Author's Note: Special thanks to those who reviewed, but especially to wbss21. Literally, your comment described exactly what I was trying to accomplish with this story. You are the reason I am posting this update.

Chapter Five

Bulma wished the image of Vegeta's young, broken body would vanish from view, but he and the darkness of the cell remained. The surging emotions of watching such a small child face terrifying abuse made her want to squeeze her eyes shut, drown in her guilt for the prince, and call the whole project off. Her heart and her determination to share his story, however, willed her forward. All the negative assumptions, the harsh judgments made upon the Saiyan prince filled her mind and strengthened her resolve. Vegeta watched incredulously as Bulma went to the materialized form of his young self, kneeling beside him and resting a soft hand against his wet, tear stained cheek. She knew it could bring the unreal little thing no comfort. It was just a figment of Vegeta's imagination, albeit a very real, very tangible one. Nurturing the boy brought her comfort.

"It continued like this," Vegeta continued, forcing his mind away from the image of his small, crumpled body and thus causing it to disappear beneath Bulma's caring hands. "Frieza vowed to beat me into subservience, because there was another prophecy that he feared. The legend of the Super Saiyan that would rise in power and destroy him. So naturally, when my father rallied his elite soldiers once more to put a stop to Frieza and regain his son, Frieza did not hesitate in killing him and the rest of my people. I did not learn of my father's last stand until later, and I had started to believe Frieza's lies that my own father would abandon me so willingly."

"How did you find out?" Bulma's voice was hoarse, and she almost couldn't form the words. The powerful reenactments playing out before her were draining, but she felt empowered to continue listening and internalizing every single emotion. If Vegeta had to live it, the least she could do was listen.

"Frieza was fearful of what I could become. I exhibited power that surprised him. I was small and near death, yet could muster such energy… He knew, then, that the legend would not be realized by the other Saiyans that were spared from my planet's eradication."

"Raditz and Nappa…" Bulma could never forget the team's first encounter with the Saiyans. How terrifying they had been, and how sad that Goku would meet a brother he never knew he had, only for evil to take him away. It was obvious now that the mindless, pure evil they had labeled those Saiyans as, was not so blindly true.

"I did not know they were alive for so long. Frieza wanted me isolated, to break me and bring me to my knees. He wanted me to beg for some sort of hope, but hope was lost to me, and he saw this. When he revealed Raditz and Nappa to me, I barely knew them to begin with. Raditz was Kaila's brother and a good warrior, and Nappa was one of my father's generals. Unfortunately for them, Frieza knew they were too weak to fulfill the prophecy and were expendable. Even my own power as a child rivaled theirs. He united us to use them against me, threatening to kill the last of my brethren if I didn't do as he asked. It was Nappa who told me of what happened with my father. How he died..."

Hearing about Raditz and Nappa brought Gohan's retelling of the incidents on Namek to Bulma's thoughts, when Vegeta had appealed to Goku with his last, dying breaths. How Vegeta had agreed to do everything Frieza asked, or else Frieza would kill the king. How he swallowed his pride and did just that, just for Frieza to murder his father anyway.

"I was a fool to believe Frieza, to believe that my own father would forsake me." Vegeta's face lowered, his eyes closing and his fists raising at his sides. "I owe my father my life. Even when I would rather have found honor in death while serving Frieza. I was alive to make that decision. It was then that I vowed to not only avenge my father, but to never take the title of King."

Bulma blinked. "I'd always wondered about that. Why you retained the title of Prince, even when it was just you and Goku left."

Vegeta didn't respond. He removed the scouter, inspecting it. The stadium's darkness immediately lifted, returning the environment to the peaceful, albeit blood red scenery of Planet Vegeta. A soft breeze returned and Bulma realized that when Vegeta had been envisioning Frieza's spacecraft, all wind and ambiance had been silenced as if they were stuck inside a vacuum. Having experienced everything in those preceding moments, it was easy, then, to appreciate the beauty of the lost planet. The rough terrain didn't seem so harsh anymore, with patches of green and wild flowers Bulma could not name snaking their way up through crevices and plateaus. Off in the distance, if she squinted, Bulma could make out water sparkling in fractals in the sunlight. Realizing they had not moved far from the door through which they entered, Bulma looked thoughtfully at Vegeta.

"Have you explored in here yet?"

