PastPain

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Past the Pain
by
NansJns

    "But it's not just her beauty, for beauty I've seen
    ('Though she outshines what beauty I know.)
    It's the faith she can place in the truth of a dream,
    The good she believes I can show!"
     "Ladyhawke!" by Julia Ecklar.

Vegeta switched off the high gravity with a faint grunt of displeasure. He was only stopping because his stomach wouldn't let him concentrate. He had little doubt that if his stomach could speak, it would be demanding to know when his throat had been slit, and if it hadn't, then where was the food he needed to live? He stalked out of the gravity ship and headed for the main Capsule Corp building.

He rummaged through the refrigerator and pulled out a dozen different articles. He then stripped the pantry in a similar fashion. "Can't this place ever keep enough food?" he wondered aloud. Of course, they'd never had to feed a Saiyan before, expect for the brief time he stayed there waiting for Kakarott to be wished back. Vegeta almost laughed. Saiyans were known throughout the galaxy not just for being great fighters, but also for having black holes instead of stomachs.

He sat down and began eating, contemplating his training. He was getting stronger, there was no doubt of that, but until such time as he could become a Super Saiyan, he
was still weaker than Kakarott. The thought was maddening. The sound of an air car door slamming and voices raised in argument drew Vegeta's attention away from both his food and his idiotic rival. He stood up and looked out the window and saw Bulma Briefs with the scarred human named Yamcha. Vegeta scowled. That weakling was always around here, talking with, kissing, or fighting with that blue-haired banshee. His mind flashed to a time he had walked into the living room while they had been in the middle of a kissing fest on the couch, and his stomach turned.

He didn't know why, but every time he saw her in that weakling's arms he wanted to destroy something, and every time the couple fought his mood improved. Vegeta noted
lightly that Yamcha's left hand and wrist were bandaged, and Bulma seemed to be in between worried and angry with him.

"Fine! Make it worse! Completely lose the use of that hand! See what I care!" she finally snapped, and marched to the house. Yamcha came after her.

"C'mon, Bulma! I have to keep training! I just won't use this hand, okay?" Yamcha
grabbed her wrist with his good hand so she wouldn't walk further away.

"Let go and leave," Vegeta whispered from the window. What the hell am I
saying? he wondered a second later.

"Yamcha, you can't train one-handed, and we both know it. You're going to make that hand and wrist worse if you don't stop for a couple days, or a week, or something," Bulma insisted.

"But I can't! We have to be prepared for. . ." Yamcha started.

"A few days won't make that much of a difference!" Bulma cut him off.

"That's it, send him away," Vegeta muttered softly.

"I'm just worried about you, that's all," she softened up and held his unharmed hand.
Vegeta flinched and gritted his teeth. What am I doing? What's wrong with me? he thought.

"I have to go and get some ice on my arm. I'll be back tomorrow," Yamcha smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

"You can get some ice here," Bulma pointed out.

"No," Vegeta hissed. They didn't hear him, of course, and both entered the house. Vegeta practically teleported back into his chair and began eating again. When Bulma and Yamcha walked in, he acted as though he hadn't known they were there.

"Humph. You humans are so weak and fragile. Letting a little thing like that slow you
down," Vegeta mocked Yamcha lightly.

"Aw, shut up. It's only a slight sprain and dislocation. I'll be fine soon," Yamcha
snapped.

"And you," Vegeta ignored him and turned to Bulma, "fawning over him as if he were
crippled. You make me sick. Your whole race is pampered and soft."

"What do you know? You've never cared about anybody but yourself! Just
because we show concern when somebody gets hurt, it doesn't mean we're weak!" Bulma
retaliated. "Maybe if the Saiyans had been more concerned about each other, you and Goku wouldn't be the only ones left alive!"

Vegeta snorted and finished his meal. Her words had stung more than he was willing to show. "You know nothing of it, Woman!" Vegeta snapped before he left to return to the gravity ship. Bulma scowled after him.

"Honestly! That man is impossible!" she dropped roughly into a chair as Yamcha placed a bag of ice on his arm and joined her.

"So why don't you kick him out?" Yamcha offered. "You two fight all the time. Why
let him stay?" Yamcha hated having Vegeta there, so close to Bulma. Even if they did fight like cats and dogs. Bulma sighed and looked a little sad and uncomfortable. She
rotated the cup of tea in front of her with her forefingers as she spoke.

"Because it would be cruel, and I think he's suffered through enough cruelty in his life,"
she answered with her eyes down-cast.

"Huh?" Yamcha blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it. He lost his entire world when he was just a little boy, he was taken from his father and raised to be a sadistic planet destroyer, he's never had a
real friend, he was killed and then accidentally wished back to life and to a different planet, and... I swear, there are whip scars on his shoulders, as if he was beaten once," Bulma listed off. "I know he's arrogant, rude, and a lot of the time I hate his guts, but ...Kami help me, I don't want to add to his problems," she sighed softly as she looked down into her tea. She really didn't want to hurt Vegeta further. She could tell his life had been rough enough.

"I see," Yamcha said in a low voice. He didn't like the way she talked about Vegeta, as if she cared for him. Yamcha knew he was being ridiculous, there was no way Vegeta could win Bulma away from him, but he couldn't help feeling like he did.

Vegeta kicked and punched at the air, Bulma's words ringing through his head. *What do you know? You've never cared about anybody but yourself!* he growled and made his ki level rise. "Why won't it go away?" he snarled, wishing to drive the statements from his mind, but he knew why they wouldn't leave him alone. It was because they weren't true. Vegeta stopped his motions and just hovered for a second. He thought he heard something. It was faint and far away, but growing louder. He realized it was coming from his own mind, and felt an icy stab of panic. He clamped his hands over his ears to keep the sound out. It was the high, sweet laughter of children.

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" he bellowed, wanting the memory-sound to vanish. The
laughter changed to surprised yelps and a thin cry of pain.

"Are you okay?" a little boy's voice asked.

"It hurts!" another little boy's voice answered.

"Here, let me help you," the first boy's voice sounded urgent.

"SHUT UP!" Vegeta bellowed, and then all was silent once more. He began his routine again, viciously attacking the air and blasting the practice bots with his ki.

"I won't remember that," he hissed as he continued his training. "I won't!" But his mind was already dredging it all up. He fought the memories back down and buried them, but the topsoil of denial over them was thin.

Bulma watched as lights flashed out of the windows of the gravity ship. Yamcha had left to let Puar know he was all right, and now Bulma stood alone in the kitchen, studying the light show in her backyard. Wow. What I said must have hit a bigger nerve than I
thought. Well, that spoiled prince needs some humbling every once in awhile. Even if his life has been rough, it didn't make a very big dent in that planetary body he calls his pride.

Bulma nodded to herself. Vegeta would be far more tolerable, in her opinion, if he wasn't so proud and arrogant. If she could bring him down a few notches, she would. She watched the lights for a few minutes more, and then held up a hand. "If I know him, . . ." she whispered, and began counting down with her fingers. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1." at that moment, the gravity ship exploded. Bulma sighed deeply and went to see if Vegeta was conscious this time. He wasn't.

Vegeta stood in darkness and waited for the arrival of Kakarott and the lavender-haired boy. He'd had the dream enough times to know how it would go. Neither of them showed this time, however. Instead, the darkness around him faded to a place he remembered only dimly from his childhood. His father's throne room. "No. . ." he whispered. "Not this. Let me fight Kakarott and that boy!" he yelled at his own subconscious, but it wouldn't obey.

He saw himself, not much more than five years old, enter the room. His father sat on
his throne, and there were two Saiyan Elite standing in front of him, a man and a woman.

"Prince Vegeta," the two Saiyans bowed to him, and he saw that there was a
little boy his own age with them.

"Father, what did you call me for?" Young Vegeta demanded of the imposing
figure on the throne.

"These two have suggested that their son would be a good sparring partner
for you," King Vegeta answered.

"He has a high battle power, as is to be expected of the child of two Elites," the man
said. "We think it would benefit both of you to train together." The woman gently pushed the little boy forward and he kneeled deeply. He was obviously nervous and didn't want to be there.

