Appointment
He couldn't believe what they were suggesting. As if he would ever willingly lower himself to do such a thing. He tried protesting and gave some very convincing arguments in his favor, but they were utterly immune to them, as if they somehow had practice in building up resistance and counterarguments to his appeals. It seemed like a battle he could not win. Unless he were to leave them again, there was no way out of it. He was going to have to go.
On the bright side, they had refrained – so far – from asking about the incident the night before. For that he was certainly grateful, but in some way he almost would have preferred discussing that over hearing what they told him when he sat down to eat breakfast.
He made a valiant effort to save himself from his humiliating fate. He reminded them that he basically had no identity for one thing. They assured him they could "create" proper documents. He told them he didn't need to go. They told him it was necessary for all children. He told them he didn't want to go. They told him that was irrelevant. He told them he'd never gone before. They told him now was a good time to start. They were unshakable in their resolve.
He could have made his protests physical. If they were in another dimension they couldn't make him do it. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't have lived with himself if he sent them on a one-way trip to Otherworld. He also didn't want to leave them again. Not before he had to. He knew he would have no allies in this battle of wills. He was defeated. The Prince of all Saiyans, defeated by two weakling humans. Pathetic.
"We've already made you an appointment," Mrs. Brief informed him.
Vegeta glowered at her. "Were you ever planning on telling me about this beforehand to get my opinion?"
"Of course not, son." Dr. Brief chuckled as he turned the page of his newspaper. "We already knew you wouldn't want to go."
"And you still make me do it?"
"You need to go, Vegeta. Don't worry, it's really not so bad."
"I'm not worried."
"Good. Then go out to the car, young man," Mrs. Brief said.
Vegeta growled as he stalked out of the compound and went to the car that was waiting in the driveway. His tail tightened around his waist as he closed the car door. He could feel his face burning with a deep blush. At least the girl wasn't awake yet to see his embarrassment.
His wave of relief was cut short when he saw a crown of sky blue hair dashing across the front yard to the car. He started beating his head against the dashboard until it cracked. He heard the car door on the driver's side open and shut before he heard the cheerful greeting that grated on his nerves more than usual.
"Morning, Veggie! Mom said I could come with you."
"Great."
That was when Mrs. Brief got in the car and started the engine. "Now Vegeta, don't be so grumpy. And don't forget to buckle your seatbelt."
He sneered and looked out the window as he grudgingly put on his seatbelt. Don't be grumpy? He was livid. Not only was he being forced into going to this "appointment," but he wasn't even given the dignity of going alone.
"You can trust him," Mrs. Brief said as she pulled out of the driveway. "You know that."
"Hn."
"Yeah, you don't have to be scared, Veggie. He isn't going to hurt you," Bulma added from the backseat.
"Why are you even here?" he hissed.
Bulma smiled at him sweetly. "I wanted to be there for you when you freak out."
"I will not 'freak' out."
"I bet you will."
"Stupid girl."
"Now children," Mrs. Brief interjected, "don't argue."
Vegeta and Bulma both rolled their eyes. If they didn't argue then at least half of their communication would be cut off. Vegeta didn't mind at that moment, but he didn't like being told what to do. Not when he was already feeling bitter about being forced into something he didn't want or need to do. Regardless, the rest of the car ride passed in silence. More than once Vegeta considered jumping out and making a break for it, but he refrained. He wasn't willing to further humiliate himself and prove the girl right by 'freaking out.'
"Here we are," Mrs. Brief announced when she parked next to a small white brick building. Vegeta recognized it, having been there once before, though not for an appointment for him.
Vegeta was the last one to get out of the car. He slammed the door closed and crossed his arms over his chest before following the females into the dreaded building. By the time he walked through the door, his tail had unwrapped from his waist and coiled tightly around his leg. He cringed as he sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs while Mrs. Brief went to the desk to get some paperwork.
Bulma sat down next to Vegeta and picked up a magazine from the table in front of them. She started flipping through the pages, not at all interested in any of the articles. She stopped when she heard Vegeta muttering something under his breath. Straining her ears to hear him clearly, she realized he was repeating some phrase in his guttural language.
"Vegeta, seriously, it's going to be ok."
Her cheerfulness was crushed under the weight of his gaze. She smiled nervously and shrugged. She hadn't seen him so tense in a long time. She hoped he wouldn't snap and hurt someone.