Vegeta frowned, scanning the terrain with experienced eyes. "I know this planet like the back of my hand. What is there to explore?"

Bulma hadn't thought of that. In her excitement to give what she thought was an incredible gift to Vegeta, she didn't consider that he may not appreciate seeing the dead planet again. Yes, it was a risk in hindsight, that he could have been angry or resentful to see this fake façade of his home… but seeing his expression soften while scanning the horizon, and lifting his face to the sun that felt just slightly different, but different enough, than it did on Earth… she knew she'd made the right decision. "Well, I haven't seen it yet."

To her surprise, Vegeta looked at her for just a moment, studying her sincerity. He started walking further into the stadium, leading her deeper into the unknown world around her. Planet Vegeta was unlike anything she had ever seen. Gravel crunched under their feet and the sun was falling into a brilliant, violet sunset. Bulma's eyes locked again onto the distant lake, reflecting the pink clouds. It's waters played off the dying sunlight beneath a warm, velvety sky that was complemented by green fields sporadically roaming along dusty terrains.

Beside her, Vegeta voiced his disapproval for slow, idle walks with an annoyed grunt. Before she could protest, Bulma felt an arm grip her around her waist and, in the blink of an eye, they were zooming through the red and maroon and violet sunset. Her blue hair whipping around her cheeks and the force of the breeze magnified in flight, Bulma buried her face into the crook of Vegeta's neck and held on for dear life. A soft chuckle of amusement rumbled in Vegeta's throat, drawing a smile to Bulma's lips. Allowing her grip to loosen in trust, she let her fingers splay along his strong shoulders and fluttered her eyelashes against his skin. 'Safe' didn't begin to describe how she felt with this volatile warrior prince. Held in his vice-like embrace and soaring weightlessly through the blushing sky, Bulma felt empowered.

The wind died down and the world stopped moving, so Bulma reluctantly released her hold on Vegeta's shoulders. When his grip around her waist hesitated a moment before it, too, fell away, Bulma's heart fluttered. Pulling herself together, her eyes drank in the sight of the lake at her feet. They'd landed right at the shoreline within a break of cattail-like stems sprouting all around. The fuzz that clung to the large, pillowy stamens broke loose and fluttered along the shifting breeze, dancing like soft snowflakes. They floated out onto the gently lapping water and dotted its surface, reflecting the warm tones of the sunset like fireflies.

"This is what you were looking for?" Vegeta broke her reverie, looking thoughtfully out at the lake. Bulma blushed, suddenly and embarrassingly aware that he had been watching her admire the water from afar. She obliged his question with a nod as she kicked off her sandals and tiptoed into the cool, cleansing water. It felt so real, and once again she marveled at her own ingenuity. She could create something from nothing, and yet… There was a lot she was looking for, if she were being honest with herself. A lot that she wanted for herself, for others… She didn't expect to find so much of it there in a virtual reality chamber. Things were so different within the world she never knew. Realities shifted, and so did her understanding. She suddenly feared it would all change the moment they stepped through that single, floating door and back into true reality. Bulma glanced back at Vegeta who had quickly gotten his fill of admiring the lake and was scrutinizing the scouter lens in his hands. The last thing she wanted was for him to close himself off again, to leave and forget what he was suddenly, impossibly sharing with her.

He, of course, was oblivious to the thoughts running through Bulma's mind. Repositioning the scouter over his ear, disgust marred his sharp features. "I was ordered to use these under Frieza. He could watch my every move and hear every word with this. I was happy to rid myself of it."

'Ordered' was not a word often associated with Vegeta, unless he was the one doing the ordering. To be driven down and enslaved by the very… thing that murdered his family would be unbearable. Losing his family, let alone a planet or entire race of people, and then trying to find any trace of hope would have been unimaginable. "How did you get through it?"

Vegeta frowned at her like she was asking the most ludicrous question. "I survived. I followed orders and was ruthless like he wanted me to be. I listened to his drivel and accepted it as my purpose, because what else did I have. If I did not perform for him, I was useless. And I performed well."

"What… did you do well?" Bulma was afraid of his answer, although she knew what was coming. Crouching and allowing the cool water to kiss her knees, she swirled a finger in her reflection, a halo circling around her mirrored image. The ripples distorted her reflection and she couldn't see herself anymore. What she knew to be her was lost as the ripples spun and dimmed beneath the ever-darkening sky.