"Your highness, my name is Yon," the little boy said. He had red-blonde
hair in a small ponytail, big dark eyes, the rounded cheeks of youth, and the developing muscles of a Saiyan warrior. His tail was wrapped tightly around his waist; a little too tightly, for the boy didn't seem to be getting enough blood to his legs. At least, that's why Vegeta assumed they were turning purple.

"So are you asking if I agree with this?" Young Vegeta turned his attention back to his father, who smirked.

"No, I'm just telling you that you're going to train with this boy for a while," King
Vegeta answered. Young Vegeta looked back at the boy, who had dared to stand up
straight without being told to first.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Yon said to the King, and then sent a small smile at Prince Vegeta.

"What makes you think you're worthy to train with me? I doubt you have enough power to keep up," Young Vegeta snorted in contempt. Yon simply shrugged.

"We'll see," he said, and Vegeta lipped the words with him.

"We'll see."

Bulma came into the infirmary to check on the fallen prince. He wasn't too badly off,
but she still worried. She got within five steps of him and froze. A small tear rolled off his cheek. He was crying in his sleep.

"What. . .?" Bulma whispered as she moved a little closer. She'd seen him toss and turn, heard him groan, even heard him threaten Goku in his sleep, but never had she
seen him cry. She wondered what he was dreaming that was bringing him to tears. She felt a small twinge in her heart as she watched him. Vegeta's eyes suddenly snapped open and he roughly wiped the tear away.

"Hey, Vegeta. How are you feeling?" Bulma tired to sound casual, but she was still
thinking of that tear. Vegeta grunted as he raised his head and shoulders from the bed.

"I feel fine," the Saiyan Prince answered as he tried to sit up. He failed in his attempt
and fell back upon the bed. He cussed in his native language to relieve some of his tension. That didn't work, either.

"I'm sure. Hold still a minute while I look you over," Bulma did a remarkable job of
holding back her laughter as she went to him. She examined his injuries and looked at the
varying machines around him while he sat and glared into space. "From the way you fell down, and from what I can see, I'd suggest you rest for the rest of the day and possibly tomorrow before going back to training," she concluded finally. Vegeta's eyes flashed.

"No! I have to keep training! I will beat that idiot Kakarott!" he again struggled to get to his feet. In truth, it was not the thought of Kakarott that drove him to try and stand despite his injuries, it was the fear of falling asleep again and being forced to see more.
Bulma caught him as he tried to stand, and for a moment they froze, he leaning into her, she
holding his shoulders. She took in the smell of his skin, a musky order that was oddly pleasing, and felt the weakness in the muscles under her hands. He inhaled the sweet smell of her hair and hesitated at the warmth of her touch. An urge filled his mind that he mentally slapped away. Bulma gently set him back on the bed.

"Like it or not, Vegeta, you can hardly get up, much less train. Just stay there awhile.
You'll never beat Goku if you kill yourself in the meantime," Bulma observed as she pulled the blanket back over him. "I'll bring you something to eat in a little while, okay?" she smiled at him warmly and left the room. Vegeta stared fixedly at the ceiling.

I won't go to sleep. he instructed himself. He started testing his body, and was greeted with pain with nearly every muscle flexed. He was grateful for the pain, it would keep him awake. He looked away from the ceiling only once, to glance out the window. The sun was setting. He'd been out of it for hours. He also noted that heavy gray clouds were filling the sky.

Bulma moved silently through the kitchen as she prepared some soup and a sandwich for Vegeta. It's odd. . . she thought quietly. It almost felt as if Vegeta just didn't want to lie down again. And that tear. . .what was he dreaming about? she mulled it over as she stirred the soup. She then heaved a sigh. She must be going crazy, worrying about Vegeta like this. He was a bastard, rude, mean, nasty, brutish and short. She chuckled a little. That was actually a button she'd seen once - "Nasty, Brutish, and Short!" It described Vegeta pretty well. Still, though, he did look lonely from time to time. She shook her head sharply to try and force thoughts of Vegeta out. She tried to focus on Yamcha, and his injury. How had he done that, anyway? Somehow, his excuse of something distracting him on TV while he was lifting weights didn't sit well with her. Just what did distract him, anyway? she wondered. She tilted her head to the side a bit as the sound of rain reached her ears. Huh. The weather forecast was right for once. she reflected.

Vegeta was still staring at the ceiling when she brought him his food. He seemed
mesmerized by the lines and texture of the surface over his head, until he heard the click of her shoe on the tile floor. His head snapped over to look at her, even though this caused him discomfort. She stood with a tray of food in her hands, seemingly startled by his abrupt movement, and then finished walking to his bed side. She set the tray down on the desk next to the bed and he opened his mouth to tell her to put it where he could reach it, but he never got the chance.

"Here," she said and helped him sit up. Then she placed the tray in his lap. He looked
at her for a moment, and then started eating quickly. "Oh, please," Bulma sighed softly and rolled her eyes. And then she noticed something; although Vegeta was eating fast, he wasn't eating messily. Not one drop was spilled, not one crumb fell. In fact, despite his great speed, he had pretty decent table manners. The thought was shocking, yet there was the proof. She had an odd desire to have a video camera so she could tape him and watch it later in slow motion to make sure she was right.

Vegeta finished cleaning his plate and drank up the last of the soup. He then grabbed the napkin she'd put on the tray and wiped his hands off. "Thank you," he muttered. Bulma blinked. He'd never thanked her before.

"You're welcome," she smiled a bit and took the tray. "Do you want some more?" Vegeta considered the offer for a few moments.

"Later," he finally said. Bulma's eyes widened to an impossible size, even for her.
Vegeta had never turned down food before! He was like Goku in that respect. Without stopping to think, she put a hand on his forehead to see if he felt feverish.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Vegeta demanded harshly.

"Hm, you feel normal," Bulma said as she removed her hand. Vegeta was glaring at her, his black eyes filled with annoyance. Bulma jerked and stepped away.

"Sorry! It's just not like you to say 'no' to more food!" she explained. Vegeta snorted.

"As you may recall, I ate before my accident," Vegeta observed icily.

"Right, right," Bulma nodded. She still felt a little flustered by her own behavior. "Well, I'll just let you rest, okay?" Bulma smiled and left the room.

"Rest. Humph," Vegeta grunted to himself. He might rest, but he wasn't going back to
sleep. Those words kept going through his mind. I won't sleep. I won't remember. I won't sleep. I won't remember. Eventually, despite his determination, he did drift
off, but he didn't dream.

Bulma stirred as she felt the warm morning sun on her face. She rolled over and
snuggled deeper into her blankets. Her thoughts were still fuzzy with sleep, and she had no desire to get up yet. Then she heard something bumping around in the kitchen.
((What. . .?)) her clouded thoughts conjured up the word, and when the noises continued, her eyelids opened and her mind reentered the land of the awake. The noises got louder for a moment, and then died off. Bulma got up and threw on some clothes, then went to check it out.

She pushed the door to the kitchen open and carefully peeked through. The place looked like someone had gone through it and devoured most of what he'd found. She stepped inside and ran to the window.

Just as she'd expected, she could see Vegeta heading to the new gravity room. She and her father had about four of them in capsule form now. He was removing his bandages
as he went, completely ignoring the fact that he still needed most of them.

"Wh-why that stupid, foolhardy. . .!" Bulma gasped, and ran after him.

"Mm?" Vegeta could feel Bulma heading for him. He quickly jogged over to the gravity room and opened the door. He didn't feel like arguing with her first thing in
the morning.

"VEGETA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" her voice stopped him short. He sighed a
bit.

((Looks like we're going to fight, anyway.)) he thought. He turned to face her.

"I'm getting back to my training, what does it look like?" he snapped sharply as she came
running up to him. Her face held the same expression it had the other day for Yamcha, a
mixture of worry and anger.

"Vegeta, you're still hurt! You can't go back to training yet!" she put her hands on her
hips and used her most commanding tone. She had to get him back to the med bay.
If it wouldn't have been futile to try, she would have grabbed him and dragged him
back. But he was obviously better enough now that he could resist her.

"I'm fine, Woman! I'm not like that weak man you spend so much time with!" Vegeta
half-snarled.

