Gone

It was two days before Vegeta was allowed out of bed. The gunshot wound in his shoulder was mostly healed, much to the doctor's astonishment, but he wasn't at all surprised by his quick healing. It was a relatively small wound that his saiyan physiology could easily handle. During those two days that he was bedridden, Bulma had spent nearly every waking hour with him, pestering him with questions, boring him with pointless stories, and playing ridiculous games with him to keep him entertained. He would have preferred solitude, but there was little he could do to chase her off when he was stuck in bed.

Somehow Dr. Brief managed to keep the story out of the news and covered it up so no one – including his wife and daughter – knew what really happened at West City Park. They just figured the criminals were arrested and sent to prison and that was that. They never would have guessed that their young houseguest murdered them. It was better, in Dr. Brief's opinion, that they didn't know the truth of the matter. He kept it to himself and ordered Vegeta to do the same.

His attitude toward the boy changed drastically after learning he was a murderer. He found it hard to trust someone who was able to kill ruthlessly and without any remorse. Vegeta considered his actions justice, but he saw it as murder. It was hard to reconcile his previous feelings toward the boy and the knowledge he had about him. He cared about Vegeta as a son, but he couldn't condone what he had done. Would he do it again? Had he done it before?

Vegeta was privy to Dr. Brief's change in feelings toward him. He was ashamed of himself when he realized he was actually hurt by the man's aversion to his actions. He knew it went along with having an attachment to someone, this concern about his opinion. Still, he wasn't ashamed of what he had done and so he continued to hurt because he wanted Dr. Brief to accept what he had done. Maybe even applaud it. But that wasn't going to happen. There was a tension between them now, and it made Vegeta very uncomfortable. Would he be thrown out as soon as he was healed completely?

The saiyan walked into the indoor garden and crinkled his nose when he smelled the foul odor of the old man's burning cigarette. He was definitely there. Following the stench, Vegeta soon found Dr. Brief crouching down petting a cat that was rubbing against his leg.

"Hello, Vegeta," Dr. Brief said without turning.

Vegeta dipped his head in greeting even though he wasn't sure if Dr. Brief could see him. He took a few cautious steps closer and stopped again. He felt awkward. He wanted to turn tail and run out of the garden. He swallowed hard. "Are you going to make me leave?"

Dr. Brief stood up and flicked his burnt out cigarette into the grass. "I would be lying if I told you I hadn't considered it."

Vegeta cringed, not wanting to hear more. It was as he suspected. He had become a monster in the old man's eyes. He was a killer. A bloodthirsty beast. Maybe that's all he was ever going to be. It didn't matter where he went or why he killed, it would never be right. He felt tears stinging his eyes and fought them back. He would not cry. Frieza couldn't make him cry and neither could this foolish human.

"But I couldn't do that. I can't hold what you were taught against you," Dr. Brief continued. But no one heard him. Vegeta was already gone.

The young saiyan ran upstairs to his guestroom and tore his clothes off. He pulled on his old bodysuit, boots, gloves, and armor and grabbed his scouter from the desk. He threw his ID card on the bed and went out to his balcony. He looked back once and shook his head. He wasn't wanted here. He would never be wanted anywhere. He clenched his fists at his sides and leaped into the air and sped away from the compound back to his space pod. It was all he had left.

Dr. Brief went after the boy when he noticed his absence and went upstairs when he heard a loud commotion in the guestroom. Figuring it was Vegeta throwing a tantrum of sorts, he made his way upstairs and opened the door. Judging by the sounds he heard coming from within, he expected to find a disaster inside, but he found the room to be neat and orderly as usual. He walked inside, but he didn't see Vegeta anywhere. What caught his attention was a small white rectangle on the bed. He walked over to it and saw that it was Vegeta's identification. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand.

"Oh, dear."

He looked up and saw that the balcony doors were wide open. No one was on the balcony. The room was completely deserted. He walked out to the balcony, but he still had no idea where the boy had gone. He leaned against the rail and put Vegeta's ID card in his pocket. He didn't know how, but Vegeta was gone. And he had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back.

"What have I done?"

The scientist turned and went back inside, closing the balcony doors behind him. He somehow had to break the news to his wife and daughter that their houseguest had abruptly left. He didn't know how to tell them that he had inadvertently made the boy feel unwelcome. As disgusted as he was that Vegeta killed, he still cared about him. He could never imagine turning him out because of what he had done. But Vegeta left on his own accord and, if the abandoned ID card was any indication, had no intention of coming back to live at Capsule Corporation.