"I was enlisted in missions to test my obedience, sent to planets that were just strong enough to fall to me, but too weak to truly challenge me. I was given the same expectation of all of his soldiers: enslave the inhabitants, annihilate the resistance, destroy the planet if I must."

The butterflies Bulma had entertained with the prince's touch, the headiness of their embrace in flight, slipped away and drowned in the sudden bad feeling Bulma had. Designed to create tangible objects and entities from Vegeta's thoughts, she had been weary of the stadium's reaction when he started telling the story of the planet's original civil war. Nothing had materialized, the memory too weak for Vegeta as it was one he had not personally experienced. But now, with his story turning to one of which he headlined…

Bulma screamed as the pool in which she knelt in changed from its warm reflection of the sky to a thick, hot, crimson substance. The lake condensed into a shallow pool right before them, the surrounding perimeter dotted with corpses. Rivers of hot, red blood flooded from their broken humanoid bodies into the pool.

Scrambling away from the carnage, Bulma darted to Vegeta's side. His stance had changed and his guard was up as he looked about. Scanning the shifting, metamorphosing plains, he growled through clenched teeth, "We are not on Planet Vegeta any longer." The setting sun of Planet Vegeta was gone and the atmosphere around them dimmed, the only light coming from sporadic flashes in the distance. Droning sounds whizzed all around them. Bloodstained terrain grew foot by foot, extending for miles in every direction. Vegeta positioned himself in front of Bulma, his eyes never leaving the light flares that threatened closer and closer.

"You want the whole story, woman?"

His words were hissed like a warning through a guarded, clenched jaw, and Bulma was instantly unsure. The slain bodies before them were indeed humanoid but still alien and unrecognizable to the scientist. Judging by the arc Vegeta's story took, they were in the midst of a battle he himself had waged under Frieza's will on an innocent, unsuspecting planet.

Before she could answer, a hailstorm of energy pelted the earth around them, raising clouds of dust and debris as they incinerated the gravel. Another scream was locked in Bulma's throat, jarred loose when Vegeta clutched at her wrist and threw her beneath him. His body arched around her, shielding her from the raining blasts. To her dismay, she smelled the burning of his bodysuit beneath the attack, the material eating away even further. Vegeta's memories of this particular battle were so strong that the attacks were as palpable as the landscapes and beings he had created. Peeking up at her protector, Bulma was relieved to see Vegeta's unaffected expression as he simply continued to take the brunt of the assault. Was he punishing himself by reliving the pain he caused?

"Do not think that your insolence will go unreported, monkey." The hissing, reptilian voice was not one that Bulma recognized, but was indeed one that elicited a snarling response from Vegeta. The assailing energy balls ceased and Vegeta stood with hands fisted and eyes infuriated slits. Bulma followed his glare to a reptilian creature that materialized out of the dust the assault had kicked up. The dust continued to swirl, revealing a teenage Vegeta seated upon a crag of rock, splattered in blood. His forearm rested on his knee, static sparking between his fingertips in subtle restraint. It was obvious that he was itching to blast the reptilian into nothingness.

The alien went toe to toe with the younger Vegeta, who looked almost identical to his current form. His face was softer, not yet hardened by years of subjugation and battle, yet still hard enough, having seen more than a young man his age should see. The alien grasped the nape of his armor in his hands and pulled Vegeta's face to his. "You allowed those weaklings to attack us first. Tell me why I shouldn't practice 'eye for an eye' with your worthless carcass."

The teenage Vegeta sneered back at the reptile, backhanding its grip away from his neck. "We will dominate this race easily. It is only honorable to allow them a chance to fight for themselves." Vegeta spat at the ground near the reptile's feet. "Report me to Frieza, and join me in punishment for laying a hand on his favorite warrior."

Surprisingly, Frieza's soldier backed off, but not before spitting on his fellow soldier and laughing as he retreated back into battle. Seething, the teenage Vegeta's energy flared around him, but distracted himself by turning his attention to the corpses of the fallen. Bowing deeply, the Saiyan prince blasted a deep hole into the ground. Bulma watched with baited breath as the apparition pushed each corpse into the mass grave and buried them, just as his ancestors had done in their civil war. Their influence still pulsed within Vegeta's veins, even without their presence, and even within his current, futile reality.

