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.

Vegeta was distracted from his latest round of fortification assault by the distinct aroma of food. Sustenance. That was what he needed to escape his prison.

The urge to annihilate everyone and everything in his path had been more subdued since, well, he supposed it was yesterday. Instead of working himself to exhaustion on the walls, he had righted the ruin of a bed and attempted to sleep in that. It had not been comfortable, but it had been more dignified than lying right on the tiles. Dignity was something he was starting to care for again.

He thought the absence of that fiend, Kakarot, from outside his door might have helped to dissuade him from losing himself to another round of knuckle-injury. Detecting the presence through his ki-searching or sense of smell seemed to render all sentience mute and turn him into a slobbering psychopath.

Not capable of a coherent thought, he had been driven only by the need for death.

His enemy's or his own, in that state he hadn't cared which.

Kill, maim, destroy, the repetitive battle cry of his own mind until nothing else had existed.

But he didn't feel quite so inclined today, and was instead looking forward to his meal.

The lock clicked, the knob turned, and Kakarot snuck like lightening into the room, carefully guarding Vegeta's escape route.

Now came the choice – should he try to kill Kakarot, when that had failed every instance up until now? Or should he bide his time until Kakarot, lulled into a false sense of security, left the door unguarded for long enough for Vegeta to sneak out?

He thought he might wait, especially since he had no idea how to leave Whis and Beerus' planet without their assistance. Kakarot was looking at him like the buffoon he was, cautiously lowering the offering to the floor. He seemed to be waiting for something, with those big, clawable eyes.

That's right, he had usually started trying to murder the moron by this point. Only he wasn't going to today, he had decided. Because he was more strategic than that, and the voices had calmed enough to let his mind work a little.

But how badly he wanted to give in, to launch himself at that fool and give him a true saiyan beating. Muscles coiled and strained as he fought the urge to attack, growling a warning but doing no more.

He would be sensible. Kakarot's death could wait; he was too weak now to achieve it.

"Leave." He bit out, proud of himself that it was not followed by a string of obscenities that would have made Bulma blush.

Huh. Bulma.

She was probably the only person in his memory he didn't feel like killing. He wasn't sure what exactly he felt for her, but it couldn't be good. He was supposed to be seeking death and destruction – that was what a saiyan did, and as a prince, he ought to lead by example.

For the sake of the only full-blooded saiyan he acknowledged (Tarble was a weak spot of dirt outside of Vegeta's radar), who he was going to slaughter anyway.

Ah, slaughter. That was a nice, familiar topic.

Vegeta decided to focus on that as the door closed again and he was left with his ration of food.

Slaughter. Delicious.

Goku practically skipped down to meet Whis and Beerus in the dining room.

"He didn't attack me!" he announced as soon as he entered, grinning at Whis, who was contemplating his wine.

"Oh, that is good news," Whis commented idly, while Beerus did not acknowledge the statement, instead choosing to pick at his teeth.

"So can we let him out now?"

It was clear Beerus had heard Goku's proclamation when he shrieked, "No!"

"Why not?"

"Let's not be hasty here, Goku. Just because he failed to attack you upon visiting him once does not mean he is fit to be released." Whis explained.

"Oh but come on," Goku whined, "Being cooped up in there can't be good for him."

"Nevertheless, I'd suggest we wait a few more days to watch for any relapses before giving him a taste of freedom."

Goku's shoulders slumped, but he couldn't argue with that logic. Vegeta had thrown himself violently on him every time he had visited up until that morning. He may have been excited at the change, but it had only been the once so far. If Vegeta could keep it up, then maybe he could be let out. For now, though, they would have to wait and observe.

After a few days of consistently failing to attack Goku, Vegeta had finally been allowed out of his cell, but only once Whis had conjured a weighted suit to prevent him from doing anything sudden or reckless. Pinning and nearly crushing him with his usual weight, Whis had adjusted the suit to his student's new strength. This caused Goku some sorrow, as he again contemplated what his determined friend had been reduced to.

Vegeta had done his best at storming off after the episode, and eventually made it to the grounds outside.

Goku was struck by how much had changed in such a short period of time. Not that long ago, both he and Vegeta had been training together, as equals, in those suits. Not that long ago, Vegeta had been participating in conversations with him like a friend would, or a brother, he supposed, since Vegeta still liked to insult him.

Now Vegeta glowered at him as if he wanted Goku dead, and would not acknowledge him any more than to tell him tersely to leave him alone.

It seemed both Vegeta, in his perpetual desire to find his own way, and Whis, with his caution, both refused to have Goku and Vegeta train together like old times.

Instead, Goku trained with Whis, while Vegeta struggled to do push-ups and other exercises under a nearby tree. Even as he ducked and weaved around his master, attacks being effortlessly blocked, Goku's eyes couldn't help but stray over to his friend regularly.

What he had sacrificed for the good of the Earth, for his family. Everything else that mattered to him. Goku could barely comprehend that kind of courage. Had Vegeta known what he would be giving up? Given the Darkness already inside him, Goku had to consider the possibility that he might have done. He was far more intelligent than Goku, and probably realised the inevitable conclusion of using his own soul as a prison, the power it must take to maintain such internment.

"Really, Goku," Whis reprimanded mildly, batting his student away yet again, "You need to concentrate if you hope to improve."

"Sorry," he mumbled, straightening up and taking his stance again.

But even as they resumed, he couldn't stop his mind wandering back to the other saiyan not far away. Contemplating the growing exhaustion he could sense from the prince, and yet he kept going. Really, Vegeta was insatiable when it came to training, to getting stronger. To suddenly be so weak again, when he had finally achieved his goal of reaching Goku's strength. It must be so galling for him. Goku could imagine what was going on in that mind. Anger, frustration, and self-depreciation.

Back when Vegeta had been a frazzled ball of loathing and violence, getting stronger had been his only goal in life. Goku thought he had probably returned to that place again. Returned to being that heartless, single-minded person. Focused only on reaching and breaking through his limits.

It wasn't fair, that all the progress he had made as an individual was wiped out due to Goku's own folly returning to the future that had been erased. It wasn't fair that he had reverted to a personality that no one had enjoyed.

Poor Bulma.

But at least he wasn't attacking everything on sight, anymore. That meant he was going to get better, didn't it?

Of course he was, Goku was sure of it. Somehow.

"Perhaps we ought to call it a morning," Whis suggested, supremely unaffected as Goku breathed hard, wiping the sweat from his brow. "A good lunch could be just what you need."

As fantastic as food was, Goku was certain it wasn't the solution to his current lack of focus. Dismissed for the time being, he made his way over to the source of his problems, laying in a panting heap beneath a large tree. Vegeta was scratching at the grass, snarling wildly as he had done in earlier days, trying to push himself up.

Working himself to exhaustion had been a trademark tactic for Vegeta, not that long ago. Goku wasn't keen on returning to that.

"Hey Vegeta," he piped up, still panting.

"Go away," came the response, with decidedly more venom than usual. Goku guessed this Vegeta did not like him enough to explain the 12 Universes to him anytime soon.

But he would get back their former relationship. He would.

"We're going in for lunch now, come on," Goku urged, holding out a hand he knew Vegeta wouldn't take. Sure enough, the prince slapped the offered hand away, intent on standing under his own power, a feat that continued to elude him for some moments.

"Do you need—?"

"No, I do not need your help!" Vegeta snapped, anger aiding him to finally rise, shaking and wobbling. He nearly toppled over again, before righting himself, and starting off, agonisingly slowly, toward the dining room with a huff.

Goku trailed behind him, a frown on his face. At least, until he couldn't manage the wait any longer, and sped around his unacknowledged prince, to an accompaniment of rage behind him.

That rage did not diminish as the four gathered around the table and its delicious spread. Continuing with his un-Vegeta-like tendencies, the prince stabbed and snarled at his food, showing no respect for the meal. This was a terrible faux-pas in saiyan culture, Goku had been told, but Vegeta did not seem to care about that at the moment.

No, his mind was focused on strength, power and violence. Nothing would be spared, not even inanimate objects and food.

Goku continued to sneak glances at his companion as he inhaled his own portion. Where was the usual manners, the rapid consumption with decorum? There was nothing in those eyes, or those movements, to suggest that the saiyan was a warrior prince. Just that he was a warrior, or maybe more accurately, a barbarian.

"Perhaps you ought to do some endurance training with Vegeta after lunch, Goku? Since he is occupying your thoughts so," Whis broke in, making Goku realise he had been staring at his friend for a few minutes.

"No way!" Vegeta objected fiercely, bearing his food-coated fangs. "I train on my own! I don't need help to get stronger!"

"But didn't you beg to be trained by me?"

"I was a fool," he hissed in response, "I should not have bowed my head to anyone."

"Very well, I take it you do not want to be trained by myself any longer, then?"

"Of course not! And it's not as if you were training me today! I will do fine on my own!"

"As you wish."

Goku was upset that Whis had given in so easily. Vegeta needed that training, needed to get stronger like oxygen. And Goku had to admit also, that he wanted to be with Vegeta as he struggled during his recovery.