Vegeta landed next to his space pod and opened the hatch. He went inside and curled up in the seat. His shoulder, which wasn't all the way healed, was throbbing with pain from his recent exertion, but he ignored the pain. He would gladly take that pain and multiply it by a thousand if only to distract himself from the emotional anguish he was experiencing. Attachments. There was a reason he learned early not to have any. The last attachments he ever had were to his mother and father, and they were both taken away from him when he was a small child. He learned then that it was safer not to care about anyone else. He learned that the only person in the universe he should ever care about was himself. Despite the lessons learned he foolishly became attached to those humans and now he was hurting because of it. He was filled with self-loathing for his own stupidity. He never should have accepted the girl's invitation to stay with them. Never should have allowed himself to interact with them, to think they weren't so bad. He released a shaky breath and buried his face in the seat of his space pod. He could never go back to Capsule Corporation.

"What do you mean he left?" Mrs. Brief demanded of her husband.

He waved his hands in the air defensively. "Honey, now calm down. Vegeta left, but we can find him and bring him back."

Mrs. Brief had a rare scowl on her face. It was actually intimidating. She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently. "I want to know why he left!"

"Well, I, uh…" Dr. Brief stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "You see, he asked if I was going to make him leave…"

"Why would he ask something like that?" Mrs. Brief cut her husband off.

Dr. Brief cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his lab coat pockets. "Because of what happened a couple days ago."

Mrs. Brief's hands clenched into fists. "You mean when he saved Bulma and me from those creeps?"

"Yes… I mean…the problem was with his methods…"

"Why does it matter how he did it?" Mrs. Brief screamed. "The point is he saved us and now he's gone because you made him feel unwelcome here!"

"Now, dear, please try to calm down –"

"I can't believe this!" Mrs. Brief screeched, throwing her hands up in the air. "You want me to calm down when that poor boy is somewhere out in that city without a home! You should be ashamed of yourself! Where's Bulma? We're going to go find him and bring him home."

Over the years Mrs. Brief had learned to put up with a lot of her husband's faults. He was eccentric, absent-minded, and a bit of a pervert. She could stand all of that about him. But the one thing she would not tolerate was a breach in hospitality. He had crossed the line this time and she wasn't going to forgive him until Vegeta was back, safe and sound.

Dr. Brief sighed and nodded. He knew he couldn't leave Vegeta out there on his own any more than his wife could. He already missed the boy and the guilt he felt was growing by the minute. It certainly didn't help when his normally bright and cheerful wife was absolutely furious with him. "Yes, dear," he conceded as he went to find his daughter. No doubt she would scream his ears off as bad as his wife already had.

Vegeta forced himself to calm his tumultuous thoughts and sank into a meditative state. There, maybe, he could find some peace. He felt none in the outside world anymore. It was worse than when he was fighting and purging planets or being beaten by the lizard. The pain he felt was more real than any physical suffering he had ever endured. It wasn't as bad, but close, to the pain he felt when he learned that his planet, his people, his kingdom, and his parents were all gone. Ripped away from him for the lizard's own twisted amusement.

"Prince Vegeta."

Raditz and Nappa knelt down in front of him when he turned to see who had come into the lizard's throne room after returning from his last solo purge mission. His jaw dropped when he saw that it was two saiyans. But Frieza told him they were all killed when an asteroid struck his home planet! How was it possible?

"Lord Frieza?" he choked out, turning again to see only cruel mirth dancing in the freak's beady red eyes.

Frieza shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I guess you monkeys are more like roaches than I thought. These two somehow managed to escape the destruction of your planet. They're your subjects, so I suppose I'll allow you to keep them."

'These are the only two left besides me?' Vegeta thought forlornly as he looked back at the two older saiyans. He recognized Nappa as the general of the saiyan army. The other saiyan, a teenager with long hair, he did not know. Probably a piece of third-class trash.

"And remember, Vegeta," Frieza said with a sly smile creeping across his hideous face, "If you fail to keep these two in line, I will have to punish you."

Vegeta's face paled. He glanced over his shoulder at the saiyans and gulped. They didn't look very bright. They would, no doubt, be getting into a lot of trouble, and it would all be on his head. He sighed in defeat. They were his responsibility now. The last of his race. The pain of loss had not yet dulled, making him even less interested in his new companions than he would have been otherwise. All he could feel was the emptiness inside where his proud race used to be.

"Thank you, Lord Frieza," he ground out though he felt no gratitude. Only humiliation. And grief. It was the last time he would ever allow himself to feel pain over the loss of another's life.

"That's a good monkey," Frieza jeered as he coiled his tail around the young prince's throat. Vegeta clawed at the cold appendage, but it only tightened until he was left gasping for air. He was raised into the air and whipped into the wall, instantly knocked unconscious.