The world around them ripped away without notice, leaving a vacuum of silence. Only they and the teenage Vegeta remained, watching each other like mirrored images. Pseudo-Vegeta was unmoving, an expression of rage upon his features. His suddenly weak and bloodied hands clutched the bottom of his breastplate adorned with Frieza's insignia. He pulled it over his head and stared at it with disgust before hurling it into a row of lockers which materialized within the darkness. A common room began to form around them, lockers and benches and faucets sprouting along its walls. It was large enough to house fifty men. The floors were stained with green and burgundy splotches that Bulma did not wish to know the source of. She watched in horror as the teenage Vegeta caught her attention again, deep lines patterning themselves along his skin. The angry red cuts sketched themselves and burned away more of his bodysuit as they progressed, fresh and seeping. His chest and back looked like a tapestry of scars and blood smeared like war paint down his abdomen. They were not the scars of battle, but the deep, purposeful scars of torture.

"You were punished," Bulma's realization came at a whisper, because just as she was thankful that Vegeta did not show her how his punishment took place, the resulting image was no better. The young Vegeta righted himself and took on a fighting stance the best that he could, his eyes darting around in suspense. An array of soldiers of different species surrounded him, headed by the reptilian, armored creature who had fronted him on the battlefield. He, too, was bleeding from obvious Frieza-inflicted torture but to just a fraction of the degree the Saiyan had been afflicted.

"I had to be broken."

A fist collided with young Vegeta's jaw, sending a spray of blood from his lips. Weakened from the hours of punishment by Frieza's hand, the proud Saiyan swayed and stumbled to one knee. Immediately forcing himself back upright, static splayed at his fingertips only to be quelled as another punch matched the first and drove him back down before the laughing reptile.

"I don't care that your Lord Frieza's favorite play thing. I will do him a favor and rid his presence of your failure."

A raspy, coldblooded laugh rumbled from young Vegeta's throat before his hands shot forward, the static at his palms erupting into a flare of energy that dissolved the reptile into oblivion. The soldiers surrounding him fell back, silent and confused at the sudden sway in power. Young Vegeta stood and met eyes with every last one of them, daring them to step into their now deceased pack leader's shoes. None did so, and the shade of Vegeta smiled that cold, merciless smile that Bulma wished she could forget.

"He was proud, the sick bastard," Vegeta muttered through grit teeth. It took a minute for Bulma to deduce that he referred to Frieza and not himself. "I destroyed one of his generals, and he praised me for it. He even killed every one of those soldiers that backed him. He was proud of the ruthlessness and lack of mercy I showed, and he thought he had finally succeeded in truly enslaving me to his will."

Bulma's eyes were wide. "… Did he?" She wanted to believe that Vegeta resisted to the end, but she knew the whole story. She knew what logically came next, and she found herself pointlessly praying for her own memories to deceive her. He would go to Earth and meet Goku, and the rest was history. Gohan's recounting of the incidents on Namek flooded her mind. Goku had seen through Vegeta's evil exterior before anyone else had. He had recognized that the Saiyan prince was not as coldhearted as even Vegeta thought himself to be. Vegeta had saved Gohan's life, despite having been molded into the severe, unfeeling harbinger of destruction that Frieza wanted him to be. Since the innocent age of five, Vegeta was never given the chance to be anything else.

"'A heart of stone can't shed tears like you did. You must have been holding them back your whole life.'" Bulma recited Goku's words to Vegeta's lifeless body on Namek. Vegeta cringed. His rival bore witness to the weakest he'd ever allowed himself to be. He had never cried, not even when he was taken as a child under the thumb of a murderous dictator, or when he learned of his beloved mother's demise. Not when he was tortured and isolated and robbed of all hope. Tears were only shed at the realization that, in death, he would not be the one to destroy Frieza. That his life had meant nothing.

Vegeta removed the scouter once again, his knuckles white as he clutched it. Bulma feared that in his disgust, he would crush the device into powder, but he instead pushed them into her hands. "It is a cruel thing you have done, forcing a man to relive the treachery of his past."

Finally, boundless and unrestrained tears spilled from Bulma's eyes and streaked down her cheeks, the dust from battle disappearing alongside the haunting visions of a historical play. Now everything made sense.

"Vegeta, you relive it every day, anyway."

Author's Note: I think he's seen enough. D: But has the Saiyan shown too much? Guess we'll see!

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing.