death.

"You truly have become a man among men, Vegeta," Frieza tittered in mock admiration, even as he brutally increased the pressure with his boot on Vegeta's throat. "Most men react in some way when I play this little game – but not you, hmm? Are you that ready to die?" he casually asked, smoothly ejecting the magazine with blank rounds from his gun, letting it fall to the ground. He then pulled out a different, fully loaded magazine from his jacket pocket with real, live rounds.

"Tell me truly now, Vegeta, because the next bullet won't be a blank."

Frieza expertly slid in the new magazine and racked the gun hard, automatically chambering a real bullet this time. He threateningly aimed the handgun down over Vegeta's face again.

"Do it," Vegeta growled, teeth clenched painfully hard as he panted through his nose. He blinked a few times as blood ran into his eyes, the image of Frieza above him blurring and clearing and blurring again. "Kill me right now, because if you don't, I'm going to put a bullet through your fucking skull," he hissed.

Frieza coldly glared down at the man that used to work for him, and for several long seconds, no one moved. The only sound was Vegeta's rough breathing. Finally, he snorted and removed his boot from Vegeta's throat and withdrew his gun, putting it back inside his expensive white jacket. Vegeta gasped from the relief, coughing roughly.

"You ARE going to die, Vegeta, but not that easily," Frieza snarled venomously. "I am going to torture you until you break – then the real suffering will begin. When I'm finished with you, I'm going to scatter the pieces of your body across this city so that West City learns what happens when you try to be a vigilante."

Frieza then kicked Vegeta hard across the face, whipping his head to the other side and instantly knocking him out cold. Frieza threateningly leaned over him, observing his raspy, wet breathing through his blood. Once convinced that he was indeed unconscious, Frieza squatted down next to him and felt his pockets of his black cargo pants. He fished out Vegeta's cell phone, stood back up, then heaved the phone until it soared and landed in the water off the docks.

He looked briefly satisfied until he glanced back down at his boots, frowning at Vegeta's blood now staining the expensive, custom-made white leather. Annoyed, he kicked Vegeta hard again, this time in his broken ribs for good measure, making him choke and hack up more blood.

"Well," Frieza finally said, turning away and walking off. "Let's go then. I need a shoe cleaning and we need to move. After all, we have places to be," he said, before climbing into the back of his own personal vehicle with a driver that had been waiting for him.

Zarbon looked at Nappa, then gestured to Vegeta. "You heard him, get him into the car so we can go."

Nappa sighed as Zarbon walked off. He then moved closer to where Vegeta was sprawled on his back on the wet concrete, wheezing and unconscious, a bruised and bloodied mess. He squatted down next to him, wincing over the rough state he'd been left in, and certain there was worse to come.

"I'm really sorry, Vegeta," he mumbled, hoping that somehow, Vegeta could hear him.

He then grabbed his arm to start lifting him up off the ground.

Not even 5 minutes later, police silently surrounded the warehouse from three directions, as it was close to the docks on the fourth side. Bulma, John, and Krillin all had their black body armor on with WCPD in big yellow letters on the front and back, all of them armed with semi-automatic rifles. Bulma in particular had her blue curled hair pulled back and pulled up, using her black WCPD ballcap to keep her hair out of her face.

She ducked behind a vehicle near the front of the warehouse for cover, briefly noting that it matched the description of a recently-stolen vehicle near the hotel. She held still for a few long seconds, and then came out with her gun extended as she cleared the back area, until she pressed up against the brick of the warehouse.

Bulma reached up to her earpiece, whispering, "All clear on the south side."

"Clear on the east side," John quietly responded back.

"Clear on the west side, but there was action here," Krillin whispered, surveying the blood on the concrete before him as he approached the open air loading dock at the rear of the warehouse. He frowned when he saw a gun magazine on the ground, muttering low, "Bulma, I think we may have missed them."

"Stay focused until we clear the building," Bulma hissed, not wanting to entertain what that could mean. "John, give him backup. I'll come up from this direction," she said, unknowingly following Vegeta's exact path from earlier.

"Roger that," John responded, circling around to come up behind Krillin.

Though they weren't specialized in tactical operations, their chief emphasized that regardless of their roles on the force, they were police officers first. Thus he had them all refresh their tactical skillsets once a month, something Bulma was grateful for now. In addition, calling for backup was out of the question with how many moles were in the department. It was impossible to do it without alerting Frieza, and she did not have enough time to filter out the moles, not if she had any chance of saving Vegeta's life. Thus she had made the hard decision of going in with only Krillin and John at her side, a choice she only hoped did not cost them dearly in the end.

A second later and Bulma forced her way into the small, abandoned office where Nappa had been bound. She immediately aimed her rifle at the empty chair, noting the restraints that were undone on the floor. Cursing under her breath, she ignored the sinking feeling that Krillin was probably right.

When she silently moved out of the office and into the main floor of the warehouse, only to eventually reunite with Krillin and John, she couldn't deny the truth. They were indeed too late.

"Fuck," she hissed under her breath after the three had thoroughly cleared the warehouse. They were standing outside in the night air now, gazing down at the concrete, still glistening from the rain earlier that evening in the dim street lighting. Still, the darker stains stood out; Bulma squatted down and touched one, bringing up her fingertips that were now covered in blood. She rubbed a couple of her fingers together, frowning in thought.

"We didn't miss them by much," she commented, observing the blood on the concrete again, her gaze scrutinizing. "No one died here. He must still be alive. Makes sense I suppose," she muttered to herself, her brain rapidly piecing everything together as she turned her sights back towards the ramp that led back into the warehouse. There were some remnants of blood there as well. "Frieza wouldn't kill him that easily."

"Yeah, this magazine is filled with blanks," Krillin announced, squatting and observing the discarded magazine from Frieza's gun while being careful not to touch it. "Doesn't look like anyone was shot here."

Bulma took a deep breath, and then stood up. "Alright, you two look for more clues here," she ordered. "I'm going to check the car."

"What are we even looking for?" John asked in confusion. "Shouldn't we just call this in?"

"Do what I tell you to do, rookie," she snapped, already heading back to the car Vegeta had stolen.

"Yes ma'am," John quickly said. Krillin shook his head as he walked back into the warehouse, with John on his heels.

"You said you wanted to be a detective one day, so think, John," Krillin urged him. "This is the last place Vegeta was. Think about how freakin' hard it was for us to catch that guy in the first place. He didn't get this far without thinking ahead."

"You think he may have seen this coming?" John asked in surprise.

"I don't know," Krillin admitted, keeping his rifle aimed in front of him despite them already having cleared the building. "All I know is that Vegeta's a smart bastard and he may have known that if shit hit the fan, Frieza wouldn't kill him here. And he definitely knew Bulma would eventually get here…"

Meanwhile, Bulma climbed into the driver's seat of the stolen car, closing the door behind her. It was a newer white sedan, though not particularly clean on the inside. She noted that the keys were on the dashboard, and then swept her gaze through the car, looking for anything that may have been out of place. It was a mess; old crumpled receipts, dirty napkins, empty cans, ancient-looking shoes. Try as she could to see something different, nothing stood out.

That is, until she raised her eyes to the sun visor. There, barely poking out, was something pulsing with a red light.

Bulma immediately lowered the sun visor, and out fell a listening bug, identical to the one she had found in her apartment that Vegeta had planted. Her heart raced as she lifted it up in realization, a conversation from a few nights ago playing in her mind when she had been alone with Vegeta.

"I may need to go back to my storage unit at some point," Vegeta muttered in the dark hotel room. "I think my knife may still be there."

"Oh, you mean the one you branded yourself with?" she playfully asked.

"Tch. Stopped the bleeding, didn't it?"

"It did," she quietly relented, kissing his bare skin just underneath where the bandage started on his shoulder. "Is the knife that important?"

"Yes…it was a gift from my brother before I joined the military," he admitted. "He said it would bring me luck, and he was right."

"Mmm, I see. I probably missed it in the rush to get out of there that night. I'll go look for it in the morning before work."

"How DID you find me there anyway?" he wondered out loud as she leaned up on his chest to look down at him. Their naked, bare skin was still hot against each other from their lovemaking that had only ended minutes prior, and the feel of her shifting against him was quickly putting him in the mood again.

"I found the bug you planted in my apartment – asshole move, by the way," she said, chuckling when he looked uncomfortable.

"I…" Vegeta started, licking his lips, "I was trying to…I thought-"

"It's fine, I know what you were trying to do," she easily said, letting him off the hook as she shifted on him again. Vegeta couldn't help the small groan that escaped him when she did, the blood pooling in his lower abdomen as he grew half hard again. "Anywho, I helped our lab reverse the signal and use some physics to get a read on your location. It does probably release a little static, but not much. Once that was done, we could see that you had stopped at the storage unit before you went to the diner, so I gambled on you going back there afterwards. Fortunately for me, I gambled right."

She raised an eyebrow over the way he regarded her as he digested her words, with a mixture of amazement and admiration. Finally, Vegeta reached up to the side of her face with one hand, easily pulling her down so her lips were over his as her loose and sweaty hair fell around them.

"You are brilliant, woman," he whispered, making her heart flutter.

"I know," she said with a smile, before he pulled her into a heated and passionate kiss.

Bulma blinked back the memory, and then her blue eyes focused. Vegeta had put his complete trust – his life – in her hands if his initial plan failed. She didn't know what she wanted to do more the next time he was in front of her: slap the shit out of him, or kiss him breathless. She was pissed that he hadn't listened to her and stayed in the hotel room even as she understood why he had left.

Most of all, she was terrified to lose him.

And then, on top of Vegeta's life being on the line, was the rare opportunity to get Frieza dead to rights. There could be no mistakes now – either she would succeed, or Vegeta would be dead come sunrise.

She got out of the stolen car quickly, reaching up to her earpiece as she ran straight for her car as fast as she could.

"Krillin, John!" she yelled, slamming the door shut behind her once she was inside her car as she quickly turned the engine on. "Get back to the police precinct, now!"

She pulled out without waiting for a response, spinning her car back out into the street while mounting her phone on the magnet holder over a vent. Pressing a button, she gave the verbal command, "Call Chi-Chi."

Her mind was racing as the phone rang, while she immediately began planning next steps. First and foremost, she was going to put the lab to work right away on reversing the signal once again on the listening bug so they could track Vegeta's location. This would also give her time to regroup and strategize on how to approach this, and get a team together with folks who Vegeta had not named as moles. It was not a guarantee that there wouldn't be a mole or two still there, but she needed reinforcements.

She needed one man in particular.

"Hello?" Chi-Chi answered.

"Chi-Chi," Bulma said urgently. "I need to talk to Goku."


The first thing Vegeta was aware of later that night was how hard it was to breathe. The next thing was how badly his head was pounding. It took some long seconds for him to fully regain consciousness as he slowly raised his head from his chest.

As soon as he did, Zarbon's fist brutally slammed into his face, rocking him and making his ears ring. He snorted, before spitting out a mouthful of blood to the floor. Vegeta forced his breathing to settle as he squinted open his eyes, though the left eye was swollen and refused to open completely. His face throbbed and burned, covered in sweat and blood. As everything slowly came back into focus, he found himself seated in a chair in a dark concrete room, with only one light hanging above him. When he tried moving his arms, he found himself unable to do so, for they were handcuffed behind him, with his forearms duct taped to the chair for good measure.

His legs were free though – a mistake on their part, but he needed to regain some strength before he did anything about that.

As rough as he felt, Vegeta could also feel that the worst of the drug Nappa had injected into him had passed, which was to his advantage – though it did make him wonder just how long he had been unconscious. He had no chance with the handcuffs right now, but he tested the strength of the duct tape which was wrapped thickly around his forearms. His broken ribs immediately and violently protested though when he tried using brute strength to tear himself free, and he grit his teeth with annoyance. He then lowered the tips of his fingers to the back of his tactical cargo pants. He was still wearing his black nylon gun belt, and he felt the belt loop near his lower back.

There, nestled between the belt and hooked into the inside of his pants, he had secured the earpiece that corresponded to the listening bug he'd left in the stolen car. It was unnoticeable unless one was actively looking for it. The knowledge that the earpiece was still there gave him a boost of confidence – Bulma would have a lead on his location soon and come up with a plan. Hell, the thing may have been transmitting location data already for all he knew. Unfortunately, his ears were ringing too much for him to tell.

