Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction in a REALLY long time. The last time I posted, my writing was awful. And I was in the 8th grade. Now, I'm in my final year of college, and hopefully my writing has improved a little.

This is my first every DBZ fanfic, and I am very excited! This is an AU based heavily on the video game series Fallout, however in no way do you need to have played that in order to understand the story. I hope I can keep up consistent updates in my schedule!

I don't own DBZ or Fallout :)

Chapter I: Guts / Fear

The new world was a cruel place to travel alone. Mutant feral animals ran rampant across old roads, sniffing through the rubble for fresh flesh to feast on. They frequently hunted humans, craving anything with warm blood. No one really blamed them though. Nobody asked for a nuclear bomb to be dropped on their home, not only killing millions but leaving copious amounts of radiation so that the survivors could suffer extra as well.

For a seasoned hunter and killer like Vegeta, the animals were not the most troublesome creatures in the wasteland. Mother Nature was likely the fiercest warrior out in the open. She burned during the day time, but barred all warmth during the night, making sleeping without dying of hypothermia difficult on occasion. It did not help that what was left of her food and drink was now certain to make any consumer regurgitate all their bile.

He looked up at the hot steamy sky, wiping the sweat off his gritty brow. He was not sure where he was going at this point, but it was definitely not north bound. He needed out somehow, at least for a little while, and this was the only way to get away without Him noticing.

Though he trusted his own reflexes, he found himself frequently checking to see if his belt pistol was on fire or if his shotgun was still strapped to his back, as if it would fall off without him noticing. Something about being out in the open made him feel uneasy. Or maybe that was the radiation poisoning. He was not certain paranoia was a symptom of the ailment he so frequently experienced.

Vegeta pulled his black goggles he had kept while riding his motorcycle over his eyes, hoping the tinted lenses would help him see past the bright sun. On the horizon, he saw a line of buildings and rubble.

"South City…" He grumbled, his throat feeling dry from the dehydration. Pulling out a pocket watch, he made note of the time and approximately how long it would take to reach the city outskirts. He needed shelter soon. He was not sure how much longer his body could go without water or rest.

He felt his stomach lurch, bile threatening to emerge onto the dry soil. Perhaps no more rats for dinner in the meantime.

The looting mission was on schedule and going as planned. Perhaps for the first time in many years, something Bulma liked to think as the result to her being there. Normally she let the boys take care of the looting missions, not that she could not handle it. She just preferred to stay behind and work on her numerous projects at the plant.

"Bulma! How's the rad looking?" Krillin called from the left flank.

Bulma rolled her eyes and checked her Geiger counter on her wrist, "It's still steadily increasing. We must be getting closer."

Also Goku has proven to Bulma that the Geiger counter was not nearly as worthy of his attention as his rifle is. After one too many occasions of radiation sickness from the team and Tien now home resting from getting the worst of it, Bulma had decided she better show Yamcha how to use the Geiger counter until she could convince Chichi to let Gohan come on the missions. She found herself slightly resentful at teaching her boyfriend, whose relationship had become unsteady.

A sharp ping caught Bulma's attention, "Hey boys we need to don our suits for the rest of the way in."

This mission was particularly important for Bulma because it gave her a prime opportunity to try her latest invention. She was not the first person on this world to create a hazmat suit to prevent high level radiation poisoning, but she was certain she was the first person in the new world.

South City took some of worst of the impact from the war. The large city maintained some of the worst contact, leaving much of the once lavish metropolitan area flattened and intensely irradiated. This also meant hardly any looters have touched the place, which meant an ideal location for scavenging parts.

The boys immediately followed Bulma's order and started rummaging into their bags for the bright yellow rubbery suit. The suits were somewhat haphazardly stitched together, materials not all entirely matching. She had spent months scavenging pieces and doing research on these suits with what little access she had to old world technology.

"Hmm very stylish, Bulma," Yamcha muttered as he let the suit hang on his hips to tie his long thick hair up.

"Then leave it off and let your skin melt off for all I care," Bulma snorted, uncaring to look of hurt on Yamcha's face from her comment. She was more concerned about replacing her Geiger counter and watch over her suit on her arm.

Krillin chuckled nervously, "You two…" He pulled his suit over his arms, zipping up the yellow zipper. Bulma knew her bickering with Yamcha bothered the other members of the group, if not made them uncomfortable. She could not help feel anger rise towards her former boyfriend when he made snarky comments. She would ignore him if they did not have to live in such close quarters.

When everyone has their yellow suits on, Bulma gave the go ahead to put on their helmets. The helmets limited their ability to hear, so they would have to rely on Goku's hand signals to continue on. Yelling would work, but not knowing what ferals lurk in the city, it was best to keep silent.

The group followed Goku's larger form into the city rubble. As Bulma expected, the northern side of the city was largely still intact. While radiation levels were exceedingly high, the area contained many things they could use to keep their lives at the plant comfortable. The area they were in contained what used to be a large shopping emporium. They made their way through the piles of old world cars, stacked up against each other from the shockwave. Goku pushed a fist into the air and stopped in front of the glass doors of the giant shopping center. He motioned for everyone to come forward, then began securing his rifle on his back. As Yamcha and Krillin crowded behind him, Goku positioned himself to begin prying the sliding doors open. Bulma watched as Yamcha and Krillin stood opposite from Goku, also starting carving open an entrance to their looting gold mine. The building towered over the group, likely containing multiple stories of supplies waiting for them to loot. It was not the most morally righteous job, but this world is hardly the place for morals.

Suddenly a loud crack caught Bulma's attention. It was the sound of Goku breaking through the first door with his behemoth strength. When he cracked the door open enough to fit himself inside, he shot Bulma a thumbs up. Through his shaded helmet, she could tell he was smiling.

Goku was the first resident that came to her family many years ago. He stumbled across the treatment plant when he was only 12 years old, a small red pole in hand. While not someone they could teach a lot of mechanical or chemical skills, Goku's strength proved to be a valuable asset to her team. He took to weapon handling with ease and could hold his own with hand to hand combat. Other than her sister, Goku remained to be one of her closest friends.

In little time, Goku pushed past the second door, finally allowing the group into the gold mine of supplies.

"What is that smell?" Krillin grumbled, waving his arm in front of his helmet, as if it would dissipate the stench.

Yamcha extend his arm, pointing in the direction what used to be a series of escalators leading to the next floor. Piled upon each other were either rotted or nearly rotted corpses.

Bulma shook her head, unable to understand why all these people stayed in such an irradiated area. According to her Geiger counter, this particular area was not nearly as bad as outside, but prolonged exposure without protection could easily lead to severe radiation poisoning

"Alright everyone listen up," Bulma said loud enough for everyone to hear without shouting. She slipped off her pack and pulled out sheets of paper with pen scribbled on them.

"Here are you lists," she dealt out a list to each person, "Remember lists take priority over personal items. Once you have collected your list to the best of your ability, then you can look for personal items. Carry all that you can. Meet back here at 1700."

Nodding with understanding, once everyone received their lists, they split off, leaving Bulma to wander alone on the base floor of the shopping area.

Several hours had passed while the crew scavenged the large shopping emporium. As Bulma expected, much of the place had been picked clean, but there was still much to be scavenged. She was not one to give up easily.

She found herself wandering into a large family shoe store for the last item on her listen. Chichi had begged her to put new shoes for Gohan on the list. His growing feet required several shoe trips anyways, but despite this she relented. Her first thought was to replace her ragged boots as well, which were tearing at the seams, but here she was looking at the section of heeled shoes. Even covered in dust, she could not help but feel jealous of their elegance. She picked up a pair of black stilettos with a pencil thin heel. She ran her fingers over the patent leather of the shoes, wiping off dirt and exposing a near perfect sheen.

My legs would look amazing in these.

The scientist shook her head. What a ridiculous thought. Heels have lost their practicality for decades.

Perhaps in another life.

Bulma set the shoe back down on the display and made her way through rubble and discarded shoes to the back of the store where the work boots were located. Much of the store was still intact, which was nice for this occasion. Though like many things, excessive pairs of shoes were frivolous during these times, and her pack was starting to feel heavy on her shoulders.

She picked out a pair for Gohan and stuffed them in her bag then moved down the shelves for a similar size for her. When she decided on a sturdy pair of boots, she made a home in her bag for them. Looking in the large sack, she noticed there was still a decent about of room.

Her attention was brought to the larger men's sized boots down the aisle and immediately thought of Yamcha. Vaguely, she remembered him complaining about his own boots falling apart. A frown grew on her face.

This could be a peace offering between them. Even if he is an ass to her.

She grumbled something about his fickle behavior and grabbed a pair of men's boots and stuffed them into her pack, pulling the draw string tight and buckling the straps.

Bulma stalked out of the store and peered over the ledge to see if her comrades her were congregated yet at the entrance. Behind a broken pillar, she noticed a head covered in black spikey hair. Smiling to herself, she began running towards the closest escalator to take her down to the second floor. The idea of completing a looting mission where they did not get shot at was exciting.

However her thoughts were interrupted by her boot catching on something on the ground, causing her to glide face first into the dusty ground. Her pack lunged forward and crashed into the back of her head. Amidst a series of groans and swears, Bulma pulled herself up on the ground and turned her body to identify what she tripped over. She gasped when she realized what she tripped over was a human leg.

And that human leg was attached to breathing human body.

Bulma scurried over to the body and positioned herself so she could get a better look at his face. He was certainly alive, pale and dying from obvious radiation poisoning. His face was covered in sweat and dirty and beneath that, his nose and forehead pink from long sun exposure. If he was not treated soon, death would find him shortly.

Could I save him? Bulma was not entirely sure. He would need a transfusion for certain. She also was not sure how they would carry him. Like Goku but shorter, this man before her was built with no ounce of body fat.

A low groan escaped the man's the chapped lips, causing Bulma to jump a little. He stirred slightly, eyes opening slightly, but Bulma saw no consciousness. She knew the radiation was making him delusional.

Kindness was a rare commodity in the wastes. If one wanted something from someone, they better have something ready to give in return. Humans were cruel and heartless in this new world. Bulma knew that firsthand.

But she could be better.

Making her decision, she grabbed the man's arm and fit his shoulder in the wedge of her own. With a loud grunt and a swift motion, she swung his arm around her back and heaved his body over her pack. Hooking her arm in the crook of his elbow and the bend of his knee, he felt somewhat secure on her back, despite the pistol he had strapped to his chest being pressed up awkwardly against her neck.

Her knees quivered slightly. His body sat heavier than she first anticipated.

Maybe Goku can see me if I just make it to the top of the escalator.

Bulma grumbled loudly. The escalator was at least 30 paces away. This would be a long walk.

Step by step, Bulma threw one boot in front of the next, stopping occasionally to readjust the man on her back. It was already hot beneath the non-breathable rubber suit, and the extra grown man on her back did not help. Sweat poured from her temple, and her hot breath caused the lenses in her helmet to fog.

Once she made it to the top of the escalator, she was suddenly struck with horror. Her spikey haired friend was nowhere in sight. Neither was Yamcha or Krillin for that matter.

She couldn't call for them. Who knows if they would hear her let alone if she would attract any ferals or mutants.

I know I can't run with him.

Bulma swore under her breath. She would have to trek the stairs by herself if she wanted to save him. Praying to no one in particular, she begged that the weight would not throw her off balance descending the stairs.

One step at a time.

She repeated that mantra over and over again in her head as she took the first step. Maintaining balance, she planted both feet on the ledge. When she was satisfied she would not fall, she continued to the next step.

The sweat continued to pour down the sides of her face and forehead. The heat was dizzying, but slowly she descended to the faithful final step. There was a small part of her who wanted to sing when she felt both feet firmly planted on the ground, but she kept focused.

She continued her slow labored steps to the entrance of the emporium, where their meeting place was agreed upon. Bulma nearly collapsed when she neared the dirty wall. Using it for support, she gently slid the man onto the ground and then allowed her own legs to give way beneath her.

Looking at her watch, she knew it would be time for everyone to start showing up. She then glanced over to the body slumped to its side on the wall.

You're going to owe me big for this.

And that's chapter one! I would love constructive criticism, so please review! I know this one is a little boring, but it's to set up all the fun!