Several minutes went by before Mrs. Brief came over and sat on the other side of Vegeta. The paperwork was complete and now they just had to wait. Vegeta couldn't help but feel caged in with the Briefs on either side of him. He believed that if he were to make a move to escape they would grab hold of him and prevent him from leaving. He was going to have to go through with this whether he liked it or not, that much was obvious.
If he wasn't anxious before, he was after they repeatedly tried to calm him down. If they thought it was so necessary to make him stop worrying, then he had every reason to believe there actually was something to be worried about. Something highly unpleasant. He swallowed hard and tried to take his mind off his impending torture session. If humans underwent this procedure on a regular basis, then he could too. It wasn't going to kill him. Still, that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it in the least. He didn't trust that type of person. All the experiences he ever had with them were rather traumatic.
Vegeta nearly shot through the roof when a short, rotund woman wearing matching white pants and shirt opened a door and called out, "Vegeta Brief."
'Brief?' he wondered. 'Since when have I taken on their human name?' Shrugging it off he stood up when he saw Bulma and Mrs. Brief standing and followed them over to the unknown woman.
"Hi, there," she said, holding her hand out to him when he approached. "You must be Vegeta. My name is Vicki."
He was going to ignore her hand as he always did when someone made introductions, but he was caught off guard enough by Bulma's elbow in his ribs to cave and shake the woman's hand. He pulled his hand away quickly and wiped his palm on the back of his pants as he followed her through the door with the Briefs flanking him.
"Alright, Vegeta," Vicki said as she led him into a small, white room. "I'll need you to take your shoes off and step onto the scale."
Vegeta raised an eyebrow and looked up at Mrs. Brief as if seeking guidance on what he should do. He was sure 'Vicki' was out of her mind. Why would he want to take his shoes off? Why would he want to step on a scale? He wasn't meat to be weighed at a market. He sighed when the blonde woman smiled at him and gently pushed him toward the scale. Apparently it was a normal routine.
He kicked his shoes off and stepped onto the scale. He didn't like the way it rocked back and forth under his weight. His tail bristled slightly.
"Ok, let's see," Vicki mumbled to herself as she started sliding small pieces of metal across a bar. "That's strange."
"What?"
"I'm not sure the scale is right. There's no way you could weigh that much, honey."
Vegeta wondered why human females seemed to like calling him bee vomit so much. Wasn't that a type of food? Maybe he was more accurate in thinking he was being weighed like meat than he wanted to believe. He sighed again. "How much does it say I weigh?"
Vicki frowned and continued moving the small pieces of metal back and forth, but she kept coming to the same conclusion. "It says you weigh 142 pounds."
He mentally converted that to the saiyan weight system and guessed what was average for a male saiyan his age. "That seems low."
Vegeta knew he wasn't a big saiyan. Raditz and Nappa sometimes teased him about his small stature even though he wasn't fully grown yet. Either his body was taking its sweet time or it was growing normally and he simply wasn't genetically designed to get very tall. He remembered that his mother wasn't a very large saiyan either, but he always assumed that was because she was a female. He didn't really remember any other female saiyans to compare her to. Still, hearing he was only 142 pounds, or 16.4 tobs was frustrating to him. Maybe he was behind in growth because he had been starved so often. Saiyans his age should have been at least 18 tobs.
"Low? Honey, I don't think you know what's average for your age. The upper limit for an 11 year-old is usually 125 pounds."
'For humans,' he thought.
"Well, let's check your height anyway." Vicki directed him to step off the scale and stand with his back against the wall. He growled when he felt her trying to push his hair out of the way. It wasn't the most enjoyable sensation and he didn't appreciate it. Across the room he could hear the Briefs giggling as the woman tried to accurately measure his height. "Hm, only 53 inches."
"That's it?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else in the room. His shoulders sagged with disappointment. He knew he had been growing rapidly during his stay on Earth, but he was still horribly short.
Vicki smiled at him and gestured for him to follow her out of the small room. "It's alright, Vegeta. A lot of boys don't hit their growth spurt for a couple more years. Then I'm sure you'll get a lot taller."
Vegeta took no solace from her assurance. She was telling him what was average for a human male. He was a saiyan. He should have been much taller than he already was. Even if he had started to speed up in growth now, he was afraid it wasn't going to be enough to make up for lost time. It was likely his body had spent so much energy healing injuries that his growth was stunted. He was damned to be a small saiyan. He was still the most powerful, but it was irritating to constantly be underestimated because of his size.