Regardless, he trusted her completely; she was as tenacious in her job as he had ever been. Frieza and his men would never know what hit them, and the thought made him laugh through his blood.

"What's so funny?" Zarbon demanded, before violently punching Vegeta in the face again. The hard impact broke Vegeta's nose and made him snort rougher than before.

Vegeta spit out another mouthful of blood, before flashing a taunting and bloodied smirk.

"Is that all you've got, Zarbon? My old man hit harder when I didn't turn in my fucking homework," he sneered.

"We are just getting warmed up, Vegeta," Zarbon promised, before gesturing to Nappa who stepped forward from against the wall. Vegeta glared at him briefly, before his dark eyes skirted around the room. He had been in all the locations he had flagged on the map of West City for Bulma and Beerus, but the room he was in now was unfamiliar to him.

He then turned his attention directly to Nappa, and his face darkened with hatred as he bared his teeth.

"Fucking asshole," Vegeta seethed, eyes blazing with hot rage. Nappa briefly stopped walking – despite being restrained, bloodied, and beaten, Vegeta looked like terror in the flesh. "You came to my brother's FUNERAL, and all along you were working for the son of a bitch responsible for his death?"

Nappa frowned, remaining silent. After all, there was nothing he could say that would ease Vegeta's hatred of him, no assuaging his blistering rage. Even though Nappa felt like he had never had a real choice, and his recruitment into Frieza's service had only happened recently as a means to capture Vegeta once it was determined he was the vigilante, he knew that Vegeta would never forgive him.

Instead of responding, he handed Zarbon a metal bat, one that Vegeta immediately recognized as Dodoria's.

"Ah, you recognize this, do you?" Zarbon asked as he chuckled and took the bat. He twirled it once by the handle. "Good – because this one is for Dodoria."

He then swung the bat as hard as he could straight into Vegeta's chest, hitting him so hard on his already broken ribs that Vegeta's vision briefly went white as he choked on a pained cry. He took in one shaky breath, before his head fell to his chest again as he went limp. Fresh blood was dripping on the floor from his mouth and nose, some running to his tank top that was already skin-tight from his blood.

"What do you think, Nappa?" Zarbon asked, chuckling as he straightened and surveyed the damage. "Do you think he'd survive if I hit him 39 more times for the other men he's killed?"

"I don't think so," Nappa mumbled.

"Well, how many times do you think I can hit him then without killing him?"

"Don't you think this is enough?" Nappa asked warily, glancing at Vegeta. "He's unconscious again. You're going to slip and wind up killing him…and, well, I don't think Frieza wanted that to happen too soon," he quickly added.

Zarbon turned to Nappa, extending the bat towards him in warning. "Careful. It almost sounded like you care about him. Remember, he's only here because of you," Zarbon reminded him. "Now bring over the Treasure Chest, so I can really get to work."

Nappa looked conflicted only for a moment, but then sighed in defeat. Going over to the side wall, he grabbed a large, dark blue trunk with wheels and a lock, dragging it near Zarbon. Zarbon undid the lock, and Nappa's eyes widened as Zarbon rummaged through the tools inside the trunk, things not designed to be used on anyone. There were different drills, pliars, hammers, rope, nails, electrical devices, sharp blades and hooks that looked like they belonged in a horror movie.

Zarbon took out a power drill to make sure the battery still worked, the sound making Vegeta stir. He tried raising his head, but found that he couldn't manage it. His excruciating pain returned along with his consciousness, and he couldn't help the groan that escaped him.

Zarbon then grabbed Vegeta by the hair, roughly yanking his head back up. Vegeta growled, forcing his eyes open only to find the power drill right in his face. He tried to lean back as far as he could while Zarbon aimed the power drill over his eye that wasn't swollen.

"What do you think, Prince? I could destroy that eye, and hell, maybe we could even convince Frieza to let you live after taking some of your limbs. You wouldn't be much of a vigilante anymore after that," Zarbon threatened.

Vegeta strategically shifted his legs, summoning whatever remained of his strength to fight back if Zarbon brought the drill any closer to him – but Zarbon stopped when he heard Frieza's voice.

"A wonderful idea, dear Zarbon, but unfortunately, Vegeta must die," his shrill voice said. "After all, what kind of message does it send to let him live, after all he's done? Step back now, Zarbon, and let me take a good look at how our vigilante is doing."

Zarbon released Vegeta's hair, shoving his head roughly and stepped back as Frieza approached into the light. Vegeta felt some of his pain subside to his familiar rage, twisting his wrists against the handcuffs hard enough to bruise as he glared at Frieza, panting hard through his nose at the whirlwind of emotion the man before him easily evoked.

Frieza just smiled, his pale face terrifying in the overhanging light, his tailored, expensive, crimson suit not showing even a wrinkle. His red contacts gave him a frightening appearance, and despite no longer being the shy 10-year-old boy brought into his service, Vegeta's stomach still churned with anxiety underneath all of his loathing.

"Not happy to see me? Seeing me means that you are still alive, Vegeta, and you ought to be grateful."

Frieza casually slipped off the jacket, holding it out for Zarbon to immediately retrieve as his eyes went over to the trunk they called the Treasure chest. Reaching over, he took out a taser and tested it, making Vegeta's nose twitch as he tried to steady his pained breathing.

"You made some mistakes, Frieza," he sneered hatefully. "Your biggest one is that you didn't kill me when you had the chance."

"Oh, I still have the chance. And don't forget, you have made some critical mistakes too, dear Prince," Frieza drawled, clipping the taser to his belt. "I had one of my men stationed outside of the hospital where your friend was…what was his name? Goku? Oh, I believe you call him something else, don't you? Nappa says he is like your brother," he commented, digging and retrieving two pairs of brass knuckles.

Vegeta briefly tore his gaze away to glare hatefully at Nappa, who couldn't hold his eye contact.