Vegeta gasped and shot up in his seat as, in his memory, his body impacted against the wall of his master's throne room. He rubbed his temples and rested his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. "Damn memories."

He released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and sat back in the seat. Always alone. Attachments were dangerous. He promised himself that he would never care for another being again in his life when his people were slaughtered. He went back on that promise when he came to this stupid mudball, when he allowed himself to grow attached to the Briefs. And why? Because they made him feel like he belonged, like he was accepted. It was what he craved, deep inside, more than anything, even revenge. He just never allowed himself to recognize that fact. He denied it until he convinced himself it wasn't true.

"I'm acting like a weakling," he chided himself. "It does not matter to me that they don't want me. It does not matter that I'm on my own again. This is how it always should have been. Damn them, damn them all! I don't care about them, I don't! I hope the lizard destroys this whole planet and they go to hell."

Inside, his heart ached more with every word he spoke against the Briefs. His pack.

"I didn't even do anything wrong," he grumbled. "Excuse me for protecting the weaklings." He rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. He could try to stay mad at them, he could try to feel indignant over the old man's negative attitude, but he was only trying to cover the hurt he felt. It was useless. He couldn't substitute one feeling for another. Not in this case. He wanted to go back and seek their forgiveness rather than hate them.

He took his scouter off and turned it over in his hand. At least there would be no more distractions so he could get his space pod repaired and be on his way sooner than anticipated. Maybe. It would be considerably harder to gather the materials he would need now. Fortunately he still had the tools Dr. Brief lent him. At least he was saved from having to hunt those down when he needed them.

There was nothing holding him back now. No petty attachments. What surprised him was that the ties were cut from the other end. But now he wouldn't have the trouble of convincing himself to leave when the time came for him to vacate the planet. He had no temporary home anymore. No surrogate family. No nothing. Just like when he arrived, all he had was his space pod and the clothes on his back.

"What do you mean he left?" Bulma shouted when her father came into her room to tell her they were going out to search for their now missing houseguest.

Dr. Brief was sure he was experiencing déjà vu. He sighed in resignation as his ears were again assaulted with the high-pitched screaming of a furious female Brief. "He asked me if I wanted him to leave and I merely told him I considered it. He didn't let me finish before he ran out."

Bulma scowled at her father. "And why would you have ever wanted him to leave? I thought you cared about him!"

"I do care about him, Bulma," Dr. Brief reassured her.

"Then why tell him you thought about making him leave? That doesn't make sense!"

"I didn't agree with his method of saving you and your mother at the park. I was afraid I couldn't trust him and that he might be a bad influence on you."

"What did he do that was so wrong?" Bulma demanded, putting her hands on her hips. She was the spitting image of her angry mother.

As he always did when he was nervous, Dr. Brief pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put one in his mouth without lighting it. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and shrugged helplessly. "I don't think I should tell you, dear."

Bulma quirked an eyebrow, silently demanding he answer her question better than that. If what he had done was bad enough to make her usually overly generous father consider kicking him out on the street, it must have been awfully bad. Now she was curious more than anything to know what Vegeta did. "It's not like he killed them," she grumbled.

Dr. Brief coughed and turned away so she couldn't see that she hit the nail on the head. He rubbed the back of his neck and refused to make eye contact with her for a while. "We need to go find him, dear. Your mother is waiting."

"Oh, now you're all about having him stay with us," she remarked snidely as she stormed out of her room and went downstairs to find her mother.

"I never really wanted him to leave," Dr. Brief told the empty room. But there was no convincing his family of that when they were throwing a fit over Vegeta's disappearance. He was ready to get off the guilt trip and go find the boy already.

Bulma found her mother standing by the front door with the hovercar capsule in her hand. She was still frowning, an expression so rarely seen on her face it almost scared Bulma even though she knew she wasn't the reason behind her mother's ire. Together they walked outside to the driveway and got into the car before Dr. Brief could catch up with them. Bulma sat in the passenger seat with Mrs. Brief driving, so Dr. Brief was forced to sit in the backseat. He was still closing his door when his angry wife pulled out of the driveway and headed into the city to look for the boy who had become like a son to her.

Vegeta didn't venture out of his space pod until his stomach started rumbling. It had been a long time since he ate. He left before lunch and the sun was already resting low on the horizon. He didn't feel like hunting, but he was hungry. It was either endure the sharp pangs of hunger or crawl out into the wilderness and find some game. In the end, his saiyan metabolism won out and he crept through the field in search of some kind of wild animal that would satisfy his enormous appetite.

