Author's Note: Okay! Okay! I owe you guys a million chapters on a million different stories, but I caught the flu (standard, not swine!) and for the life of me, I couldn't type accurately until a week or so after the fever broke. Seriously, I'd think "J" and hit "Q". I was waaaaaaay off. Anyway, in my feverish state, all I could do was daydream. This one-shot is one of the many, many, many odd things that popped into my head.

And yes, I am updating my other stories within the week. Please, have patience!

Brother

As the capsule jet landed at Capsule Corp, no one said a word. The tension level in the vehicle was so high that even Trunks did not dare to open his mouth. He had thousands of questions, all screaming in his mind to be asked, but he wasn't stupid enough to actually ask them. No, he would never dare interrupt family tension time with his questions. He had made that mistake once before, and he was smart enough to know never to do it again.

The lavender haired prince glanced at the uncle that sat beside him. There was no mistaking that Tarble was, if nothing else, related to Vegeta. No one looked that much alike by freak chance. In fact, if not for the size difference between them, and the fact that his uncle had bangs and his tail, Trunks wasn't a hundred percent sure he would have been able to tell the two of them apart.

In all his life, Trunks had never heard of this long lost uncle of his. He had always assumed, as had everyone else in the group, that Vegeta was an only child. After all, who had a little brother and never said anything about him?

Trunks spared a glance at his father, who was still sitting motionless in the passenger seat up front. The young boy could not understand his father's reaction to the entire situation. Two brothers had been reunited after long, hard years, and they weren't speaking to each other. And yet, they didn't seem to be mad at each other, either. Trunks was very confused.

Up in the driver's seat, Bulma was only having slightly more luck deciphering the silence between her husband and brother-in-law. Almost forty years had passed since the two brothers had been in the same room with each other, and given how young Tarble looked, they probably had never had a chance to truly bond. The heiress wasn't entirely convinced that the two had ever actually met before, and that maybe they only used their obvious family traits as factors for recognition.

"So," she said, turning the engine off and facing her passengers in the back, "why don't the three of you head inside. Trunks, you be good and show your aunt and uncle where the kitchen is. I'm sure they would enjoy some refreshments."

Catching on to what his mother was really asking, Trunks hopped to his feet. "Oh, of course! Uncle Tarble, Auntie Gure, if you would be so kind as to follow me…"

Tarble glanced at his older brother, who hadn't moved a muscle since they had climbed aboard, but opted to follow his nephew all the same. He, too, could sense that Bulma and Vegeta had something to discuss with one another, and he, too, did not wish to be nearby when that happened. "Thank you, Trunks," he quickly said, following suit. If Gure was aware of the tension, she never showed it as she followed her husband and nephew into the compound.

As soon as they were alone, Bulma let out a tired sigh. "Okay, why are you pouting?"

Vegeta glared at his wife. "I do not pout."

"Oh, sure you do," Bulma insisted. "You stare at a blank spot in the distance, you cross your arms, you stop talking, and you occasionally offer us a glare if we poke fun at you. Admit it, you pout."

After waiting for a few moments of silence, the scientist decided to probe further. "You talked more to Tarble than anyone else when he first got here, and now you won't even look at him. Vegeta, what's wrong?"

The prince shifted his gaze ahead once more, continuing what he insisted was not pouting. Suddenly, he shoved his door open and stormed out, determination and anger shining in his eyes.

Slowly, Bulma undid her safety belt. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew it couldn't be anything good.

///

"Your estate is impressive," Tarble commented, staring at the enormous kitchen.

Trunks simply offered a bored shrug. "Yeah, it's okay, I guess," he answered. "I mean, the place is frickin' huge, but we really only use, like, ten percent of if."

Tarble seemed confused. "That little?" he asked. "If you have so much space, why do you choose not to use it?"

"Oh, we do use it, from time to time," the young boy clarified. "But only when we've got an entire alien race that needs housing for an extended period of time. My actual family just doesn't need that many rooms."

Gure smiled at the boy. "Your family seems very nice," she sweetly said. "I am so happy to get to know them."

Opening the refrigerator and knowing they could not see his face, Trunks smirked. "Well, let's just see if you feel the same way after you get to know them."

"Oh, everyone says that about their families," the tiny woman giggled. "I am certain that yours cannot be that bad."

Trunks dropped a large amount of food on the table and turned to his aunt. "Okay, but let me give you the rundown now so that we don't scare you out of your mind. First of all, there's Mom. Now, she can be really, really nice if you catch her in a good mood, but you better run like hell if you catch her in a bad one. This woman has mood swings that would scare the caretakers of Hell." The boy paused to look at his uncle. "If she seems worked up about something, cover your ears and run."

"Cover my ears?"

The youngest prince rolled his eyes. "She's a screamer," he bluntly said. Gure blinked at the phrase, and Tarble had to fight from laughing at the entendre. Fortunately for both of them, Trunks didn't seem to notice. "She can get really, really loud, and she screams right in your ear. I'm guessing you hear as well as Dad and I do, and if that's true, it's gonna hurt. A lot."

Tarble nodded quickly. "Protect the ears. Got it."

"Now, Grandma is always nice and always happy, and to be honest, that's what's scary about her."

Gure stared at her nephew, confused. "Why is being happy scary?" she genuinely asked.

"Oh, you'll see," Trunks replied. "Grandpa's not too bad. He's fairly quiet and spends most of his time in the lab, but unless it has to do with science, his attention span isn't very long. So, you know, try not to be offended if you say something to him and his response has nothing to do with what you were talking about."

Tarble and Gure exchanged a glance. "Okay," Tarble slowly said. "How about my brother?"

Trunks looked confused. "You want to know what my dad is like?" he asked.

"Yes," the elder prince responded. "What is my brother like?"

The boy saw something and scooted to the side. "Um, I get the feeling you're about to find out…"

Poor Tarble never got a chance to ask what his nephew meant before he felt an iron grip clamp down on his shoulder. With fear in his eyes, he looked up into his brother's angry face. "Brother?" he quietly asked.

Vegeta glared fiercely at his younger brother, but didn't say a word. Instead, he aggressively grabbed the younger prince's arm and hauled him roughly out of the room.

"Oh, dear," Gure said in a worried tone. "What's going to happen?"

Trunks smirked at his aunt. "Apparently, Dad feels like communicating."

///

"Brother, where are you taking me?" Tarble asked, his fear in his eyes as he tried to reestablish his footing. "Brother?"

Vegeta remained silent, forcefully dragging his brother through the complex hallways of the compound. Poor Tarble could not even walk under his own power at the angle he was being pulled at.

They arrived at a large silver door, and Tarble could feel his heart leap to his throat. He could recognize enough of the mechanisms on the outside of the room to conclude that inside must be some form of secret lab or torture chamber. The number of cameras in the area, the levels of security his brother was going through, the fact that is was unbelievably out of the way from the rest of the house…what else could it be?

With a hiss, the door slid open. "Get in there," Vegeta growled. He shoved Tarble so hard that the younger prince finally did fall over completely. Vegeta entered the room and slammed the door shut, locking it angrily behind him.

In all his life, Tarble had never felt so much fear. Even while on the run from Abo and Cado, he had managed to stay at least somewhat calm. But sitting there, in the presence of a man more powerful than any other he had ever come across, watching that man furiously glare at him, any and all calmness fled.

"Brother, if only you would tell me what is wrong…"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Tarble blinked in surprise. "But why?" he sincerely asked. "Is that not who you are?"

"If you are asking if we share genetic material, then yes, we are," he snarled. "But if you are asking if you can just show up one day and expect me to just accept this, than you are sorely mistaken."

The younger prince looked both surprised and hurt. "But…but why can you not treat me as your brother?"

"Where the hell have you been?" Vegeta snapped.

Tarble looked confused as he finally started to pull himself to his feet. "What are you talking about?" he whispered.

Vegeta swiftly closed the gab between the two of them and roughly grabbed his younger brother's wrist. In one swift movement, he tore the other's glove off. "Do you see this?" he snarled.

Looking at his hand, Tarble shook his head. "Brother, what are you trying to get me to see?"

"I told you to stop calling me that," he hissed, shoving the hand in the younger one's face. "Look at your hand and tell me what you see."

"I…" the little prince stammered, "I see my hand…"

"And what does that look like to you, Tarble?" Vegeta growled, shaking the hand again.

The poor prince was both confused and frightened. "Broth…Vegeta, it's just my hand," he insisted.

"Is it a well used hand?" the older brother hissed. "Is it one that has been worked to the bone? Is it one that has been in a thousand battles? Is it one that is covered with calluses?"

The smaller prince flinched at his brother's anger. "No," he quietly answered. "It's…it's a smooth hand."

"And what kind of life," Vegeta went on, shoving the arm away, "allows a man of thirty nine years of life, to have hands without a single damn imperfection on them?"

Tarble held on to his wrist, staring at the forming bruise that was forming on his wrist. "An easier one than you had," he softly admitted. "But if you are trying to imply that my life has been easy, then you are mistaken. Remember, I came to you for help because I was being hunted by Abo and Cado."

"And for how long have those two been hunting you?" the elder prince demanded. "How long have they been making your life difficult?"

Starting to let his frustration at his treatment show, Tarble huffed, "Years, brother. They have hunted me for several years."

"How many is several? Three? Five? Twenty?"

Shifting his weight uncomfortably, Tarble huffed. "Four years, Vegeta. They hunted us for over four years, okay?"

Once more closing the gap between the two of them, Vegeta shoved his brother up against the wall of the gravity room. "And you knew that I was here, didn't you?" he hissed.

"Brother, I…"

"DIDN'T YOU?"

Shaking in fear, Tarble fought to keep his eyes on his older brother's face. "Yes," he answered as firmly as he could manage. "But brother, I…"

Vegeta slammed a hand against the wall, silencing his brother. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?" he demanded. "Why didn't you come to me? Why did you wait until it was absolutely necessary for your fucking benefit to let me know you were even alive?"

All of the color drained from the smaller man's face. "What?"

Backing off slightly, but still clearly agitated, Vegeta turned away from his brother. "For years, I thought I was the only Saiyan left. For years before that, I thought that I had no family. I had no one to turn to, no one to trust, no one who actually understood me at all. And what, Tarble, were you doing all these years that was so damn important that you couldn't bother so much as letting me know you still existed?"

"Uh…" Tarble stuttered, glancing down and to the right, "I, uh…well, you were with Frieza for a really long time…"

"And that ended twelve years ago," Vegeta interrupted. "Clearly you knew that, since you knew where to find me. What else did you have?"

"Damn it, Vegeta, it's not like you were out looking for me!" Tarble challenged back.

"I didn't think you were alive!" Vegeta shouted. "Our mother was only halfway through gestation when I was sent off to Frieza and Vegetasei was destroyed! You had never been born, and our parents died with the planet. As far as I knew, you were inside her when she died. How the fuck could I have known that you weren't there with them?"

Tarble glared at his big brother. "Well it's not like you even tried to find out!" he retaliated.

"Tried?" Vegeta asked incredulously. "I was nine years old and had just found out that my family, my kingdom, and my entire planet were nothing more than space dust. And I found out from the son of a bitch who turned them in to space dust, and then decided to make my life hell until his ended! When, Tarble, could I have gone out looking for you, even if I'd had the slightest inkling that you were out there?"

Lunging forward, Tarble shoved his brother. "Why do you even care?" he shouted back. "Everyone in the entire universe knows that the great Prince Vegeta doesn't believe in family, friends, or any form of companionship. Why would I want to go out of my way to hunt you down only to have to call me a weakling for giving a damn about you?"

"Well, you sure made a hell of an effort to find out!" the taller Saiyan shouted, batting his brother into the wall. "Did it escape you completely that maybe, maybe, after decades of forced servitude and no where to turn, I might have been needing someone to help me find stability?"

The anger that had been building up in the smaller Saiyan vanished even faster than it had started. "What are you talking about?"

Once again trying to reign in his anger, Vegeta took a large step back. "You have no idea how fucking lucky I was that the woman is as crazy as she is," he growled. "She was just insane enough to put up with me and challenge me without being afraid of me, and she was the only one in the universe who gave me a real chance."

Taking his own step back, Tarble tried to point out, "Kakarot…"

"Wanted to give more chances to the Ginyu Force and to Frieza himself," Vegeta spat. "He wanted be to be 'better', not to be me."

Slowly, Tarble nodded in full understanding of what his brother had been saying. "She passed no judgment on you for your flaws," he softly said, "and tried to actually understand you. I do understand, brother, and I am sorry that I did not take the opportunity to come and see for myself what you were like."

"For the last time," Vegeta said in a deep, slow voice, "do not call me that."

"But why?" Tarble asked. "We are brothers!"

"In genetics only," the elder prince growled. "Some day we may be more, but until that day comes, do not refer to me as such."

A hurt look crossed Tarble's younger features. "I do not understand," he softly said. "What is wrong with using a phrase to establish familial relations?"

Vegeta caught his brother's eyes, and held then in his own gaze. "Look, there's a really long story behind this, but you are not the first completely unexpected family member I have ever had magically showing up in my life and demanding that I fit some preconceived role based on such a title. It has happened before and I…it did not end particularly well for either of us."

"I still do not believe that I understand," Tarble slowly answered, "but I shall abide by your request, on one condition."

"I do not make deals with people I don't know," Vegeta growled.

"Then get to know me," Tarble demanded. "I will refer to you however you wish, so long as you give me a legitimate chance to form a brotherly bond with you. A chance, Vegeta. That's all I ask."

The elder prince hesitated for a moment. He was unsure of how he felt about the entire situation. A small part of him wondered what it would be like to have an actual sibling, a pureblooded family member to bond with. Another part still felt betrayed by the idea of being left alone until there was no way to avoid it. But the part that won out was the one that thought about how Bulma would react to finding out he had turned down such an offer.

He shuddered as he thought of the horror that could bring.

"Very well," he finally answered. "But if you wish to bond with me, be prepared to spend a lot of time in this room."

Taking in his surroundings again, Tarble finally asked, "Yes, I've been meaning to ask you, Vegeta, just what the hell this room was…"

"Where I train under hundreds of times Earth's gravity," he boasted with a smirk, turning to leave the room. "I hope you have been keeping up with your training."

Tarble gulped. In the environment he had been raised in, serious training had never been necessary. He had learned how to fight and stayed active for fun, but his abilities were barely higher than a completely untrained Saiyan. There was no discipline in his technique, and from what little he had gathered of his brother's power, his strength was lacking at best.

As he watched his brother leave, a small smile crossed Tarble's features. He had come to the planet hoping to find the ultimate weapon to use on his enemies, and nothing more. But perhaps, if he was lucky, he just might end up with the full family he had always hoped for.

/\/\/\

Author's Note: Okay, a part of me wants to just end it there, and a part of me wants to turn this into another multi-chapter story. Any thoughts?