"What does Yamcha have to do with this?" Bulma blinked, and then got back on topic.
"Whether you're as weak as a human or not, your body still needs time to recover!"

"My body is recovered enough!" Vegeta answered and took a step into the gravity room.

"Hold it!" Bulma grabbed his arm to keep him from going any further. "Look at yourself! You're barely able to stand straight! You're not well enough yet to go back to
training!" she insisted.

"I'm not that badly hurt! Release me, Woman!" Vegeta roughly pulled his arm from
Bulma's hands.

"Damn it, Vegeta! Do you want to kill yourself? Is that it?" Bulma yelled at his back.
Vegeta froze for a moment, and she continued. "How can you ever hope to beat Goku if you never give your body a chance to heal? You'll just end up doing yourself more
harm than good! You can't get stronger if you're half-dead!" Vegeta looked at her over her his shoulder.

"You are stupider than I thought. Don't you know anything? Saiyans get stronger when
they almost die! So, in essence, half-killing myself would help!" Vegeta barked as he turned to face her once more. He had had enough of her so-called concern for one morning. He didn't feel much pain, and besides, it was true that Saiyans got stronger after coming back from near-death. Normally, he enjoyed a good verbal-sparring with the Earth woman, it tested his wits and got his heart rate up. But today, after the memories that came back to him the previous day, he didn't want to.

"Why do I even bother with you?!" Bulma yelled in his face.

"I have no idea and frankly, I don't care! I didn't ask you to help me or come here and
lecture me!" Vegeta yelled back, feeling grateful that fight looked to be almost over. To his surprise, she didn't waver or even cringe.

"You are my guest here, Vegeta! And Kami help me, I worry about you sometimes! You live here for free, you eat our food, and you use our med bay, which, by the way, has gone through a year's supply of bandages on you in the past three months! The least you could do is show me a little respect and kindness! I have my dignity, too, you know!" she
bellowed, and with that Bulma stormed off, but tripped on a rock and fell into a mud puddle created by the previous evening's rain before she got too far. She sat up, caked in mud and sputtering, and glared at Vegeta as he suppressed a laugh.

"Not so dignified now, eh, Woman?" he remarked, and started to offer her a hand up.

"Oh, like you look all that dignified. . .," she started as she gathered up a handful of mud.

Vegeta's mind suddenly snapped into memory. Bulma no longer sat in front of him, he was staring down on Yon, who had fallen into the mud after Vegeta had pushed him.

"Like you look all that dignified, Your Highness!" Yon threw a ball of mud at him. It hit him square in the face.

"How dare you throw mud at your Prince!" Vegeta cried, and threw some mud at Yon.
They began flinging mud balls at each other as fast as they could, until they fell over in the mud together and laughed themselves sick at how silly they looked. That was when they became friends as well as sparring partners. His father had yelled at them for acting
like such bakas, but every time the King's back was turned, Yon would make faces at him.

Soon, Vegeta was doing it too. Until Frieza spoke up.

"Don't be so hard on the boys, King Vegeta. They look cute that way, especially with
those faces," the tyrant lord observed, and the boys froze for a minute, their eyes wide, and then snapped to attention as King Vegeta turned around to look at them.

"Vegeta?" Bulma's voiced echoed through his mind. He had frozen, his face
transfixed with a strange blend of surprise, shock, and. . .fear? Vegeta shook his head
suddenly and came back to the present. He looked at the mud soaked woman in front of him and realized she'd thrown some mud on him, and had left muddy hand prints where she had touched his face in concern. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You just sort of stopped for a minute."

"Humph. I'm all right! I'm going to wash up," he turned and left. Part of him wondered, though, if he had responded when she threw the mud, would it have been a complete re-enactment of that day with Yon, with the two of them laughing at their muddy appearance?

((I'm going crazy.)) he decided at last. Then another thought occurred to him. He had walked by the mud puddle on his way to the gravity ship, and had made a mental note of
where it was so he could avoid it later. But there hadn't been a rock in front of it before.
Just grass. Vegeta furrowed his brow, wondering how he had over looked the large, gray stone Bulma had tripped over.

Bulma looked down at herself and decided a shower and a change of clothes
was a good idea. As she stepped back into the house, she had the sudden thought of locking all of the doors and windows to make sure Vegeta couldn't get outside to the gravity ship. She disregarded the thought a second later. If he was feeling polite, Vegeta would just simply pull a door off its hinges to get back out. If he wasn't feeling polite, he would take out a door and most of the wall around it with a ki blast. And at the moment, she could tell he wasn't feeling polite. She walked past his room and saw him removing his muddy shirt. He then stormed across the hall and past her to get to the bathroom to wash his face and chest where the mud hit. Bulma peeked in at him and felt her cheeks grow hot. Bastard that he was, Vegeta was still physically attractive.

Though he was shorter than Yamcha, and not as broad, Vegeta was more muscular
than Yamcha was. As she looked at him, her eyes were pulled to his numerous scars, and she again felt the faint twinge of pity she always felt when she saw them. She then retreated down the hall to take a shower. A cold shower.

Vegeta tilted his head to the side as he felt her go. He snorted softly.

((Hope she enjoyed the show.)) he thought as he grabbed a towel to dry his face. He paused for a moment as he heard water turning on somewhere else in the house. If she was taking a shower, that left him plenty of time to get into the gravity ship and lock the door. He looked himself over and again came to the conclusion he was well enough to train. Granted, certain muscles still ached a bit, but a little pain wouldn't stop him. ((Was she really worried about me?)) he wondered out of the blue. He mentally stepped away from the thought and stared at it. ((What does it matter if she was worried about me?)) he demanded of himself. He waited for an answer, and then to his surprise, he got one. ((If she was worried, then she cares.)) He stared at his reflection in the mirror wide-eyed, as if it was the source of the offending thoughts. ((So what if she cares?! I don't care! Not about her! Not about this planet! I only care about becoming stronger than Kakarott! Being the strongest fighter in the universe has always been the only thing I ever gave a rat's ass about!)) he scowled deeply at his reflection, which, of course, scowled back. ((That's a lie, and you know it.)) his reflection seemed to say. ((You cared about Yon.))

Vegeta froze for a moment, his blood cold in his chest. ((I won't remember anymore.)) he stepped back from the mirror. ((And you care about h. . .)) his reflection started in, but Vegeta ended the inner conversation then and there. He turned and left the bathroom and the house, not bothering with getting a new shirt, and went into the gravity ship. He felt like he had two him's in his head, a sane him and an insane him. ((I WON'T remember and I DON'T care.)) he told himself as he once again turned up the gravity as high as he could stand it. ((What did Freiza teach us because of Yon? Caring only brings pain!)) he snarled to the part of him that had been represented by his reflection in the mirror.

As the water poured over her and she washed the mud off, Bulma quietly contemplated
her feelings. ((I love Yamcha, but. . .)) her thoughts trailed off as a picture of Vegeta filled her mind. ((Okay, harsh-reality time, Bulma girl. I'm attracted to Vegeta.)) she
made herself face it, and felt still more underneath it. ((And I'm concerned about him. He seems set on destroying himself if he can't accomplish his goals. I don't know why I even care, except maybe I've gotten used to him. He doesn't scare me at all anymore. He just pisses me off from time to time. Although sometimes I get the feeling he likes fighting with me.)) she lathered her hair and sighed softly as she rinsed the shampoo out. ((I need to see Yamcha. Thank goodness we have a date tonight.)) she thought as she lathered her hair again. Something still felt wrong, though.

She wondered what it was. She hoped the feeling would go away soon. Bulma tilted her head back to let the water pour over her face and through her hair, and suddenly found her mind filled with the image of Vegeta crying in his sleep. ((What would bring the mighty Prince of the Saiyans to tears?)) she wondered, and then thought about what she'd said before about his life being rough. ((A dream from his past, maybe?)) it seemed to be the only logical conclusion.

Vegeta fired a ki blast at the robots that hovered in the air around him. As always, it rebounded from robot to robot, and Vegeta dodged it as it came flying back at him. The back of his mind was still trying to bring up the past, and he was still battling it back for all he was worth. The ki blast suddenly punched through the wall. The hole was high in
the wall, and Vegeta floated up to it to see if it would be a problem. So far as he could
tell, the hole wouldn't affect the operation of the ship, and he was about to go back to training when his eyes caught sight of something. Bulma, clad in nothing but a towel, standing by her window and looking down on the gravity ship. He wasn't sure, but he thought her face was filled with concern and disappointment. For a moment, she didn't see him watching her through the new window in the ship. Then she did, and her face became red with embarrassment as she pulled her curtains closed. Vegeta considered flying up to her window and asking what the problem was, but he already knew and he didn't feel like getting slapped (not that she could hurt him) and being told he was a pervert. He chuckled to himself lightly. Still, though, his heart was pounding a bit from what he'd seen. His mind began conjuring up images of Bulma in the towel, and then without and in his arms. While these images were preferable to the ones his brain had been trying to get him to see, he still cast them aside and tried to focus just on training.

Damn it, concentrate! Okay, yes, for a weak, stupid human, she's attractive. But I
don't want to. . .want to. . ALL RIGHT, MAYBE I DO! BUT I'M NOT GOING TO LET HER KNOW THAT!!! he snapped at himself. Yes, he wanted to touch her! Yes, he wanted to hold her! Yes, he wanted her smile for himself! Yes, he wanted that weak man who she said she loved to go to hell and leave her free! I'm completely out of my mind! Vegeta grunted as he threw himself into his training. Remember! Remember what you learned all those years ago! Caring only brings pain!

Bulma dried off and dressed rapidly, her face still red. "Kami! I can't believe. . .what
he'd do, make that hole so he could spy on me?" she muttered as she pulled her clothes on. She knew that was ridiculous, the hole was an accident, and besides, he couldn't spy
on her through it even if it was on purpose. She was just so humiliated, she didn't care.
He'd seen her practically naked! Of course, that was only because she'd gone to the window to see if he'd gone to the gravity room. And it wasn't like she hadn't seen a good deal of him. . .she'd been in the room when he was in the shower when he first came back to Earth. Granted, the glass was wavy on the shower stall, but she could still make out most of him. That was the first time she'd seen his many scars, including the thin ones that were around the tops of his shoulder blades that she believed came from a whip. She sighed a bit as she finished dressing and left her room.

"Good morning, Bulma!" her mother chirped as Bulma walked down the hall. Bulma smiled at her.

"Morning, Mama," Bulma said.

"I saw that Vegeta already had his breakfast. Have you eaten yet?" Mrs. Briefs asked
cheerfully.

"No, not yet," Bulma put a hand on her stomach and felt it rumble emptily.

"Well, come on then. I was about to make pancakes," Mrs. Briefs smiled and waltzed to the kitchen.

"That's presuming there's any eggs left to use," Bulma muttered as she recalled the
condition Vegeta left the kitchen in. She joined her mother in the kitchen and helped gather up the ingredients for the pancakes.

In the gravity ship, Vegeta sat down for a moment. His side was killing him, and his leg throbbed. Maybe that annoying Woman was right after all. he thought, and then dismissed the thought. He just needed to rest a few minutes, and then he'd be fine. He
closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths. His sleep had been light and not entirely restful the night before, and without meaning to he fell asleep.

He was looking at a familiar training room. "Oh no. . .No! Not more of this!" Vegeta's
entire body tensed as he watched himself sparring with Yon. He had been wrong about Yon not keeping up; the boy was very capable and quite strong. They often ended up in a
draw. They were moving about quickly, punching and kicking at each other. Vegeta stood by silently, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. It didn't make any difference, he could still see it. They were laughing a bit, having fun practicing with someone their own age. They only stopped when they heard the door open.

"Hey, what's up? We're not done yet!" Yon said to the door, even though they didn't see anybody in the doorway.

"Our time isn't up!" Young Vegeta said at the same time.

"We know, Your Highness," Nappa's voice said. "We just thought we'd make your
training session a little more vigorous!"

"What, are you gonna join us?" Young Vegeta mocked his bodyguard.

"No, but they are," Nappa's voice chuckled, and over two dozen Saibamen leaped into the room. The door then closed again.

"Huh?!" Yon blinked at the green creatures. "Who said they could do this?" he looked at his friend.

"Not me, that's for sure! I'm going to have a long talk with Nappa when we're done,"
Young Vegeta scowled a bit. Then he sent Yon a smile. "Until then, let's show these green goons they're no match for the Prince of the Saiyans and his right-hand man!"
Yon returned the smile.

"Let's get 'em!" Yon said, and with that they lunged at the Saibamen. Vegeta almost
smiled. The fight had been brief. Between himself and Yon, the Saibamen were completely out-classed. He watched his younger self and his best friend as they reduced
the Saibamen into quivering piles of goo. They ended up back-to-back, and let out one final ki attack to finish the job. The force of their kis made them both fly backwards, and their heads collided. They dropped to their rumps and held their heads.

"Ow!" they both moaned, and then grinned at each other and flashed a thumbs-up. They laughed and mocked the Saibamen, and started sparring with each other again, all the while celebrating their triumph.

Vegeta awoke with a start. He cursed softly at himself for falling asleep. He swallowed dryly and decided to get some water before he continued. He pushed himself to his feet and left the gravity ship.

Mrs. Briefs had left the kitchen for a moment to make sure her husband was awake and
up, leaving Bulma to tend to the pancakes. Bulma was flipping one pancake over in the frying pan when Vegeta slammed the door open. The noise startled Bulma greatly, and
she jumped.

The skillet was pulled up and off the burner, and Bulma's left hand landed in the open gas flame. She screamed, dropped her spatula, and ran to the sink, pouring cold water over her burned hand. Vegeta's mind suddenly flew back to the incident he had dreamed
of. The rest of the memory came to him then - he and Yon had continued to spar until he kicked Yon's knee so hard it broke.

"Are you okay?" he asked his fallen friend.

"It hurts!" Yon whimpered.

"Here, let me help you," Young Vegeta had helped Yon to his feet and down to the
doctor's. Yon hadn't been mad at all. It was there in the medical building they made their
promise.

"I'm gonna be the strongest fighter in the universe!" Yon proclaimed.

"I'm gonna be the strongest," Young Vegeta corrected.

"Well, you're the prince, so I guess I gotta let you. Okay, I'll just be a really close
second then, okay?" Yon smiled, and Vegeta took his hand.

"It's a promise!" Young Vegeta said, and they laughed.

"Damn it, Vegeta! Couldn't you have knocked or something?" Bulma asked as
she continued to pour cold water over her hand. Vegeta, while in his flashback, had
moved to the freezer. He felt guilty for surprising Bulma like that; he felt as though he
had pushed her hand into that flame. Bulma's words brought him fully back to the present, and he took a dishtowel and filled it with ice. He then went over to Bulma. He placed his hand under hers as the water continued flowing over it, the early morning sunlight catching in the water and making it gold.

Bulma paused for a moment as Vegeta gently removed her hand from the water and
placed the make-shift ice pack on it, his hand still under hers.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said softly. Bulma was taken aback. Vegeta
had never apologized for anything! First he thanked her, now he was saying he was sorry? What was going on with him? Bulma looked right into his eyes and felt herself freeze. The sunlight coming from the window above the sink seemed to halo his body, and filled his eyes with a sparkling light. He looked almost. . .Angelic. If he was an angel, his wings would be black. the thought came to her. Or maybe. . .white with black tips. She looked the same way to Vegeta. He could almost see wings made of sunlight coming from her shoulders.

Bulma felt her heart rate jump. There was something in his eyes that seemed to call to her. Loneliness, pain,. . .and something more. . . she thought. Vegeta still held her hand, and he lifted the ice a moment to look at it.

"It's not that bad," his voice was still low. The skin was red, but didn't appear to be blistering.

"No, I guess not. . ." Bulma swallowed nervously. She and Vegeta were drawing closer, their lips almost touching. . .she closed her eyes, and felt his warm breath on her face as he got closer still, holding her hurt hand between them. And then Dr. and Mrs. Briefs came through the door. Vegeta moved away from Bulma quickly, leaving the ice pack in her hand.

"Bulma dear, how are the pancakes. . .huh?" Mrs. Briefs stared at her daughter and house guest, who were both a little short of breath and uneasy.

"Did we. . .interrupt anything?" Dr. Briefs gazed at Vegeta disapprovingly.

"Nothing!" Vegeta said harshly as he got the glass of water he had originally come to get. He filled the glass and then downed it all in one gulp. "Since your hand's all right, I'm going back to training."

"Wait a minute, what was. . .?" Bulma moved forward.

"A moment of insanity!" Vegeta answered coldly. Bulma pulled back, hurt.

"I learned a long time ago. . .caring only brings pain." he muttered deeply, but Bulma heard it. He left the building and went back to the gravity ship in the backyard. Bulma was left to wonder at what he had said.

Caring. . .only brings pain? What could have happened to him to make him believe that? she wondered. She went over everything that had just happened, and was left befuddled by her own behavior. She had almost let Vegeta kiss her! She had almost kissed Vegeta!

What in the world is wrong with me? she put a hand on her chest and mentally
ordered her heart to slow down. She was so grateful she had a date with Yamcha that night!

She needed to remind herself of how much she loved him. I love Yamcha. She strove to reassure herself, yet something about the words felt. . .hollow. Her heart began pounding in fear. She did love Yamcha! She did! She was snapped out of her reverie by the smell of smoke.

"Bulma! The pancake is burning!" Mrs. Briefs cried out as she went to get the pancake
out of the frying pan.

"Oh, geez! I'm sorry, Mama!" Bulma went to help. "It's just. . .Vegeta startled me, and
I burned my hand, and I must have left the frying pan on the fire while I was tending my hand!" Bulma explained rapidly.

"That Vegeta is nothing but trouble. If we didn't need him to fight these artificial
humans that are coming in the future, I'd stop building those gravity rooms and tell him to
leave," Dr. Briefs stated as he opened the morning paper, though his eyes were on his daughter. Bulma gave a small snort. She loved her father, but she knew he wouldn't dare tell off Vegeta.

Vegeta trained for the rest of the day, not stepping out of the gravity ship even for lunch. He had made up his mind about one thing; he was leaving this planet as soon as he had defeated the artificial humans and Kakarott. Whatever was happening to him, Bulma seemed to be the cause of it, and so if he could just get away from her for good, he should go back to normal. But the artificial humans weren't due for another two years. He hoped he could hold out that long.

The flashbacks and memory-dreams he was experiencing were being triggered by
things Bulma said and did, some of it because it echoed what had happened with Yon so
closely. But Yon had only been his friend, what he felt for Bulma was different. Vegeta gave a howl of fury as he unleashed more of his ki. He was here to train, to become better than Kakarott! He wasn't going to get involved with that human woman! Vegeta continued in his vigorous training until he saw Bulma leave. Feeling a bit relieved, he slipped out of the ship and grabbed a quick meal.

He then went back to making himself stronger. That night, he cranked the gravity up to 500.

Bulma glanced at her watch as she walked up to the cafe where she was to meet Yamcha. Her hand was fine, and didn't even have any marks. She had styled her hair,
with thick curls on the bottom, and was wearing a new dress. She had spent close to an hour perfecting her make-up, and she was ready to wow him. She walked, unknowingly, straight into heart break.

Yamcha sat inside the cafe, waiting for Bulma. His hand and wrist were still bandaged, and he rested them on the table. A young, blonde woman waltzed up to him
casually. She was very attractive and well endowed, and Yamcha made no objections as she struck up a conversation. As Bulma entered the cafe, the beautiful blonde had leaned in to kiss the blushing Yamcha on the lips. Yamcha, unaware of Bulma's presence, made no move to resist. Bulma caught sight of him in the middle of the kiss. She was frozen for a minute, and then she felt her rage explode. She'd suspected he was interested in other women, but had told herself she was being silly. Faced with the truth, she was ready to kill him.

"Yamcha!" She yelled, and Yamcha jerked away from the blonde.

"B-Bulma?!" Yamcha jumped to his feet and tried to wipe the lipstick off his face. The
blonde smirked at her.

"You. . .good for nothing, two-timing, whoring piece of. . .!" Bulma was raging.

"No, wait! Let me explain!" Yamcha flustered, but knew he couldn't explain. His brain had taken a day trip and forgotten to take the rest of him with it. When he looked into Bulma's eyes, he saw more than just anger and heartbreak. Something told him this was worse than their usual fights. He almost saw what was coming before it came.

"There's nothing TO explain! I've had it, Yamcha! I've had it with the disappoints, with the betrayals! It's OVER!" Bulma slapped him in the face and fought back her tears.

"You've said that before," Yamcha said in a low voice. "Once you calm down, we can
talk. . ." he started, and reached for her. Bulma hit his hand away.

"No. I really mean it this time. Whatever it was we thought we had, it's dead and gone. Just like our relationship. I'll see you in two years, Yamcha, when the trouble
comes. Until then, just. . .STAY OUT OF MY LIFE!!" she nearly screamed, then turned and ran from the cafe. She jumped into her hover car, which was in the parking lot, and flew away. Strangely, all she could think of on the drive back to Capsule Corp was how Vegeta had held her hand that morning, and how they had nearly kissed.

When Bulma reached her home, she ran from the hover car and straight into her room.
She flung herself upon her bed and cried into her pillow. Her mother came in, along with her father.

"Bulma, dear, what's the matter?" Mrs. Briefs asked. Bulma sat up a bit and told them
what had happened between strangled sobs. In the gravity ship, Vegeta glanced at the light in Bulma's window and wondered idly why she was back so early, and what all the
noise was about. He switched off the gravity for a moment, and stepped outside. Now that he could hear a little better, he could make out Bulma crying and talking to her parents, who sounded concerned.

He couldn't quite tell what they were saying, but he had a feeling that the scarred human called Yamcha had finally blown it with Bulma. Vegeta almost smiled to himself, but it
came out his usual smirk. That sat just fine with him. He was tired of seeing that weakling around anyway. His spirits greatly lightened, Vegeta went back into the ship to finish his training for the night. Part of him considered going to her and seeing if she was okay, but he ignored that part for the moment being. He had a feeling that he was the last person she'd want to see right now.

A week passed in silence for Bulma and Vegeta. They made it a point to avoid each
other, as they both felt uncomfortable with the other. Vegeta continued to dream of Yon, his mind calling up memories of happy childhood times with his first, best, and only
friend, of the sparring matches and games they'd sneak off to play, and of the trouble those
games tended to get them in. Bulma thought of Yamcha and was left to contemplate where things went wrong with them. She nursed her broken heart and reflected back on happier times, when all seemed right with the world, and every once in a while she'd secretly check on Vegeta to make sure he wasn't pushing himself too hard. Still, despite their efforts to avoid one another, they'd bump into each other every now and again, and every time they did, they were both left to wonder at the ever-increasing loneliness and pain they saw in the other's eyes.

It was nearly two weeks after her break up with Yamcha, and Bulma was lying awake
again. She sighed deeply and threw off her covers. If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well do something useful. She decided to get something to drink and then head for her
workshop for a few hours. Hopefully, some work would tire her out and let her sleep. As she headed for the kitchen to get some water, she made a small detour to see if Vegeta was in his room or if he was training through the night. His door was closed, and she opened it just a little to look inside. Vegeta was in bed, his blanket down around his waist, his face contorted with whatever it was he was dreaming. Bulma caught her breath. Tears glittered on his cheek; he was crying in his sleep again! In that moment, she would have given anything to be privy to his dreams. She wished she could soothe him.

In Vegeta's dreams, he was again with Yon. King Vegeta had had enough of the troublesome two, and had made a declaration that didn't sit well with the boys.

"You have been disobedient and a troublemaker ever since you met up with that boy," King Vegeta glared down on his son and his son's sparring partner. Young Vegeta snorted.

"With all due respect, I was disobedient and a troublemaker long before I knew Yon," he smirked at his father.

"Yes, but now you're being blatant about it! I've decided that the two of you will only spar for a certain amount of time each day, and except for that, you're not to see each other any more!" the King declared, and the boys jumped to their feet.

"What?!" Yon yelped.

"You can't do that!" Young Vegeta cried out in rage.