It wasn't long before he caught the scent of a deer and her fawn. He crept through the tall grass until they were in sight and crouched into a position to pounce once they drew closer. When they got close enough he shot through the air and tackled the fawn to the ground, breaking its neck before it could even make a sound. The doe ran away, leaving Vegeta to eat the tender flesh of the young deer.

The saiyan quickly devoured the fawn and blasted the inedible remains into oblivion to discourage scavengers from coming to search for food. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. It was actually somewhat satisfying having raw meat for a change. He was a huge fan of Mrs. Brief's cooking, but a full-blooded saiyan needed the supplement of bloody, raw meat in his diet once in a while to keep him strong.

'This is probably all I'll be eating for the remainder of my stay on this stupid planet. I shouldn't complain. At least there's something to eat here. More than what I can say about Frieza's ship when he decides to starve me as punishment for some failure or other.'

Vegeta went back to his space pod and ran his hand over the smooth surface. If he could get it working again he could forget his stay on Earth and refocus on his need to grow stronger and eventually overthrow Frieza as ruler of the universe. 'Am I getting stronger here? The gravity is so low and I don't have anyone challenging to fight. I've spent more time recently training the girl than myself. Not that I have to worry about that anymore, but still. Have I been wasting my time? I should be using this opportunity to grow in power out from under the watchful eye of the lizard.'

He shrugged, not really caring if he grew stronger or not. What was the point? He would never be strong enough. He would never be free. He would always be hated by everyone he met once they learned what he was. A killer. A monster. The Briefs were proof enough of that. He thought they considered him one of their own, but now there he was, living alone. He felt bitterness sweeping through his mind again and shook his head to rid himself of it. There was no point pining over a life he could never have. A life that was stolen from him forever when he was eight years old. The life of a free man. It was nothing more than wishful thinking for him. Foolish thoughts he wasn't in the mood to entertain anymore.

"Honey, I don't think we're going to find him tonight," Dr. Brief said from the backseat. It was getting late and there were few people walking the streets of West City anymore. Everyone else had the sense to turn in and wait for tomorrow to do whatever needed to be done. They had been driving around the city for hours and had yet to see the flame-haired boy. They spent most of the time in the area where Bulma first encountered him. They even got out of the car and walked through the alleys, but he was nowhere to be found. Either he was hiding well from them or he wasn't in that part of the city.

Bulma shook her head defiantly. "We can't give up, Dad. He's got to be around somewhere, we just haven't seen him yet."

"We're not giving up for good, dear," Dr. Brief reasoned, "But I think our chances of finding him tonight are slim. He's probably already found a place to stay for the night, so we aren't going to see him walking down the street. We'll try again tomorrow."

Mrs. Brief frowned but nodded. She had to agree with her husband. The boy had enough sense to find some kind of shelter before it got too late. He had lived on the streets before he ever came to live at Capsule Corporation, after all. Reluctantly, she turned down the street that would take them back to the compound. She dared to hope that maybe Vegeta had gone back home while they were out and was there waiting for them.

But Vegeta wasn't at Capsule Corporation. The compound was empty, all the employees having gone home hours ago. No one was there besides the small family. Their home never felt so empty before.

"I can't believe he's gone," Bulma murmured as she turned the hall light on, illuminating the quiet compound.

Mrs. Brief knelt down in front of her daughter and pulled her into a hug to comfort her. "It's alright, honey. Don't worry about him, he's a tough little guy and he can take care of himself tonight. We'll find him tomorrow and bring him home where he belongs."

Bulma sniffled and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. A mother's love was the only thing that could ward off the forlornness of losing her only friend. "You promise we'll look for him until we find him?"

"Of course, honey," Mrs. Brief cooed, "He's a part of the family. We wouldn't leave him out there all alone."

The blue-haired girl nodded and pulled herself free of her mother's tight embrace. She tried to force a smile, ignoring the tears forming in her eyes. "Alright. I'm going to go to bed so I can get up early in the morning and we can go find him."

"Good idea, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Mom." She hugged her mother once more before going upstairs to her room.

Mrs. Brief stood up and sighed. She hoped with all her heart that they would find Vegeta the next day. She could hardly stand the thought of him being somewhere alone in the city. It didn't matter that he knew how to get by on his own, he belonged with them at Capsule Corporation in his nice, warm bed.

"Come on, dear," Dr. Brief said, putting his hand on his wife's back and guiding her to the stairs. "We should get some rest too. We'll find him, don't worry."

"We'll find him, don't worry." It was like a mantra that each member of the Briefs family kept repeating over the next few days as they searched for their young houseguest. Every morning they woke up early and drove into the city and walked the streets in hopes of finding Vegeta, but he never appeared. They wouldn't return home until night when it was too dark to search anymore and repeated the routine the next day.