They walked down a short hallway and Vicki took them into another room, slightly larger, that had a strange bed in the middle. "Sit down here," she told Vegeta, pointing at the bed as she went across the room to wash her hands.
He snarled a little and hopped up onto the bed. His snarl grew when the paper on the bed made annoying crackling noises as he shifted into a comfortable position. Mrs. Brief and Bulma went to the corner of the room and sat in two empty chairs. He didn't want either of them around. They were the cause of his current situation.
"Open your mouth," Vicki told Vegeta when she walked back over to him.
"Are you cra—" Before he could finish telling her off she stuck a thermometer under his tongue.
"Keep that there for a minute," she told him, never batting an eye as he fixed a threatening glare on her.
He considered spitting the thermometer out. He didn't want that thing in his mouth. It was stabbing his tongue and he didn't like it. Besides, she never explained what the purpose of the device was. If there was one thing he hated, it was people sticking things in him without telling him why. He already had issues trusting anyone, but this Vicki person was really trying his patience. Still, he wanted this appointment thing to be over as soon as possible, so he left the thermometer in his mouth for the sake of getting it over with quickly.
A minute later Vicki pulled the thermometer out from under his tongue and held it up to see what temperature it read. Her eyes widened when she saw the number. "Oh no, this isn't good. Vegeta, are you sure you're feeling alright?"
He scowled at her. "Of course I feel alright."
She shook her head slowly. The temperature the thermometer was reading had to be incorrect. If it wasn't, it was a miracle he was alive, much less conscious and so healthy-looking. "But – but this says your temperature is 106.4."
"So?"
"Oh my," Mrs. Brief said when she heard what Vicki said, "That's an awful high fever!"
Bulma was the only one aside from Vegeta who wasn't terribly surprised. She hadn't expected his temperature to be quite that high, but she knew from touching him that he had an abnormally high temperature on a regular basis. He was as healthy as a horse. It wasn't a fever. He just happened to have a freakishly high average temperature.
"I'm not sick," he growled. "Would you hurry up and finish this stupid procedure?"
Vicki, now thoroughly flustered, nodded and put the blood pressure cuff around his arm. The growl that was already growing in his chest became more audible as she pumped it up until the blood flow was cut off in his arm. What strange form of torture was this? She put the stethoscope on his arm below the cuff and slowly released the air so his blood could rush freely through his veins again.
"Well, that's good at least," she murmured as she wrote some numbers down on a piece of paper.
By now Vegeta was ready to be done. He didn't care what else was supposed to happen, he'd had enough of it. His arm felt tingly from lack of circulation. He moved to slide off the bed, but he was stopped when Vicki rested her hand on his shoulder.
"We're not quite finished yet, Vegeta," she told him sweetly.
He groaned and rolled his eyes. If it weren't for Mrs. Brief and her daughter sitting in the same room, he probably would have blasted Vicki into another dimension. But, they were there and so he had no choice but to endure whatever other strange tests she did on him.
"Ok, I'm going to go get the doctor," she said as she hastily left the room. She was still worried about the boy. He looked healthy as could be, but his temperature was so high he should be dead. That just wasn't normal.
"Well that was fun," Vegeta grumbled. "Can we go now?"
Mrs. Brief giggled and shook her head. "No, dear, you haven't even seen the doctor yet! He has to come and check a few more things before you're done."
"I don't want to see the doctor."
"It's not so bad, sweetie."
Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. They kept telling him it wasn't so bad, but he knew it was so bad if they told him over and over that it wasn't. Besides, he'd already had a taste of what was to come and he hated it. He liked his circulation to be uninterrupted, thank you very much. He could only imagine what was to come if the doctor was needed for it.
"Yeah, Veggie," Bulma said, "The worst he'll do is give you a shot or something."
"A shot?" Vegeta didn't like the sound of that. Either the doctor was going to give him some hard liquor or he was going to do something highly unpleasant.
Bulma shrugged. "Yeah, you know, an injection. Immunization."
"Oh hell no." Vegeta was done messing around. He wasn't letting anyone inject any foreign substance into his body. That never went well. He slid off the bed and marched over to the door intent on leaving with or without permission from the blonde woman.
"Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said firmly. "Sit down, mister."
'This is absurd!' his mind cried as he trudged back to the bed to sit down on the crinkled, crackling paper. 'I am the Prince of all Saiyans. I won't be bossed around by these ridiculous humans!' Despite what his mind said, his body obeyed.