"I am the King, and what I say is law. There will be extra guards around both of you to make sure you don't see each other," the King turned and left then. The two boys looked at each other in distress. They were the only friends they'd ever had!

"I have an idea!" Yon suddenly leaned in close to Young Prince Vegeta.

"What is it?" Young Vegeta whispered.

"Let's hide in the woods! We'll leave a message that says we'll come back when they agree to let us play together again!" Yon explained. Young Vegeta nodded. Yon was good at coming up with quick plans. He was one of the smartest people Young Vegeta had ever met.

Guards came in then to separate the two boys.

"I'll write the message. Meet me by the Mountain Tree in an hour!" Young Vegeta
whispered one more time, and then the guards told them to move along and they went their separate ways. An hour later, they met by the Mountain Tree, which was the tallest tree in the forest behind the palace, thus the name 'Mountain Tree,' and they headed off deep into the woods. Too deep, because once it got dark, they got lost. They couldn't see the mountain tree, and they couldn't see the palace. They wandered around for a while before they made camp in a small opening. Young Vegeta started a fire while Yon caught some dinner. They sat side-by-side and listened to the noises in the woods as they ate. Young Vegeta was scared, but didn't show it. He was willing to bet Yon was scared too, but he also knew to act calm.

They finally decided to try and get some sleep, and laid down with their backs touching so they'd know the other was there.

"Vegeta?" Yon's voice said softly.

"Yeah?" Vegeta opened one eye.

"I'm sorry. This wasn't as good an idea as I thought it was," Yon said.

"It's a good plan. Once the sun comes up, we'll be able to see the mountain tree and the palace again, you'll see. Now, go to sleep," Young Vegeta stated simply, and they fell into silence. Until the thundering footsteps came.

The ground trembled a little with every thumping sound, and a low, growling noise accompanied both of them. Young Vegeta began imagining a hungry monster that was coming to eat them. The noises got louder and closer, and he began to tremble. Yon was doing the same. When the noises were almost on top of them, Yon spoke again.

"Vegeta? I don't wanna be eaten!" Yon squeaked, evidently thinking of the same things as Vegeta.

"Me neither!" Young Vegeta agreed, and when a nearby tree fell over, they both jumped and screamed. They grabbed each other in their panic, and continued screaming.

Then Vegeta snapped out of it. "What are we doing?!" he looked at Yon, who was also surprised at their behavior.

"We are Saiyan Elite!" Yon said firmly, and they let go of each other.

"We can handle any old forest monster!" they said together, and were about to stand up and make ready to fight the monster when they were hit in the face with headlights.

"That's a good question! What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked. The
boys nearly grabbed each other again when they realized they'd been found. . .by Lord
Frieza!

"Lord Frieza!" the boys both squeaked this time, and bowed. The "thumping
footsteps" and "growling" were the sounds of the search robot that was behind Frieza. It would have been better if they'd been found by King Vegeta! Hell, they would've been better off if it had actually been a forest monster!

"Lord Frieza, you were. . .looking for us?" Young Vegeta ventured.

"Not really. I was just curious as to why the search bots were out. Well, now that I've found you, I'd better take you home. I'm sure your fathers are concerned," Frieza chuckled evilly, and the boys quietly followed him back to the palace.

Vegeta awoke with a start. He was growing tired of these dreams. He didn't mind
remembering Yon, but he knew how it was going to finish. He couldn't bring up any memories of him without facing the end. That was why he kept crying in his sleep. He
knew what was coming. He sighed, and wiped the tears off his face. It was morning, so he steeled his mind against the memories and got ready for another day of training. He went to get some breakfast before he headed to the gravity ship, and found Bulma sitting alone in the kitchen drinking some coffee. Their eyes locked, and for a moment neither of them knew what to say. Vegeta finally gave a small grunt and went about making his breakfast.

"Sleep well?" Bulma inquired gently. She'd made up her mind that she was going to find out what Vegeta was dreaming about that was making him cry. She watched him
stiffen a little.

"Well enough," he said shortly as he pulled out three boxes of cereal and a package of
frozen waffles.

"You sure? You have rings under your eyes," Bulma said carefully. She stood up and
moved closer to him. She knew she didn't look much better, since she hadn't slept very much the previous night either. And when she had slept, she'd had a very strange
dream.

"Bad dreams," he muttered as he fixed his breakfast.. He regretted saying it the moment it was out of his mouth.

"About what?" Bulma asked, relieved he'd made it so easy. Her own dream hovered at
the back of her mind. She wondered if sharing it would help get Vegeta to share his dreams.

"The past," he grumbled. He didn't know why he was telling her as much as he was.
Bulma felt a tiny wave of triumph that her guess had been correct.

"What about the past?" she spoke softly, hoping to encourage him to continue. She
could practically see his defenses going up.

"None of your business!" Vegeta snapped, and was about to end the conversation entirely when Bulma touched his shoulder. He looked deep into her eyes, and saw his own loneliness reflected in them.

"You can talk to me about it, if you want," Bulma offered. In her dream, she'd been in a small row boat on a black sea. Vegeta was in the water, being pulled down by the waves. She'd pulled him out of the darkness, and realized her skin was glowing. There was also a dim glow on his skin. Then the dark waves reached up and tried to pull him down again.

She'd spent the night warding the darkness off with her light. Now that she thought about it, there had to be some symbolism in all of that. Vegeta was still for a moment. His mind was filled with the near kiss they'd had two weeks before.

"It wouldn't help," Vegeta answered, his heart pounding a little faster than normal.

"You never know," Bulma could see that whatever it was, it was hurting him deeply.

Suddenly, rational thought was discarded as he leaned closer. Not another near miss. she thought, and leaned into him as well.

Their lips met, and Bulma felt lightening shoot down to her toes. Vegeta held her close, and Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck. Their hearts beat as one, and their combined heartache made tears once again flow from their eyes. Their tears fell and blended together, and they seemed to stay that way a long time until Vegeta heard approaching footsteps. Regretfully, he broke the kiss and moved away from her.

Her parents entered the room a minute later, and not another word passed between them. But Bulma had a feeling she understood her dream now. The light coming from her wasn't ki, but ((oh, how corny!)) goodness, and the dark waves were evil. If that was so, then Vegeta had some goodness in him that she could see. She had a feeling she'd be pondering that idea for a long time to come.

Vegeta was raging an inner war with himself, fighting back his own heart and repeating
to himself again and again that caring only brings pain. Bulma was slightly off-balance herself, as she kept remembering the kiss, and the feeling of his body against hers.

More time passed, and she continued to watch Vegeta, who drew more and more into himself the more he wanted to reach out. His eyes became haunted, and Bulma found herself longing to hold him again. It had felt right, being in his arms and he being in hers. But she still caught herself thinking of Yamcha from time to time.

Finally, almost a month after Bulma and Yamcha's initial break-up, Bulma decided to go out on the town for a while to clear her head.

That same night, Vegeta was planning on training until dawn. He didn't dare fall asleep, because he knew what was coming. This was the Last Night. All the other
memories had been presented to him, there was only one left. And he couldn't face it. It was so long ago. Why does it still hurt so much? he thought as he did his 10,000th push-up. He then switched to sit-ups.

Bulma walked down the street quietly, looking at the brightly lit stores and watching as
people walked past her. She paused in front of one store and stared at a shining white wedding dress hanging in the window. She sighed deeply and continued on. I think
I'll get something to eat at an expensive restaurant. she thought. She headed straight for her favorite spot, The Golden Pheasant.

Vegeta fired a ki blast at the practice robot, and as always it rebounded. He watched the ball of energy ricochet from bot to bot, until it flew past one. Vegeta figured that was the end of that energy ball, until it unexpectedly bounced back. Vegeta was stunned,
there was nothing there for it to have rebounded off of. It was as if it had been caught and
thrown back. The ball hit Vegeta square in the chest and he hit the wall head-first. As he slumped to the ground and fell into unconsciousness, all he could think of was that something had to have planned this.

Bulma ordered a big meal and waited for it to arrive. She stuffed her face with her salad and bread, and quietly considered everything she'd been going through recently.
Yamcha was a thing of the past, but what to do about Vegeta? She was drawn to him, and it made her nervous.

Vegeta was dangerous, not to mention a technical bad guy. Still, though, he seemed so lonely recently. Kinda like me. she smiled a little to herself. Maybe he just needs someone to care about him. Maybe he wouldn't be on such a destruction binge if he knew someone wanted him, and was happy to have him. She rolled the thought around in her mind for a bit, and then laughed it off. Oh, yeah, I'm really sure! she thought. As to her dream, that's all it was - a dream. Her dinner finally arrived and she ate rapidly. It made her feel a little better. She then ordered the double chocolate mousse cake for dessert. She was halfway done with her cake when she caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye.

Vegeta watched his younger self and Yon get summoned onto separate missions. They
ran, full of youthful energy and excitement, to their separate space pods, waving to each other as they went.

"We'll spar some more when we both get back, okay?" Young Vegeta said.

"Right! See you later!" Yon nodded, and leaped backwards into his pod.

Young Vegeta made himself comfortable in his own pod, and then they blasted off in different directions. Young Vegeta watched Yon's pod fly away into the distance with the rest of his team.

Bulma turned around to see Yamcha walking past the restaurant through a window. And he wasn't alone. A woman walked with him, with curly red hair piled high on her
head and flashing green eyes. Bulma felt as though her heart had been ripped completely
out of her chest.

Somehow, she hadn't expected this. She hadn't thought he'd just go out and find another girl so quickly. Didn't he even care they were no longer together?

Vegeta's dream continued. He didn't remember the mission, but he remembered coming back from it. His ship landed with a small bounce on the catching pad, and he
got out of the ship triumphantly. He looked around, and spotted the members of Yon's team quietly leaving the landing area.

"Hey!" he called out and ran over to them. "Where's Yon?"

"He was. . .caught by surprise," a woman he recognized as Yon's mother answered.

"Is he badly hurt? Is he in the healing tank?" Young Vegeta started to move to the
medical wing. The woman stopped him.

"No,. . .he. . ." she started softly, and then Young Vegeta saw Yon's father. He was
carrying something. Young Vegeta ran up to him, but stopped short as he realized what was in Yon's father's arms. It was Yon, his armor cracked and bloody. Everything
seemed to snap into slow motion, as Young Vegeta stared at his friend's broken body, his eyes drawn unerringly to Yon's pale, battered, and obviously dead face.

"YOOONN!!!" the scream tore from him before he could stop it. It seemed to echo, loud to the point of being deafening. Everything began spinning, and Vegeta heard his father and Frieza, though he didn't see them.

"You should learn from this! Caring only brings pain!" Frieza's voice was almost
mocking.

"Stop acting weak!" his father's voice was hard and cold. Vegeta saw himself again,
curled into a small ball, and whispering again and again Frieza's words.

"Caring. . .only brings pain."

Vegeta snapped awake. He took in a slow breath and let the grief come. Yon had died
three weeks before Frieza had destroyed Planet Vegeta.

Bulma had finished her cake and paid for her meal as quickly as she could. She then ran out onto the sidewalk and saw Yamcha nearby with the red-head on his arm. Her mind floated the image of the woman he'd been with before in front of her eyes. She had been blonde, and taller than the woman he was with now. It was someone else entirely! Bulma turned and ran back to her car. She drove back to Capsule Corp in much the same condition she was in when she first broke up with Yamcha.

Once Vegeta had gotten himself under control, he went to the kitchen for something to
drink. He glanced around at the empty kitchen and reflected on how many things had happened between himself and Bulma here over the past several weeks. He sighed, got a
glass out of the cupboard, and went to the refrigerator.

Bulma stumbled into the kitchen, crying. Through her blurred vision, she could see
Vegeta getting something out of the refrigerator. Her knees were on the verge of buckling, and without knowing why or even actually thinking about what she was doing, she ran
to him and fell against his back, surprising him. He had heard her enter, and was about to
turn around to see why she was crying when she fell against him.

"You were right! It's not worth it! Caring only brings pain!" she sobbed, and Vegeta crushed the glass of juice he was holding.

"What. . . happened?" he asked, not sure why he had reacted the way he just did. Bulma swallowed a few times to try and clear her throat.

"I saw Yamcha. . .while I was in town. He was. . .with another girl, and it wasn't even
the same one I saw him with before! It really is over!" she sobbed again against Vegeta's bare back, and he drew in a slow breath. What am I doing? I don't care! Caring only. . . Vegeta shoved the thought away. Hearing that phrase on Bulma's lips had poisoned it.
He loosened her grip on him and turned to face her.

"It was already over, wasn't it?" he said more harshly than he meant to. He pulled back
at the sight of Bulma's beautiful blue eyes overflowing with tears. She nodded.

"I guess. . . some part of me figured we'd just get back together like we always did,"
Bulma sniffled. Vegeta sighed, and guided her to the table. He gently set her down in the
nearest chair, and then got her some water. He rinsed his hand while he was at it, and found the cuts from the glass he had broken to be quite minor. In his opinion, they
wouldn't even need a bandage. He handed her the glass of water and sat next to her.

She drank several deep gulps and after a few minutes got control of herself.

"I'm. . .sorry, Vegeta. I don't know why I grabbed you like that. You probably don't understand any of this," Bulma sighed deeply.

"Not really," Vegeta admitted. "Such relationships were nearly unheard of on Planet
Vegeta. It was. . .safer that way," he snapped his gaze away from her.

"I suppose so. . .when all of you fight all the time, it hurts less not to get too close. Must be lonely, though," Bulma didn't know where to look, until her eyes were drawn
to Vegeta's bare chest. Several scars cut through his flesh; across his shoulders, down his
chest, and on his stomach. The largest one was on his chest, over his heart.

It was long and wide and branched into two spikes on one end. It must have been a near-fatal wound. Her hand moved of its own accord and began tracing the pale marks. "So many scars. Life's been very harsh on you, hasn't it, Vegeta?" she asked absently. Vegeta had tensed the moment her hand had touched him.

When her fingers gently touched his largest mark, he grabbed her hand in a sharp, snapping motion; yet his grip was gentle. Their eyes locked for a moment as he brought
her hand up to his face.

"That fool doesn't deserve one such as you," he said softly as he kissed her palm. Then
his lips moved to her wrist. Bulma touched his cheek with her free hand and he lifted his eyes to her. He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately on the lips. Bulma flung
all thoughts of Yamcha from her mind and wrapped her arms around Vegeta. It's not possible. . .my heart. . .I. . .I hate seeing her cry, it hurts my heart. . .what am I thinking?! What's wrong with me?! Why can't I. . .let her go? Vegeta's head was in a tailspin, overrun with thoughts and emotions he didn't understand. Half of him was screaming that he had to leave, now, before this went any further. The other half wanted to hold her until doomsday, and keep her safe from such pain as she had just been feeling. Vegeta wondered for the millionth time if he was going mad.

Bulma's mind was no quieter; half her thoughts were screaming that this was Vegeta! The arrogant bastard! The man who didn't care about anything! Her other half was filled with the lost, lonely look his eyes held so often, the tears she had seen him shed in his
sleep, the gentle way he touched her when she had burned herself, and the strange knowledge that he did care about her. All of their thoughts quieted as their kissing became more intense, and she pressed her entire body against his.

He lifted her up and carried her to her room. His father would have knocked him into
next week for claiming such a weak mate, but his father was dead and his opinions no longer mattered. Hours flew by and they didn't notice, until they both slept in each
other's embrace. But Vegeta's sleep wasn't peaceful. In his dreams, he saw a tall stone tower.

I hate this dream. he thought. It was always the same; Yon stood on top of the tower
fighting something Vegeta couldn't see, and by the time he got to the top of the tower, Yon was dead. No matter how fast he was, he never made it in time. Still, he bolted for the top, hoping this time would be different. As he soared to the peak, he realized something _was_ different. It wasn't Yon on top of the tower, at least not alone. Bulma now stood with him. Both turned and saw Vegeta, and Bulma reached out a hand to him. Then something grabbed her from behind and pulled her out of sight. Vegeta poured on all of the speed he could, and finally reached the summit. There lay Yon and Bulma, dead, their blood turning the gray stone crimson. Vegeta screamed in frustration, heartbreak, and terror, and then snapped awake. He breathed deeply for a few moments, and then sat up, releasing his grip on Bulma and moving her arm out of the way.