They contacted the police department and reported Vegeta as missing, but they never heard any reports of him being found. He was like a ghost in his disappearance. It was as if he fell off the face of the earth. Every day it was harder to give up and go back home for the night to get some sleep before starting out in the morning again. Every day they were more desperate in their search for their adopted family member. Dr. Brief's guilt worsened and Bulma and Mrs. Brief's anger with him grew. Vegeta's absence was tearing their family apart with worry.

"You're sure this is where you first saw him?" Mrs. Brief asked her daughter as they looked around the deserted alleyway.

"Yeah, this is the place."

Mrs. Brief pulled her handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed at the tears in her eyes. She was worried sick about the poor boy. "Oh I hope he's alright," she whimpered as she turned and sadly walked back to their car.

Dr. Brief walked alongside her and patted her back comfortingly. There was little he could say to cheer his wife up anymore. It was clear they were all losing hope of finding the boy. For all they knew he left the city entirely and they would never see him again.

Vegeta perched on top of his space pod and gazed up at the gray, cloudy sky. The scent of rain was thick in the air and he knew it wouldn't be long before a downpour started. He inhaled the scent deeply and released his breath slowly. It had been five days since he left Capsule Corporation and he was still hurting as badly as ever. He wanted to see the crazy blonde woman, the absent-minded scientist, and the obnoxious blue-haired girl again. He wanted to taste the woman's delicious blueberry pancakes and listen to the girl prattling on about all the games she liked to play. He took it all for granted when he was with them, but now he missed it.

"I'm a fool," he told himself. He'd said it at least a hundred times already that day.

The repairs came to a halt on his space pod as he ran out of the materials he needed. There was little he could do until he obtained some. The only way to do that was to return to the city. He might not be willing to go back to Capsule Corporation, but there had to be somewhere he could find what he needed. He just had to go back and look. Now that he had the local language mastered it would be easier for him to communicate and locate a store that sold what he needed for his pod. He didn't have any money, but he wasn't necessarily above stealing if it meant reaching his goals.

His tail flicked from side to side behind him as he considered whether or not to return to West City that afternoon. He wouldn't stay there. As soon as he got some more parts for his pod he would return to it and stay there for the night. No sense staying close to the objects of his foolish attachments. He was convinced that if he distanced himself from them the pain would go away faster.

'I'll train for an hour. Then I'll go back and see what I can find. I can't keep putting this off no matter how much I want to avoid the city. I could go to a different city.' He shook his head. 'Stop being an idiot. It's just a city where those disgusting humans live. It's not like it matters to me. Why go out of my way to avoid them? It isn't like I'll see them.'

His mind made up, Vegeta hopped off his space pod and lowered himself into the starting position of his kata. He took a deep breath and started his mock fight, going through the motions while his mind wandered elsewhere. He leaped through the field, twisted through the air, flew into the air, dodged, kicked, punched, ducked, and whirled around faster than the eye could see.

He was halfway through his kata when a loud clap of thunder followed a flash of lightning and heavy rain started pouring down on the field. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips when he felt the cool water beating down on him. He spun around in a leg sweep, drops of water flying out in a spiral around him from his wet hair. He rose to his feet and jumped over an imaginary kick and landed on his hands before pushing himself back into the air, executing a tight flip and landing on his feet in a low crouch with the palms of his hands facing where his opponent would be, ready to fire a blast of ki.

His tail unwound from his waist and twitched slowly behind him as he stood up and regained his breath. He tilted his head back, allowing the pouring rain to fall on his face and in his open mouth. He didn't mind getting drenched. He actually enjoyed it. Another loud clap of thunder sounded through the air and lightning danced through the dark clouds, lighting up the otherwise dark sky. He always thought thunderstorms were nature's expression of power. They made him feel stronger. During a storm he could lose himself, pretending he was as uncontrollable as the gusting winds, as powerful as the blinding lightning, as fearsome as the cracking thunder, and as free as the pouring rain. And when the storm was over, he would wake from his daydream and remember he was nothing more than the slave of a tyrant. He sighed.

"Someday," he whispered. He stood motionless in the rain, losing himself in the rare sense of liberty.

A/N: Well, here it is, another chapter. I finished writing chapter 31 today, so I figured I could go ahead and update. Thank you so much for all the reviews! I greatly appreciate every one of them. I will take some of the ideas into account as I write and revise future chapters. Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing this story? It's a load of fun. I hope you're all enjoying reading as much as I am writing. Keep reviewing!