They waited a few more minutes before a man who Vegeta had seen once before walked into the room. He was wearing khaki slacks and a white coat over a green shirt. He had a stethoscope hanging around his neck and there was a clipboard tucked under his left arm.
"Hello, Vegeta," the man said as he held out his hand. "I believe we've met once before. I'm Dr. Nienstedt."
"What a pleasure," Vegeta said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he reluctantly took the doctor's hand and gave it a firm shake. He smirked when he saw the doctor's wince of pain.
Dr. Nienstedt coughed and shook the pain out of his hand. "Vicki told me your temperature is high. Do you feel ok? You're not nauseous, don't have a headache, nothing?"
"No."
The doctor nodded and wrote something on the clipboard. Vegeta wanted to know what he was writing. He thought he had a right to know. It was about him, after all. He would have to inquire about that later. In the meantime, he wanted to get this appointment business done.
"Ok, I'm going to check your lungs now," Dr. Nienstedt said. He stepped over to Vegeta and placed the stethoscope on Vegeta's back. "Take a deep breath."
Vegeta growled audibly, not knowing how much it hurt the doctor's ears when he put the earpieces in. Had he known, he would have growled louder. Still, he inhaled deeply as the doctor told him to do.
"And release it," Dr. Nienstedt ordered.
'What the hell is the point of this?' Vegeta wondered as he slowly exhaled.
"And another breath."
The process was repeated again with less growling the second time. The doctor didn't ask Vegeta to do it again. Instead he wrote more down on the clipboard and then stepped in front of Vegeta and pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He didn't give any more orders, so Vegeta figured he didn't have to do anything special for this part. He frowned and waited for the doctor to finish what he was doing.
"That's a strong heartbeat," Dr. Nienstedt complimented the saiyan boy. He smiled and went to the counter next to the sink and pulled a small piece of wood out of a jar and went back over to Vegeta. "Say 'ah.'"
Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. "Ah."
He found himself once again with an unwelcome object in his mouth, only this time it was on top of his tongue pushing it down. He could see the doctor holding something else in his right hand while he held the tongue depressor with his left. He tried to move away.
"Just relax, son," the doctor mumbled.
Vegeta wondered how relaxed the doctor would be when he was on the receiving end of a ki blast. He shoved that thought aside and forced himself to stay still so the doctor could finish looking down his throat.
Dr. Nienstedt threw the tongue depressor in a red trash can with 'BIOHAZARD' printed on it. He turned around and put his hands on the sides of Vegeta's neck. He didn't get much further in his examination before he was abruptly pinned against the wall by a very angry young saiyan.
"What the hell are you doing?" Vegeta shouted.
"Vegeta! Calm down!" Bulma hissed as she stood up and pushed him away from the doctor. "What's your problem?"
"No one touches my neck," he grumbled.
Bulma put one hand on her hip and pointed to the bed with her other hand. "Get back over there and let him finish the exam. He isn't going to hurt you. I told you you'd freak out."
He bared his teeth at her as he strode over to the table, tail lashing angrily behind him. He hopped up onto the bed and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his face now contorted in a furious scowl.
The doctor, visibly shaken, smoothed out his rumpled coat and cautiously approached the volatile boy. "Well, at least we know you have fast reflexes," he joked.
"Hn."
Somewhat hesitantly, Dr. Nienstedt put his hands on Vegeta's neck again to check his lymph nodes to make sure they weren't swollen to indicate illness. As soon as he was sure they were normal he moved his hands away from the boy's neck.
"Now I need you to look at my finger," the doctor said as he held up his index finger.
Vegeta locked his eyes on the finger, but when a light shone in his left eye he flinched and closed his eyes. He could see spots in the darkness.
"You need to keep your eyes open."
Vegeta cracked his eyes open and shot the doctor a withering glare before fixing his gaze on the man's finger again.
"Are you trying to blind me?" Vegeta groused as the doctor continued shining the light in his eyes.
"No, Vegeta. I'm checking your eyes. Now follow my finger with your eyes." Dr. Neinstedt moved his finger around for a few seconds before drawing the conclusion that the saiyan's eyes were fine. "Looks good. Let's make sure your ears are good too."
Vegeta balked at that. If the doctor was going to test his ears in the same manner he tested his eyes, he wanted nothing to do with it. He was still seeing spots. He didn't need his ears ringing too. "No way. My ears are fine."
"I need to make sure."