Bulma stirred and whimpered, disturbed by the loss of his warmth. Vegeta hesitated, then placed his arms back around her. She quieted instantly, comforted by the return of his embrace.

He could scarcely believe it; how could she need him to feel secure?

He watched her silently for a few minutes, thinking. "You're mine now, my mate. . ." he
whispered finally. He had never felt anything like this before, and he was scared. What he had shared with Yon had just been a warm, childhood friendship that only lasted a
few months, and Yon's death had nearly destroyed him. What would he do if anything happened to Bulma? He would die, plain and simple. He couldn't let this be.

"Caring. . .only brings pain," he whispered the words once more.

"You still believe that?" a little boy's voice said out of the darkness. Vegeta jumped and looked over to see Yon standing a foot from the bed, slightly transparent and with a halo over his head.

Vegeta shook his head and rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. "I didn't actually
wake up," he muttered. That, or I'm hallucinating.

"You're awake, and you're not seeing things. I'm here, though not in the flesh," Yon
said with a smile. "We need to talk."

"Talk about what?" Vegeta was, understandably, slightly freaked out. He was talking to the ghost of a boy who had died around thirty years ago. He knew his face was betraying his surprise and discomfort, but he couldn't seem to get his expression under
control.

"About you, your attitude, and the part I had in it," Yon sighed lightly and sat on the end
of the bed. His little ghost body made no impression on the covers, and Vegeta again considered the idea that he was merely seeing things.

"I'm not following," Vegeta shook his head.

"I was your best friend, the only person you ever cared about. And I up and died on you. You were hurt and felt betrayed," Yon stated calmly.

Vegeta diverted his eyes, but gave a small nod.

"You promised yourself you'd never care again, right?" Yon continued.

Vegeta nodded again.

"But you care about her," Yon motioned toward the sleeping Bulma. Vegeta clenched
his jaw. Yon looked regretful as he studied his old friend's face.

"You might have been different if I had lived."

"Maybe," Vegeta answered shortly.

"Tell me something, would it have been easier for you if I had died with the rest of our
people when Frieza blew up our planet?" Yon asked slowly.

"You wouldn't have been on Planet Vegeta when it was destroyed if you had lived that
long," Vegeta replied.

"Oh? How do you figure?" Yon tilted his head to one side the way he always did when he was curious.

"Because I know you," Vegeta smirked at him now. "You would have snuck aboard
Frieza's ship after I was sent there, and then to avoid getting into trouble, you would have come with me on the mission I was on when Frieza slagged our planet."

Yon giggled. "You're right, I would have. But if I was still alive and with you right
now, do you know what I'd be doing?" Yon's eyes sparkled with the familiar glee of teasing his old friend.

"What?" Vegeta arched an eyebrow at him and a smile fought for a place on his face.

"Trying to get her," Yon smirked as he looked at Bulma. Vegeta gave a short laugh.
Then a million questions began flying through his mind.

"How can you be here? Why now? Do you know what's been happening to me recently?" Vegeta demanded swiftly.

"I'm not completely clear on all the details," Yon admitted sheepishly. "All I know is,
all of the Saiyan children were being sent on to heaven since kids just do as the adults tell them too, thus it was decided they weren't to blame for their actions. But when my turn came, this lady asked me if I wanted to watch over my friend Vegeta. Well, I of course
said yes, so she brought me to a place where I could watch you. She told me, 'Look sharp.
Someday in the future there will be a time when he needs you. You will have to help him again, but you need to be able to see when.' And then she was gone. I was really confused, but I did like I was told and looked out for you. Then you came here, and started changing. And I knew! I knew this was when you were gonna need me!" Yon smiled, quite proud of himself.

"The dream-memories? The flashbacks?" Vegeta prodded.

"All necessary," Yon bobbed his head confidently. "I had to make you set aside your
pride for a while so you and Bulma could, you know, get together."

"You. . .you put that rock in front of that mud puddle for Bulma to trip on. . .and you
caught my ki ball and sent it back at me to knock me out!" Vegeta suddenly felt his blood boil.

"Uh huh. All part of my plan. And it worked! You had to remember me, remember that you could let someone in under your defenses, or you'd never get Bulma. You had
to get past your pain, and so did she. I couldn't do anything for her, though," Yon squared
his shoulders and crossed his arms, his pride at his accomplishment beaming through his face.

"I don't believe this!" Vegeta grumbled. "A dead five-year-old has been trying to help
my love life!" Yon giggled again.

"Look, answer me honestly. When were you happier? When we were together or when you were alone?" Yon asked point-blank. Vegeta dropped his eyes.

"When. . .we were together," he admitted slowly. Yon sighed a bit. This was like
pulling out teeth, but he had expected it to be.

"Precisely. Believe me, a lifetime alone will hurt more than losing someone you cared
about. You could have a really good thing here, Vegeta, if you just let yourself have it," Yon smiled at him, and Vegeta looked at Bulma.

"So what do you suggest?" Vegeta asked gently.

"You care about her, right? Then care about her! But don't do it half-assed, go all the
way! If you can't say it with words, find another way to say it! Let yourself know what it feels like to really love someone. The closest I ever got to that were my parents, but it was close enough. It really is worth it," Yon stated firmly. Vegeta reached out to caress Bulma's cheek, but pulled his hand back.

"I can't!" he said through gritted teeth. He wanted to, with all his heart and soul, but
something in him still refused.

"Of course you can! It may take a while, but it'll come!" Yon snapped, not about to let all of his hard work go to waste. Then he blinked and looked around. "Uh oh. My time's up. I've gotta go back," he said as he hopped off the bed and moved back to where he
first showed up. "Listen, will you do an old friend a favor?" he asked.

"What?" Vegeta wasn't completely sure he wanted to know.

"When the time is right, tell them about me," Yon's expression was one of pure hope and innocence.

"Tell who?"

"I don't know. You're children? Friends? Or just her. Just. . .let someone else know I
existed in the first place," and with that, Yon was gone. Vegeta stared at the spot where he had just been standing. Bulma chose that moment to wake up. She sat up and stared
at Vegeta.

"Were you talking to someone?" she asked. She could have sworn she heard two voices.

Vegeta hesitated, then shook his head.

"No," he whispered. "I was just. . .talking to myself. Let's go back to sleep," Vegeta
pulled Bulma to him as they laid back down in the covers. She sighed and pressed into him, enjoying his warmth.

A good thing, huh, Yon? Do you really think? If I were to ask, Bulma, would you be mine? Forever? Vegeta wondered as he fell asleep.

"Papa?" a little voice called. Vegeta blinked and looked down on his daughter. He'd
gotten lost in thought while watching Trunks and Goten spar. Bulma, Goku, Chi-chi, Gohan, Videl, and little Bra and Pan all sat around him, watching him with puzzled
looks on their faces.

"You've been staring into space for a good ten minutes," Goku observed.

"I was just remembering," Vegeta shrugged.

"Remembering what?" Bulma asked.

"How we started. And an old friend," Vegeta answered, and suddenly he felt something.

"I'd. . .like to tell you about him, if you'll listen." They stared at him for a minute. It was very unusual for Vegeta to open up.

"Yeah, sure," they all agreed, and they turned their full attention to Vegeta.

"His name. . .was Yon," Vegeta started calmly. He didn't know if this was enough to
repay his debt to his old friend, but he knew it was a start. A good thing? Try a great thing. he thought, and smiled as he told his friends and family about his first and best friend.

The End

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Ta-dah! And there you have it! My take on it. I didn't initially mean for it
to focus so much on Vegeta, but then again, most of these focus primarily on Bulma. It just seemed to me that there had to be a reason why Vegeta could be so cold-hearted and then change so much. I then had the idea of 'what if he had a friend when he was a kid?' And this sprang from that. I hope you liked it!

Questions? Comments? Flames? E-mail me at NansJns@aol.com . If my address
doesn't work, send what you have to say to my brother, Scorpinac@aol.com ! He'll pass them on if he wants to continue to breathe comfortably.

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West Capital City : A Vegeta Lover's Asylum