A/N: this chapter contains a flashback to Vegeta's days as a solider that includes violence against a child. The section is in italics

Vegeta awoke to the sound of a crying baby. He had not heard a crying baby in many years. He blinked a few times, trying to gain awareness. His stomach growled. Vegeta pulled a pillow up over his head in an attempt to drown out the sound. His stomach growled again, his hands balled up into fists, and he could feel his face start to sweat. Babies cry when they need something- food, a diaper change, attention- or when they are scared or hurt. Vegeta was much more familiar with the latter.

The ground was hard and cold, but Vegeta was too exhausted to care. Planet Zeria wasn't difficult for his team; the army was weak but large. If anything, his complaint was that it was far too time-consuming. If Frieza had let Vegeta bring an actual unit, not just Nappa and Raditz, this would have taken a few hours. Now Vegeta had been awake for close to 48.

It didn't matter now because it was finally over. The planet's population was easily in the millions 48 hours ago. Now it was 0. The acquisition of this planet was a big deal to the PTO. Pulling off this mission was something Vegeta hoped would put him in Frieza's good graces for at least a few weeks.

He laid back, willing sleep to come. Raditz and Nappa were already out cold. He was absolutely starving but even the thought of scavenging was too exhausting. A few hours of sleep had to come first. Vegeta rolled over, using his arms as a pillow. Finally, his eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

The sound of crying ripped him from his sleep. Nappa bolted up as well, but Raditz continued to snore.

"The fuck is that?" the big man questioned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Vegeta sprung up, following the sound to a nearby house, Nappa in tow. He traced the sound, following it upstairs, into a bedroom, and finally into a small closet. He opened the door, revealing a small infant on top of a pile of blankets. Zerians were somewhat humanoid, with a more orange hue to their skin and a single nostril where one would expect a nose.

"Looks like someone tried to hide it. A lot of good that would have did. Woulda just starved anyway," Nappa commented.

"We were smart for keeping these things in pods, how does anyone put up with this sound?" Vegeta grimaced at the volume, charging up a ki blast.

Before Vegeta could fire, Nappa scooped up the infant by its arm. A loud crack was heard and its screams turned more frantic.

"What the fuck, Nappa?!"

"Never been this close to a baby that wasn't a Saiyan before. Wanted to see how strong they were."

"Fucking kill it already," Vegeta ordered, his stomach suddenly queasy.

He tried to brush off the feeling as hunger, but it was something else. He didn't want to think about it.

Nappa broke its neck with a loud pop and the screaming stopped instantly. Vegeta turned his back and heaved uncontrollably, a small pile of stomach acid lying at his feet.

Nappa turned to him.

"The fucks that about. You goin' soft on me?"

"Fuck, Nappa. I'm just goddamned starving. Don't fucking talk to me like that or you won't live to see tomorrow, either," Vegeta growled, turning on Nappa, his nausea replaced by rage.

The infant still hung limp on Nappa's hands.

"Oh, come on, Vegeta. You shouldn't talk like that when I just got you breakfast," he laughed, holding the corpse up.

Vegeta turned on his heels, the nausea was back. He stormed off toward camp. Raditz was still sleeping. Vegeta grabbed him by his collar, shaking him awake.

"Wake up you lazy piece of shit. Go and find me some fucking food."

Raditz mumbled something unintelligible but stood up and wandered toward town. Nappa didn't follow Vegeta. He didn't like to be around Vegeta when he got in his "moods". Vegeta ran his hands through his hair and sank onto the ground. He was just hungry. That's it. That's why he felt so fucking sick.

Dr. Briefs heard a loud crash in Vegeta's room. His wife and daughter had gone outside to play with Trunks, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get to them in time if something was wrong. He hoped the Saiyan had just knocked something over, but he knew it wasn't like him to be clumsy. Vegeta didn't terrify him, but he couldn't say he was comfortable around him.

The sound of erratic breathing and strangled cries solidified the idea that he needed to go and check on Vegeta. He walked down the hall, maybe a bit slower than he should have, and paused outside the door to Vegeta's room.

"Everything okay in there, son?" He asked, knocking.

He could now clearly hear the sounds of panicked breathing. Slowly, he turned the doorknob and peered into the room. It was still dark, the drawn curtains preventing any sunlight from entering. He could make out the outline of Vegeta, huddled in the bed, lying on his side, shaking uncontrollably.

Dr. Briefs stepped slowly into the room, clearing his throat. Surprising Vegeta was not something he wanted to do. Vegeta did not move. Dr. Briefs hit the light switch, hoping it would help shake Vegeta from whatever was happening. No change. Finally, he stepped up to the bed to face him.

Vegeta was wide awake, but his face was contorted in pain and his fists clenched the blankets. Steadying his resolve, Dr. Briefs pulled the blanket away, checking if Vegeta was somehow injured.

"Vegeta, my boy, I think you might be having a panic attack. Take some deep breaths. I used to have this happen to me sometimes. It feels like you're dying, but you'll be alright. You just have to remember to breathe."

Dr. Briefs touched Vegeta's shoulder, working to keep himself calm. It wouldn't be surprising if Vegeta lashed out at him in shame. Vegeta's breathing finally started to regulate and Dr. Briefs decided to sit in the chair near the bed.

"Much better, son. Sit up when you think you can."

Vegeta sat up in the bed, pulling his knees into his chest. Dr. Briefs eyed a bottle of water on the dresser and brought it to Vegeta. He drank it desperately, the plastic cracking as it emptied.

"I'm going to go downstairs and get some breakfast. Panchy made quite a lot. She'd be thrilled if you joined us."

Vegeta nodded and stood up, following him down the stairs and to the kitchen. Bulma and Panchy had returned inside and were sitting at the table, Bulma occupied with feeding Trunks.

Panchy smiled widely when Vegeta sat down, and she immediately began preparing him a plate.

"We're all so glad you joined us! We've missed you so much!" Panchy beamed, setting the plate in front of him.

"The food bill was cheaper," Bulma quipped.

"Now is not a good time, Bulma," Dr. Briefs said quietly.

Bulma immediately looked up from Trunks. It was unusual for her father to intervene with much of anything. Why would he suddenly decide to defend Vegeta? She looked over to Vegeta- his face was just as pale as when he left the gravity room the previous night, but his eyes were swollen and red. She switched her gaze to her father inquisitively. He shook his head in an attempt to remain as discreet as possible.

The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully, the silence broken only by Trunks' occasional attempts to talk. Everyone was relieved to see Vegeta eat a relatively large meal.

"I will be in my room," Vegeta announced, standing up and breaking the silence.

"Let me show you how the television works. It seems like you might have some more free time on your hands," Dr. Briefs said, following behind Vegeta.

Dr. Briefs gave Vegeta a tutorial on the television in his room while Vegeta sat on the bed. After he told Vegeta about a few programs he may enjoy, he paused.

"Listen, son, Bulma is one of the most stubborn people I know, but she has a big heart. Take your time and figure out what you want, but talk to her. And sooner rather than later. Neither of you can keep going like this," Dr. Briefs said before leaving the room.

—-

"What was that about?" Bulma asked her father as he returned to the kitchen. "You've never said more than a few words to him and suddenly you're defending him and showing him how TV works."

"The boy is having a hard time. Maybe even harder than you think. I walked in on him having a panic attack this morning."

"Oh, the poor dear!" Panchy interjected! "I'll bring him some tea!"

Bulma sighed deeply. She knew Vegeta struggled with his mental health, but it usually manifested as anger and self-destructive behavior he tried to pass off as training. At his absolute worst, she had watched him struggle with nightmares. Panic attacks were new.

Panchy poured the boiling water and finished making Vegeta's tea.

"On second thought, it really should be you who brings this to him. He's much more likely to open up to you and he needs someone to talk to."

Bulma heaved another sigh. She wondered if she'd broken the world record for most sighs before lunchtime. She hated how much both of her parents were prying, especially her usually clueless dad.

Angrily, she grabbed the tea from her mother and stormed upstairs. When she reached Vegeta's door, she felt stuck again wondering whether or not she could let Vegeta back into her life. Did she care that he was having panic attacks? Was he stable enough to safely live near her son? The hot cup of tea was beginning to burn her hand; the fastest way to stop it was to give it to Vegeta. Out of an old habit, she entered the room without knocking. Vegeta sat on the bed, propped up against the headboard and mindlessly flicking through the TV channels.

"My mom made you tea. And she's not going to leave either of us alone until we talk. Neither is my dad," Bulma said, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing the tea to Vegeta.

He turned off the TV.