"I suggest you take my word for it."
Dr. Nienstedt sighed. "Vegeta, I'm simply going to take a look at them."
The young saiyan eyed him warily before relenting. He sneered and crossed his arms over his chest. "Get it over with."
Taking his opportunity without hesitation, Dr. Nienstedt looked in Vegeta's ears and nodded his approval. "I'm going to do the same thing with your nose."
"What?" Vegeta choked when the doctor stuck his light in his nose. He reached up and gripped the doctor's wrist. "Get that thing away from me."
"Vegeta, calm down. You're going to hurt him," Bulma said when she saw her friend's temper flaring.
Vegeta growled as he released Dr. Nienstedt's wrist. "There is nothing to see in my nose," he spat.
"You're right," Dr. Nienstedt agreed as he rubbed his wrist. He'd been able to see what he needed by using the element of surprise and there was nothing to be concerned about. "Now if you would stand over here, please."
Vegeta went to the place where the doctor indicated and scowled at him. "Well?"
Dr. Nienstedt smiled congenially. He wasn't going to let the boy's sour attitude bother him. "Would you stand on your right foot?"
"What is the point of this nonsense?" Vegeta grumbled as he lifted his left foot off the floor.
"Just checking your balance."
"My balance?" Vegeta snorted. "How about I actually test it instead of standing on one foot? This is too easy."
"That won't be necessary," the doctor replied as he wrote more notes on his clipboard. "Switch feet."
Vegeta rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to his left foot. He waited for the doctor to finish his useless assessment.
"Ok, Vegeta. Would you take off your shirt?"
"No."
"Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said in a warning tone, "Do as the doctor asks."
The boy raked his hand through his hair before tearing his shirt off. He was about to blast someone into the next dimension. He had already been poked and prodded too much for his patience to bear. The only thing holding him back from going homicidal on the doctor was the presence of Bulma and Mrs. Brief.
Dr. Nienstedt stepped closer to Vegeta, brows furrowed. "There's not even a scar there."
"Where?" Vegeta asked through clenched teeth.
"Where the bullet hit you."
Vegeta shrugged. "It wasn't a serious wound. Is that all you wanted to see or is there another reason you had me remove my shirt?"
"Oh, yes," Dr. Nienstedt said. He cleared his throat. "Bend over and let your arms hang like this."
"Why?"
"Vegeta."
Vegeta glanced over at the frowning blonde woman. He groaned and bent over. He flinched when he felt the doctor's cold hands on his back.
"Good, no scoliosis. But I have to wonder where all these scars came from."
"That's none of your business."
"Actually, as your doctor it is my business."
"They came from different things," Vegeta explained when he heard the dainty – yet irritated – tapping of Mrs. Brief's toe.
"What about this one?" Dr. Nienstedt asked as he traced one long scar with his finger.
Images flashed through Vegeta's mind when he felt it. He remembered the specific story behind each scar on his body. That one was from one of his first encounters with Frieza when he hadn't learned to feign humility yet. He remembered the agony of the lizard tearing through his skin with his claw across his back, baring his ribs. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory.
"I don't remember."
"I think you do."
Vegeta shook his head and stood up straight. "You're wrong. Now finish the damned check-up."
"What about this one?" Dr. Nienstedt asked as he touched a patch of mottled skin on Vegeta's shoulder.
Vegeta slapped his hand away. "I was burned. Stop dredging up the past."
"How were you burned?"
"A sadistic bastard enjoyed using me as his plaything! Now drop it!"
The saiyan's outburst was followed by stunned silence. No one in the room knew what to say. It wasn't exactly a secret that Vegeta had been abused. His behavior gave enough evidence of that. Bulma knew more than anyone else what he had been through, but she really had no idea how bad it was or what specific tortures he had endured. He hadn't gone into much detail telling them what happened to cause the scar on his shoulder, but the venom in his voice and his choice of words told them plenty.
Dr. Nienstedt was the first to overcome his shock. "Who did this to you?"
Vegeta's tail bristled and unwound from his waist to lash angrily behind him. He was done answering any and all questions pertaining to his experience with the lizard. "I cannot tell you and it would do no good anyway. You have no way of finding him and bringing him to justice."
Deciding to fight that battle later, Dr. Nienstedt nodded and wrote some notes on his clipboard. He wasn't going to further exacerbate the boy's bad temper, especially on such a touchy subject.