"The night I had your officer friend shot," Frieza commented, slipping on both pairs of brass knuckles, "My man noticed that you left in an unmarked vehicle. It took us a little time to find out who you left with," he continued, making Vegeta immediately look back at him as he visibly paled. "Detective Briefs certainly is beautiful, Vegeta. Quite smart as well – brilliant, really, consistently keeping me on my toes. Well done, Vegeta," he laughed, looking back as a sinister smile spread over his face.

Vegeta was practically shaking, his teeth grinding, his adrenaline surging through him as he pulled hard at his restraints.

"Don't you fucking go anywhere NEAR her, Frieza," he snarled in warning, making Frieza laugh again as he approached. Frieza bent over, hands on his knees, practically in Vegeta's face.

"Well! It sounds like our vigilante may be in love – is that it? Oh, didn't I raise you to know better, Vegeta?" he whispered dangerously as Vegeta fumed, breathing hard with his rage. "Maybe once I'm done with you, I will bring her back here and let all my men have a turn with her-"

With no warning, Vegeta brutally headbutted Frieza, making him shriek in surprise and pain. He gave him no time to recover before he instantly shot up to his feet and kicked Frieza as hard as he could in the chest while he was still within arm's reach, chair still strapped to his back and all. Zarbon quickly made a move towards him, but Vegeta spun into him with so much force that he broke the wooden chair to pieces and sent Zarbon crashing back to the ground. Vegeta then backed up, his hands still handcuffed behind his back – his father had brutally trained him as a young boy to fight with his hands restrained, and for the first time in years he was grateful to the bastard for the lessons.

He briefly made eye contact with Nappa for a second; but when Nappa stood frozen in shock over his sudden attack, Vegeta quickly scanned Frieza and Zarbon both as they tried scrambling back up while he panted. The latter was closer, and so Vegeta leapt into a spin kick, connecting on the back of Zarbon's skull and dropping him immediately.

Just as he was turning back to face Frieza though, an electric current went through his whole body, jolting him and dropping him to his knees in agony as his teeth chattered. Vegeta took in a ragged, throaty gasp when Frieza released the taser, trying to breathe as he looked up just in time to see Frieza pulling one tight fist back that was wearing two sets of brass knuckles. Vegeta tried to turn away to soften the hit, but it did little to lessen the mind-numbing blow that struck the left side of his face and sent him crashing back to the floor. He moaned in agony as he laid on his side, resting his head on the cool ground. His adrenaline passed as quickly as it came, and his eyes rolled back as the darkness overwhelmed him again.

Frieza knelt down next to him and roughly slapped his face several times before Vegeta could fully pass out, until he grunted and opened his hazy eyes again.

"Oh, no you don't, Vegeta, stay with me because you need to listen to what I am about to say. That is the first time I've been hit in years, and to be honest with you, dear boy, I'm not even upset. I am actually impressed! If only I could replace my men with 40 of you, I would be unstoppable. What do you think, Vegeta, about an old arrangement like before? You agree to come work for me again, and I promise I won't touch your beautiful detective, not even one pretty blue hair."

Vegeta's head was foggy, tremors still racking him from the taser, and it took him several seconds to process what Frieza had said. Shifting slightly, he turned his head – which felt like it weighed a ton, and which he figured probably did not look good by the fresh blood running across his face – until his bleary eyes were settled on Frieza above him.

"…what?" he asked, his rough voice sounding garbled to his own ears.

"Yes, you don't look too great, Vegeta, so it's probably hard for you to understand. Let me dumb the words down for you. I made you an offer a couple months ago to rejoin my ranks. You declined, and well, that sweet little brother of yours paid the price. Now I am making you the same offer again. Come work for me again, Vegeta. I will have your injuries tended to immediately, and your beautiful detective girlfriend does not need to suffer the same fate Tarble did. What do you say, Prince?"

Vegeta stared blankly at him, and for a moment, Frieza wondered if he had struck him in the head too hard to have such a conversation.

That is, until Vegeta's bloodied face twisted in hatred, right before he spat in Frieza's face.

"Fuck you," he wheezed. He leaned his head back on the ground in exhaustion, his vision blurring.

Frieza slowly wiped the spit off his face, before sighing.

"Well, Vegeta. It seems you leave me no choice. I will finish you off, and then I will have your precious detective killed, just like I did your mother 17 years ago."

Vegeta blinked as his eyes focused, before he looked back at Frieza in open mouthed shock. Frieza callously laughed at him.

"Stupid, ungrateful boy. Your mother was a nuisance, and she tried getting the police involved to get you away from me, and well…I just couldn't have it, Vegeta. I spared you that hard truth all this time, so it wouldn't crush you completely, because I cared about you like if you were my own son. But you've always been so ungrateful. Even when I let you go so you could join the Marines, you still…"

Frieza's voice trailed off in curiosity as Vegeta turned his face away and pressed it back to the ground. But for once, Vegeta wasn't thinking about him; he was thinking of what his mother must have gone through before she died. He was thinking of all the tortured nights after her death when he had stayed awake hating himself for being the reason for his own mother's suicide. He thought about how many times his father had thrown it in his face, that she was gone because of him. He thought about he had stressed for years as Tarble got older, thinking that his little brother would hate him for it once he knew the truth (though Tarble never did).

And yet, all along…all along it was the man above him…how stupid was he, that he had never put it together before? Vegeta shuddered, hot tears running across his bloodied face.

"Now, now, Vegeta. Don't be too upset."

Frieza ruffled Vegeta's hair in an obscene gesture of fake comfort, as though he was a father soothing his son, deep down pleased that he had succeeded with words where he had failed with physical violence. He smiled at the realization that Vegeta didn't seem to even have the strength to react to the contact.

Now that he was sufficiently broken, it was time for the suffering to truly begin.

Frieza abruptly forced Vegeta on his back and pulled back his fist with the bloodied brass knuckles again, unhooking the taser again with his free hand.

"You will be reunited with your family soon enough."


"I want a one-mile radius around the building, nobody gets in or out of this area without me knowing about it," Bulma ordered fiercely. "And I want EMTs max two minutes out."

She swept her gaze over the folks there with her, a combination of her coworkers in WCPD along a couple police precincts, and the elite SWAT team that serviced the city. With the explosion earlier in the night, this was no longer a 2 or 3 person job. Bulma had been careful to hand-select who she wanted, but she was still nervous – Vegeta had run through the list of police officers, but not the folks on the SWAT team, and so there was still a risk the operation was compromised before it had even started.

But it was a risk she had to take. Shifting her gaze to the far wall, her blue eyes settled on Goku. He had answered the call with no hesitation, and was wearing WCPD body armor as well as being armed to the teeth. She had never seen him look so serious; he was tense, borderline angry, and for the first time she saw how fierce he must have looked on the battlefield as a Marine fighting next to Vegeta. Though she and Chi-Chi were both worried that he was not recovered enough to participate in this operation, Goku had refused to be left out – not when Vegeta's life was on the line. She hadn't even bothered getting her chief's approval for him to work while he was technically on suspension, figuring she could ask for forgiveness later if necessary.

After all, she needed all the help she could get.

Now they were just a few blocks away from the location where she'd tracked Vegeta, all huddled inside of a closed restaurant to try to maintain some element of surprise.

"Quick recap. The building is 4 floors high, with two additional floors underground, one that leads out to a parking lot," Bulma said, spreading out the floor plan with Krillin's help over a table. "SWAT will work from the top with Captain Ginyu and work their way down," she started, shifting her sights to the SWAT captain who nodded his agreement.

"WCPD will come in from the first floor at the same time and will work their way up. Your objective is to find Frieza, take him in if he allows it, though you are fully authorized to fire at will due to him being armed and dangerous. The same goes for any of his men – and we expect many of his men to be here tonight. Remember, our colleagues have proven now that Frieza was behind the explosion at the movie theater, so take no chances tonight.

"Goku and I," she continued, glancing over at Goku who gave her a nod of determination. "We'll come in from the first lower level from the parking lot, clear that level, and then go down to the bottom level. For the two of us, our main objective is to locate the vigilante, Vegeta Prince Jr, as we have intelligence that places him on the premises.

"And you all have body cameras and mics on your gear – these are to stay on at all times to help us with the public later. ANYONE who turns off their body cameras in this operation will be fired, no questions asked," she warned, looking them all over to make sure they understood. Everyone nodded.

"Good, let's move and get in position, we go on Captain Ginyu's mark."


Frieza paused the beating when his phone buzzed with a text. He curiously pulled it out, then frowned upon reading the message from Ginyu.

Heads up, boss. WCPD and SWAT have the place surrounded, preparing for an armed raid.

"Zarbon, with me now," Frieza ordered, pocketing his phone as he turned and immediately walked out of the room, tossing the bloodied brass knuckles back into the Treasure Chest. Only Nappa noticed the tightness in Frieza's face, but just got out of his way. Frieza exited into a dimly lit hallway with concrete walls along the sides, which ran along the lowest level of the building. Zarbon was quickly on his heels, the door closing behind him.

As soon as they were both out of the room, Nappa darted over to where Vegeta was laying on the ground, face down and unconscious, blood pooling from his mouth. Nappa grabbed him by the arm, shaking him urgently to rouse him.

"Vegeta, wake up," he hissed. Vegeta grunted softly, but otherwise didn't respond. Not wanting to waste any time, Nappa moved to the handcuffs holding Vegeta's wrists together behind his back, taking out the key from his pocket to begin undoing them. As soon as he had them unlocked, he forced Vegeta on his back and grabbed two tight fistfuls of his bloodied crimson tank top, making him sit up.

Vegeta groaned, dizzy at the sudden motion as Nappa shook him roughly. He resisted the urge to vomit right where he sat as he squinted open his one good eye, his left now swollen shut. His bleary and confused gaze settled on Nappa.

"Vegeta, get up! Now is our chance!"

Meanwhile, outside, Bulma and her selected WCPD team waited, tense and armed, for the SWAT team to make the first move. She and Goku were side by side behind a car for cover, both wearing their body armor and carrying their police semi-automatic rifles. They both had earpieces in, and Bulma still had on her police cap. Her blue eyes were trained on the rooftop of the building across the street from where Vegeta was as she waited impatiently.

Finally, she saw six SWAT members stand on top of the roof and fire down at the building below, shooting out tight wire rope that hooked and latched on near the windows of the top floor where Frieza was hiding. Several moments later, they jumped off the building and then went airborne, expertly zip lining down with their rifles drawn, until they crashed straight through the glass on the top floor of the building they were raiding.

As soon as the glass broke, Bulma and the rest of WCPD immediately stormed at the ground level, all at once. While most of them burst open through the doors, knocking them down, she and Goku ran around to the side and disappeared through the open parking garage, with Goku taking the lead.

Down at the bottom level, Frieza looked up when he heard the gunshots start. He quickly finished changing into a SWAT team uniform and matching body armor so he could easily sneak out of the building, several doors down from where Vegeta and Nappa were, while Zarbon dressed in a normal police uniform. Frieza scowled when he looked at the monitors showing the outside of the building – the police and SWAT team were swarming fast.

Frieza then nodded to Zarbon, picking up a handgun and holstering it.

"Initiate evac priority 2," he ordered. "We ran out of time with Vegeta, so kill him and his little friend before you go for the others. We'll try to minimize the damage with the police, but if push comes to first – kill them as needed."

Zarbon nodded as they both quickly left the room. Frieza headed towards the stairs to go up to the next lower level, with Zarbon heading the opposite direction. Zarbon moved with quick strides, drawing out his own gun. He pushed open the door to the room in the back.

He froze though when he saw that Vegeta was gone from where he'd been on the ground not even 3 minutes ago. He looked around, when Nappa suddenly was in his face. He seized Zarbon's hand holding the gun, aiming it to the ceiling as Zarbon fired, then quickly took advantage of Zarbon's shock and punched him as hard as he could in the stomach.

Zarbon doubled over and then Vegeta immediately got the jump on him, quickly bringing down rope around the front of his neck. Vegeta then violently wrenched Zarbon backwards until they both fell back, twirling the rope around his hands so tight the rope burned his palms while Nappa closed the door. Vegeta was panting roughly, his muscles all flexed, veins pronounced up his bare arms as he pulled as hard as he possibly could while Zarbon thrashed wildly to free himself. Nappa helped restrain him, and soon enough, the thrashing started coming to a stop. Vegeta didn't release the rope until he was sure that Zarbon was truly dead, his hands bleeding now from how hard he was pulling on the rope.

Finally, he let go, shoving Zarbon away from him before falling back so he was sprawled on the ground as his chest heaved. He had spent energy he barely had, his muscles screaming in protest as fresh sweat broke out all over his body. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to detach from the agonizing pain, before he slowly forced himself to move again lest he pass out.

Vegeta was shaking as he rolled over to his side, one arm favoring his ribs, right as Nappa put Zarbon's rifle on the ground in front of him, along with his loaded handgun.

"You might need these," Nappa offered as Vegeta raised his foggy gaze to him from the ground.

He panted roughly through his nose a few times, both of them hearing distant gunshots above them, until he gruffly said, "We're still…not even, Nappa. I never want…to see you again. If I do…"

"I understand," Nappa said, looking ashamed and disappointed as he turned to the door to try to escape with his life. "Good luck, Vegeta."

"Tch."

Vegeta looked down to the weapons in front of him as the door closed behind Nappa. He closed his eyes again for a couple seconds, then shook his head hard.

He then reached for the rifle.

Moments later, and Vegeta was out of the room, slowly trudging down the hallway. He had his rifle extended in front of him, his handgun holstered at his side. Still, his steps were slow, walking borderline unbearable with his injuries and blood loss.

A few steps and he needed to reach out with one hand to touch the wall so everything would stop spinning.

A few more steps, and he almost lost his balance, needing to stop walking and close his eyes.

A few more steps, and he weakly fell to his hands and knees, shaking and vomiting an alarming amount of blood, fresh cold sweat breaking out over his skin.

"Come on, come on, come on," he hissed furiously, trying to dig deep to find the strength to get back up.

Vegeta looked up then when he heard footsteps approaching down the stairs. He pulled himself up as much as he could while still being on his knees and raised his rifle up with one arm and pointed it straight ahead – if it was Frieza's men, then he would kill as many as he could.

His sight was blurred when two armed individuals rounded the corner, but he still made out the wild and familiar hairstyle of the tall one, and the blue hair under the cap of the other one.

"Vegeta!"

Bulma's voice had never sounded so good, and it made him briefly smile. In a flash, she slung her rifle over her back and ran around Goku straight towards him. She dropped to her knees in front of him as he lowered his rifle, and she immediately hugged him. Vegeta let out a shuddering sigh, too exhausted to hug her back as he just rested his head on her shoulder and closed his good eye.

"Bulma," he whispered in relief.

"Stay with him, I'll make sure the rest of this hallway is clear," Goku said seriously, side-stepping the couple as he kept his guard up and continued moving down the hallway, checking each room as he went along.

Bulma pulled back from Vegeta, moving her hands gently to his face to raise his head as she got a good look at him. She grimaced, her chest tightening. He looked awful, far worse than how she had found him in the storage unit after the fiasco at the diner. He was covered in blood, the left side of his face terribly bruised and swollen, lacerations and cuts bleeding on his face from where he'd been struck. He had at least some broken bones on that side of his face, his left eye swollen shut. She quickly scanned him over, wincing over how much blood was soaking his tank top – it made her briefly wonder if he'd been shot or stabbed. Before she could check, Vegeta sighed heavily and leaned against her again.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm going to take a look at you real fast, okay?" Bulma gently said, sliding her hands under his arms to embrace him as she shifted into a squat. He grunted as she moved him backwards, sitting him up against the wall. His head lolled to the side while she took out a switch blade and quickly cut his tank top open from the bottom up, before removing it completely.

"You came for me," he muttered, his words slurred, his eyes impossible to open. Bulma said something in response, but he couldn't make out the exact words, though her tone was soothing enough.

It was so tempting for him to give in to the blissful darkness again – at least then, the excruciating pain pulsing through his body would stop. But he was vaguely aware that if he succumbed, he may not get back up. Thus Vegeta resisted, instead focusing on his breathing and on the sounds going on around him. He heard distant gunshots and shouting from above which brought him back to his days of war.

More prominent though in his consciousness were Bulma's soft hands on his skin as she made sure he wasn't bleeding from anywhere she couldn't easily see. Her hands moved from his chest to his back, then back to his chest, then down to his legs. He vaguely heard her hiss as her hand gently moved back over his ribs; despite her barely touching him there, he couldn't help the flinch and groan that accompanied the contact. She said something immediately after that, and though he couldn't make out the words, the tone was apologetic.

Vegeta listened to her voice and Goku's, the words slowly becoming more clear, even if they were fading in and out.

"…not shot…internal bleeding…carry him?"

"…come on, buddy."

He felt Goku's hands then, stronger and rougher, go around his midsection. He winced as Goku tried to lift him, and apparently the feeling was mutual because Goku inhaled sharply with pain and stilled the motion.

Goku eased Vegeta back against the wall as gently as he could, one hand going to his own chest. He looked at Bulma apologetically as he grimaced.

"Sorry, ah, my injuries still aren't fully healed," Goku rasped, swallowing heavily. As soon as he had tried lifting Vegeta, it had felt like his chest was being torn open again. "Ah…just give me a second, I'll try again."

"No," Bulma decided, surveying Goku's face which had paled even from the small exertion. "You couldn't even lift him, you won't make it. And I can't have you falling down the stairs while carrying him, because then I won't be able to get either of you back up."

Goku frowned, visibly contemplating. He looked over his shoulder and commented, "There is an elevator that could get us back up a level to the parking garage, but-"

"No," Vegeta grunted, making them both look back at him in surprise. They had assumed he was out cold, but he had been tuned in more than they thought. Vegeta took a shaky breath, eyes still closed as he muttered, "Too risky."

"I thought so too," Goku said, grinning a little.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, one hand going to the right side of his face. He managed to open his good eye with effort, settling his delirious gaze on her. His vision was now better focused, and he took her in; she was sweating under her police cap, a few blue strands of hair sticking to her forehead from the perspiration. She had never looked more beautiful. "Can you walk? Because we can't stay here. It's just a little bit, I promise."

Though Vegeta wanted nothing more than to hunt Frieza down, he figured he was long gone by now, and thus it was better to live to fight another day. He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut with pain as he tried to gather up his energy once more.

Fortunately though, he had four additional hands to help him as Goku and Bulma both got their arms around him until they had him standing again. He put one arm around Bulma's shoulders, leaning heavily against her, his other arm still holding his rifle that he refused to let go of. Goku looked them over as Bulma nodded to him, one of her hands holding Vegeta's wrist and securing his arm over her shoulders, her other arm around his waist to hold him steady. Goku nodded back.

"Alright then," Goku said, turning on his heel and raising his rifle in front of him again to lead the way out. "Let's go."

Vegeta was doing better than Bulma thought he would, showing that dogged determination that had undoubtedly saved his life many times before. Still, the stairs were murder, and she could tell the toll it was taking on him. Bare chested now, she could feel his cold sweat getting even colder as he started shivering against her when they made it up halfway.

When Vegeta's weight suddenly got heavier and she felt him start going limp, Bulma stopped and called out, "Goku!"

Goku looked behind him; Vegeta was practically out on his feet. He quickly glanced back up the stairwell to make sure no one was there, then jogged down the steps to come up on Vegeta's other side. He easily took Vegeta's rifle from his hand and used the sling to throw it over his own back, then squatted down to take Vegeta's free arm over his shoulders.

"Alright buddy, not too much farther now," Goku encouraged him, breathing heavily himself. The weight of his body armor, plus supporting Vegeta's weight as well, was nothing to him – normally. But he had been discharged from the hospital mere hours ago, and it was testing his physical limits.

Finally, they made it up to the parking garage level. Bulma and Goku both turned their attention briefly to Vegeta. He looked half-conscious, his face pale as his shivering continued, but he managed a weak nod. Once Goku was sure that Bulma could help keep him standing, he let him go and slowly went on ahead to make sure the coast was clear.

Goku exited the stairwell, instantly scanning the parking garage. They were still one level down from the ground level, and from the melee and continued gunfire, it sounded like the police still had their hands full with Frieza's men. This level of the parking garage though was quiet.

Moments later, he had run back to the stairwell. He quickly opened the door for Bulma and Vegeta, giving them a nod. "It's all clear! You got him?"

"Yeah, I got him," Bulma responded with a nod, reaching up to the small radio on her body armor while she kept a tight grip around Vegeta's waist while she helped him trudge forward. "Briefs here, I need a medical unit on standby for transport to a hospital," she ordered into the radio while Goku led the way.

"Goku!" they heard a man shout, making Goku instinctively raise his rifle up. He sighed and lowered it when he saw that it was the SWAT captain, Ginyu, running around the bend of the garage towards them. "Did you find Vegeta?" Ginyu pressed.

"Ginyu, you scared the hell out of me," Goku sighed, before turning back towards Vegeta and Bulma. Upon hearing the name, Vegeta opened his good eye in surprise. He instantly raised his head, just in time to see Ginyu start to raise a gun at Goku's head from behind. "We just need-"

Vegeta whistled then a specific way, a signal between the two of them from their Marine days that communicated one simple message: enemy in disguise.

Everything suddenly moved faster than Bulma could follow, but things moved in slow motion for Vegeta and Goku, having done this exercise in simulated and real scenarios thousands of times. Goku ducked and immediately spun around behind Ginyu while Vegeta drew his handgun, using his free arm to protectively force Bulma behind him.

Before she even realized what was happening, Vegeta and Ginyu both opened fire on each other.

Vegeta's shot struck Ginyu right in his extended arm, a few inches off from the headshot he was going for. Goku hauled Ginyu down roughly to the ground from behind a heartbeat later, not letting him get off another shot – but the one he had already fired struck Vegeta in the stomach.

Vegeta cried out and dropped immediately from the gunshot, practically taking Bulma down to the ground with him. He clutched the wound, holding it tight with his free hand as he weakly tried to move backwards, prompting Bulma to haul him desperately as they scrambled backwards together until they were behind the nearest car for cover. Behind them, they could hear Goku and Ginyu in the midst of a fierce fight, glass shattering from their brawl as gunfire rang out again.

But right now, Bulma's only concern was Vegeta as she helped him sit up against the front tire of the car they were using for cover.

"Oh my god, oh my god, fuck," Bulma whispered, her hand going over his bloody one to hold pressure on the gunshot wound which was bleeding through his fingers. Vegeta's good eye rolled back as fresh blood trickled down from his mouth, his head falling forward until she cupped his chin in panic with her free hand and forced his head back up.

"Vegeta, Vegeta!" she said firmly, sounding calm even though inside she was in a wild panic. He blinked heavily a few times as he looked at her, gaze unfocused and exhausted. "I'm going to get help, you'll be okay, just stay awake, okay? Stay with me." Vegeta hummed in response, before nodding weakly as she reached up to her radio to page for help, her hand shaking.

Before she could get out a word though, she was roughly hauled backwards and pulled up to her feet by her hair. Bulma tossed an elbow behind her but it was hooked against her side, and then she suddenly stopped struggling when a gun was held to the back of her head.

Vegeta saw what was happening, but his instincts were slowed – by the time he got his hand up with his gun, Frieza already had Bulma at gunpoint several feet in front of him.

"Your detective is even prettier in person," Frieza chuckled.

"Frieza. Let her go," Vegeta slurred through the blood in his mouth, squinting as he tried aiming properly. But Frieza was ducked behind Bulma, and he couldn't get a good sight line.

"Do you know what you have cost me, Vegeta?" Frieza snarled, putting the pressure on the back of Bulma's head, making her wince and Vegeta grind his teeth in mounting rage. He kept the pressure on the wound bleeding in his stomach as he slowly tried to get back up on his feet. "Do you know what it's like to lose everything?"

"In fact, I do," Vegeta panted. Bulma's eyes widened as she watched him slowly stand again – he was shaking, agony crossing his face as he slowly straightened, his body a mix of blood and sweat. He needed the car for support, but there was no denying his iron will as he stood once again.

"Vegeta," she whispered, terrified for them both.

"Your mother and your brother made you weak, you ought to thank me for them both dying," Frieza sneered. "Look at you, you wouldn't be half the man you are, if they were still alive."

"Enough!" Vegeta ground out through his teeth, raising his gun towards Frieza's head – and Bulma's by proxy. "You…you have done enough. You took my brother…and my mother…but you won't take Bulma. You will fucking die tonight," he hissed.

Vegeta's heart was pounding hard in his ears. He was an outstanding marksman – he had never met anyone better. But he had missed the headshot on Ginyu due to his injuries, and if he missed now, he would kill Bulma. His hand was shaking, his body on fire inside and out, his vision not fully clear. Could he do this now? If he missed though… the mere thought made his hand holding the gun shake even more.

"I don't think so. Put the gun down, Vegeta," Frieza ordered, roughly hauling Bulma closer to him as he inched backwards towards the stairwell. "You too, Ms. Briefs," he said, almost politely. "I don't want any surprises. You may have the place surrounded, but I have a helicopter waiting for me on the roof. And I think the detective will make great company, don't you think, Vegeta? It seems you would know." A sinister smirk spread over his face. "I did tell you what would happen if you denied me again. You only have yourself to blame."

Vegeta's good eye caught Bulma's gaze. They stared at each other, having a brief, silent exchange. Finally, he nodded to her once, determination settling on his face as his hand steadied. Her eyes filled with tears, but she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod back.

"Well?" Frieza demanded, roughly hauling Bulma back another step. They were almost near the stairwell, and behind them, Goku still had his hands full with Ginyu. Vegeta took a deep, shaky breath. "What's it going to be-"

Bulma suddenly threw her head backwards, ramming the back of her head right into Frieza's nose. Startled, he let her go, and she dropped out of the way as both Frieza and Vegeta instantly raised their guns, pointing them at each other. Bulma covered her head as gunshots were fired, and then there was a moment of silence.

A second later, Frieza collapsed flat on his back, getting her attention first. He was dead on impact from a bullet right between the eyes. Bulma released a shaky breath, overwhelmed from her relief and the intensity of being held at gunpoint.

And then she turned her gaze back to Vegeta, and her breath caught in her throat.

Vegeta was still standing, the gunshots still ringing in his ears. He blinked a couple of times, looking at the surreal vision of Frieza lying dead before him. He lowered his arm, a smile teasing his lips briefly, as he shifted his gaze over to Bulma. When he saw the horrified way she was looking at him though, confusion fell over his face.

Until he looked down that is, and saw another gunshot wound in his torso, just under his ribs. The confusion on Vegeta's face grew even more, because he couldn't even feel it. He wondered if he was hallucinating it, until he dropped the hot gun in his hands and reached up to touch the new wound. The warm blood definitely felt real, and it suddenly dawned on him that he couldn't hear anything at all.

He looked back up to Bulma who looked like she was screaming something, but he still couldn't hear anything at all…he tried to speak, but found suddenly that he could no longer breathe.

Bulma then watched, horrified, as the life suddenly died in Vegeta's one good eye. She abruptly scrambled up and ran over towards him right as Vegeta's heart stopped and he collapsed.

He fell forward in a heap, and Bulma managed to catch him before he fully hit the ground. She instantly turned him over on his back, the tears already falling from her eyes as she quickly examined him.

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, shaking him to no response, taking his face desperately in her hands. He was completely limp and still, so deathly still, his good eye open halfway and blank. She reached her hand for a pulse under his jaw, cursing when she found none. She forced herself to breathe as she turned her attention to the gunshot wounds, before reaching down to her leg where she had strapped an emergency medical kit while she paged on the radio, "I need EMTs, now!"

"Bulma!" Goku yelled after having finally subdued and zip tied Ginyu face down, running over to them. He briefly froze at the sight, but only for a second before running to Vegeta's other side. He landed on his knees as Bulma opened her medical kit as fast as she could with her hands shaking, using her teeth to tear open the gauze, before shoving it into his hands. Goku immediately started tending to the gunshot wounds, packing them with swift expertise from his combat medical training in the military.

"CPR, CPR, start CPR," he said roughly, knowing without even checking that Vegeta was dead. He tried to keep focused on his task, not daring look at his best friend's face, lest he lose his nerve. Before he'd even said a thing, Bulma was already positioning herself over Vegeta's chest now that Goku was tending to the bleeding that was out of control.

Bulma interlocked her hands together, focusing on her own task as she remembered her training, and began the chest compressions – while praying that she wasn't making his condition worse with his chest injuries. She kept count under her breath, blinking the tears out of her eyes, before shifting over to force Vegeta's head back. She pinched his nose, covering his mouth with hers as she started rescue breaths.

"How long until the EMTs get here?" Goku demanded, stopping the bleeding from one gunshot wound as he worked on the second.

"They're less than two minutes out," Bulma breathlessly replied, pausing briefly only to wipe her forearm across her face to rid her tears and her sweat. She positioned herself again on Vegeta's chest, resuming the compressions, but fresh tears came when she realized he still wasn't breathing.

"Come on, Vegeta, come on, don't fucking do this to me," she hissed, her vision blurring as she shifted over to tilt Vegeta's head back again for more rescue breaths, her touch more frantic. Done with tending to Vegeta's bleeding, Goku could only sit and watch helplessly as Bulma shifted to the chest compressions again. "Goddamnit, Vegeta, BREATHE!" Bulma cried in frustration.

Vegeta suddenly gasped, coughing hoarsely a couple times. Bulma instantly stopped, taking his face in her hands as she choked on a sob. "Vegeta," she breathed, studying his face intently. His good eye fluttered closed as he grunted weakly, before he fell limp and still again.

But not as still as before. Lowering her hand to his chest over his heart, Bulma could feel him raggedly breathing. His breaths were far too shallow and irregular, and his heartbeat felt weak underneath his cold, sweaty, and bloody skin.

Still, it was the best thing she had ever felt.

Goku took off his jacket then, using it to cover Vegeta and keep him warm while Bulma shifted over by his head. She could hear the sirens in the distance getting closer, and leaned her head down by Vegeta's ear as she gently cradled his head. She didn't know if it was her imagination, but it felt like he turned his head slightly towards her when she touched him, a soft whimper unconsciously escaping him.

"You're okay. We're here with you," she whispered soothingly, her tears streaming down her face as she waited for the EMTs. "Everything will be okay, Vegeta. I've got you now."