But he also wanted to train with his master. Training always came first, after all. Vegeta would understand that, even if no one else would. Was his presence even much help to Vegeta? Was it detrimental?

Afternoon saw the pair practicing katas on the lawn, Goku in a new and heavier suit than he had previously donned.

Vegeta was steadfastly focused, and resolutely ignoring him, to the point where even Goku felt slighted. It wasn't like Vegeta to just ignore him like that.

After being screamed at twice for interrupting his concentration, Goku had given up trying to engage Vegeta in conversation. His companion was training with the fury and determination of one possessed. Having never seen Vegeta train prior to their sessions together, relying only on Bulma's ranting, Goku wasn't sure if this was a reversion or not.

Of course, Vegeta was always determined but this seemed…different. He didn't appear to care that he was quickly growing exhausted, didn't care about the fatigue drawing down on his limbs. Vegeta was pushing through like a madman and Goku had to admit it made him feel uneasy.

Taking advantage of a break Vegeta had been forced by his drained body to take, Goku decided to try again.

"Vegeta, you don't need to try so hard," okay, that had come out wrong. Vegeta had always tried his absolute best, "I mean, you've gotta relax a little."

"I don't need your advice!"

"You're straining yourself and you'll get exhausted before you finish!"

"How I train is none of your business, Kakarot!" Vegeta roared.

"But…you know…why the urgency? I mean, we'll still be young for plenty of years yet."

Vegeta growled low in his throat.

"Is it because I'm stronger than you?"

The snarling returned with force.

"Because, you know, I've always been stronger than you," Goku commented, parroting their earlier argument, and completely oblivious to the apoplectic result it was having on Vegeta, "And besides, it's going to take you a while to catch up."

"Shut up you ignoramus!"

Goku wasn't sure what the word meant, but he was certain it was an insult. Unless Vegeta was making up words. Vegeta was good at creating new attacks, so maybe he was trying to rewrite the dictionary.

Vegeta went straight to his holding cell, he wasn't about to call it a room, after being dismissed from dinner. He wasn't sure why he was still here. He'd made it clear that he did not want anyone's help, and he could do this kind of training anywhere. He did not need to be at Whis and Beerus' place, and he was quite sick of the pair and the other saiyan. It was also fairly obvious to him that they, or at least Whis and Beerus, did not relish his presence any more than he did theirs.

He could not wait to leave.

The question was, why weren't they letting him?

Finally freed from his weighted clothing, Vegeta strolled leisurely around his quarters, disgusted with the damage he had caused earlier when he had not been in his right mind. No one had seen fit to fix his living arrangements, so it looked like he would be sleeping in ruins for the time being.

He sneered. How fitting for a pauper prince.

And he really was a pauper – all of his wealth on Earth came from Bulma, and he did not buy the whats-mine-is-yours rubbish. She always criticised him whenever he made a financial or material decision on his own. He had nothing to his name, not anymore. No riches, no estates, no land and no people.

The only full-blooded saiyan not his own family did not acknowledge his birthright, and neither did any of the other species he was forced to interact with. No, he went through life unacknowledged.

Unrespected.

Worthless.

I've always been stronger than you

Vegeta was proud of himself for stopping short of smashing the wall in (or trying to, at least). Damn, how desperately he wanted to defeat Kakarot – no, destroy him, kill him.

Kill! Kill!

Vegeta turned sharply, shaking his head to clear out the madness. He might have agreed with its ideas, but there was no need to give in to its more psychotic tendencies.

And no need to damage his knuckles unnecessarily.

Instead, he headed to the showers, the perfect place to organise one's thoughts.

At least, that was how the humans viewed it, and Vegeta found, once he did not have to face time-limited shockingly-cold water and rapid hygienic scrubbing, that he agreed with the assessment. Feeling the warm water run down his aching muscles was unaccountably soothing, and he had realised he didn't mind his gravity-defying hair lying down, sodden on his back.

I've always been stronger than you!

The words came back, haunting him, dogging his every move. Why did everything about Kakarot have to vex him so? But the shout wasn't even true. He had been stronger than Kakarot when they first met, and had overtaken him since. So really, his ego-driven yelling shouldn't affect him so much.

But it did.

Because he, Vegeta, was supposed to be the strongest. His pride would not allow it! His pride—

Vegeta stopped scrubbing as he realised with a jolt. He had pride. And it was important!

He hadn't had it in those days, in the haze of violence and madness.

There were some parts of himself that he did not want to come back at all. Love? What weakness. He could do without it. But pride, that was a good thing to have, he thought.

It wouldn't hurt to cultivate this new feeling, he decided.

Pride.

And anger.

Those were the traits that made a saiyan strong.

And strength was the only thing of value to a saiyan.