"Fair enough." He set aside the clipboard and motioned for Vegeta to take a seat on the bed. "Well, let's continue the check-up then, ok?"
"About time."
Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his shirt on. His tail stretched out behind him and continued to flick with his irritation. His angry gaze turned to Bulma when he heard her giggling. He had no idea what could possibly be amusing her.
When she saw him glaring at her she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. She couldn't really help it. He was too funny when he was mad. Well, when he wasn't mad at her, that is. Seeing him giving the doctor such a hard time was funny to her. It was something she often wished she had the courage to do when someone bothered her. Too often her conscience reminded her that she needed to try and be civil to others.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed when he saw the doctor pick up a small hammer. He knew humans couldn't hurt him, but he still didn't like them going around hitting him, especially with some sort of blunt object like a hammer. His lip curled in a snarl as the doctor walked over to him with the tool. He looked like a cornered animal.
"We're going to test your reflexes now."
"You already said my reflexes were good."
Dr. Nienstedt chuckled. "Maybe so, but we need to do a formal test. Relax your leg. This won't hurt a bit."
Vegeta scoffed. Every single time someone told him that it meant it was going to hurt a lot. He knew better than to trust what the doctor said. Instead of listening, he tensed his muscles as he prepared to defend himself against any assault.
"Vegeta," the doctor said, "I told you to relax. This won't work if you're all tensed up."
The saiyan hissed with exasperation as he forced himself to release the tension in his muscles. He kept his guard up though. He watched suspiciously as the doctor raised the little hammer and brought it down on his knee in a light tap. Nothing happened.
"What are you trying to do?"
"Testing your reflexes, as I said," Dr. Nienstedt answered patiently. He rubbed his chin and then decided to use a little more force to elicit a reflex from the saiyan. He tapped his knee again, harder, but there was only the slightest movement in Vegeta's leg.
"Would you stop fooling around?" Vegeta growled. "You will never get any sort of 'reflex' with that stupid thing if you do not hit harder."
Dr. Nienstedt looked up at Vegeta's scowling face and shrugged. He raised the hammer and brought it down hard on the boy's knee. This time he was rewarded with a normal reflex as the boy's leg kicked up. "Strange," he muttered, "I normally don't have to use nearly so much force. I'm not sure that's a good sign."
"It also is not a bad sign," Vegeta told him. "I felt it the other times, but it was not nearly enough force to make any reflexes necessary. Therefore, they were repressed. Can we move on now?"
"I suppose so," Dr. Nienstedt conceded. "I'm going to ask you a few questions and then I'll give you a tetanus shot and you're free to go."
"Whatever."
"Right. So have you ever had any broken bones?"
Vegeta gave a bark of laughter in response. "Any broken bones? Every bone in my body was been broken at some point, most too often to count."
Dr. Nienstedt frowned and jotted down a note on his clipboard. "And have you ever had trouble breathing while engaging in any activities?"
"You mean when my lungs were not punctured?"
"Er, yes."
"No."
"Have you ever been hospitalized?"
"Yes."
"When was your most recent hospitalization?"
"When I was shot."
Dr. Nienstedt wrote the saiyan's answer down. "Have you ever had surgery?"
Vegeta wasn't sure how to answer that question. He'd never had any operations to fix anything. The regeneration tanks were always used to put him together after the lizard tore him apart. However, he had been experimented on a few times. Did that count?
"Not in the strictest sense, no."
"Do you know of any diseases that run in your family?"
"No."
"Have you ever been sexually active?"
Vegeta's eyebrow raised. "Not willingly."
Dr. Nienstedt dropped his pen and looked up at Vegeta with furrowed brows. "What do you mean by that?"
"Sadistic bastard."
The doctor sighed and nodded. He picked up his pen and wrote more on his clipboard. He had expected that question to be an easy 'no.' But, as with so many other things, the boy he was examining was proving to be an enigma in the most perplexing way. Physically he was outstanding in more ways than one. He was strong and fast, inhumanly so. But he also had abnormal vitals and reflexes and he was unbelievably heavy for his age and height. Sadly, he was also the victim of extreme abuse. And apparently sexual molestation. He was a puzzle waiting to be solved. It was no wonder he was so edgy and distrustful.
"Alright, that's all the questions I have for you, Vegeta."
"Good."
"So let's get you that vaccination and then you can go."
"I think I'll pass."
"Sorry, but that's not an option. I'll be right back." Dr. Nienstedt left the small room to take his paperwork to file.
"This is probably the worst part," Bulma tried reassuring the flame-haired boy, "but it's really not that bad."
"Hn." Vegeta was not convinced it wouldn't be detrimental to his health. He was not going to allow anything to be injected into his body, bypassing the normal defenses of his digestive system or respiratory tract. If he didn't want something being put in him, it wasn't going to be put in him. He had an option to refuse the vaccination whether or not anyone else thought he did. He'd put up with more than enough. An injection was where he drew the line.
A few minutes later Dr. Nienstedt walked back into the room and went to the counter by the sink to prepare the shot. Vegeta watched him, not trusting him in the least. He wasn't going to let his guard down and let the doctor get away with his insidious plot.
Dr. Nienstedt walked over to Vegeta's side and pushed his sleeve up. "There'll be a little pinch, but it won't hurt too much," he warned the saiyan.
"Hn."
The doctor wiped his arm with alcohol to sterilize it, then picked up the syringe from the counter. When he saw what was coming, Vegeta raised his ki to form an impenetrable barrier around his body. It wasn't visible, but it was strong. He smirked when he saw the doctor's eyes widen, then looked down and saw the flimsy needle was bent.
"Strange. That's never happened before," Dr. Nienstedt said. He walked back over to the counter and prepared a new shot.
Vegeta's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. There was no way Mrs. Brief or Bulma could accuse him of doing that on purpose. They weren't likely to draw the conclusion that he was purposely making it impossible for the doctor's needles to pierce through his skin. This time Dr. Nienstedt tried to push the needle in slower, but he came up with the same result. The needle couldn't break through Vegeta's skin.
"What is going on here?"
Vegeta shrugged.
"Vegeta, what are you doing?" Bulma asked from her seat across the room. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Nothing."
"I don't understand," the doctor said, completely flabbergasted. "There should be no problem with the needles."
"Not my fault," Vegeta drawled. "Too bad. I guess I won't be getting that injection after all. Well, it's been nice seeing you again, doc. 'Til next time."
The young saiyan slid off the bed and walked to the door to make his exit with as much dignity as he could muster. He froze when he felt a hand on his tail.
"Wait," Dr. Nienstedt said. "I wanted to address this too."
"Let. Go."
"I'm sure you don't want to keep this? We could have it removed for you—"
In an instant the doctor found himself lying on the floor with the young boy straddling his chest with his fist raised ready to strike. He saw raw fury blazing in his obsidian eyes and his sharp teeth were bared in a feral snarl. He swallowed hard. He had no idea what happened. One second he was standing and the next he was looking into the eyes of a demon child.
"No one ever touches my tail," Vegeta hissed. "If anyone tries, I will kill him."
"Oh dear, Vegeta, honey, don't hurt him!" Mrs. Brief cried as she leaped out of her chair and rushed to the doctor's aid.
Vegeta growled low in his chest and glared at the blonde woman. "Don't hurt him? This idiot wants to amputate my tail! You said I could trust this bastard."
Bulma was close behind her mother. She hurried over and shoved Vegeta off the doctor. "Veggie, calm down. He won't cut it off if you don't want him to. Don't worry about it."
Dr. Nienstedt slowly got to his feet and dusted himself off. He kept his distance from Vegeta. The hatred he saw in the boy's eyes was chilling. A shiver of fear ran down his spine. He didn't know what kind of person he was, but he wasn't taking his threat lightly. Something about him let him know that he wouldn't hesitate to kill. It made him uneasy thinking about the Briefs housing a monster in the form of a young boy.
"Let's go out to the waiting room, ok?" Bulma suggested as she took hold of Vegeta's elbow and pulled him out the door.
"Well?" Mrs. Brief prodded the doctor.
Dr. Nienstedt exhaled slowly and nodded. "I didn't give him the vaccination, but I don't think there's any needles that can break that boy's skin. I don't understand…"
"Just tell me if he can go or not."
"Yes, Mrs. Brief. I give my approval. He can go to school."
Vegeta halted and whirled around to storm back into the room when he heard that. "What?" he roared.
A/N: Didn't see that one coming... so I've spent the past couple days editing some of the future chapters after watching almost all of Dragon Ball in less than week... yeah... so I combined a couple chapters, which means I'm not as far ahead as I'd like to be in writing. And I'm not going to get to write more today or tomorrow because I'm going kayaking. But I promise to update anyway.
Well, in any case, I appreciate reviews! :D