Sweat dripped from his creased forehead onto the ground, seeping through the tiny crevices leaving nothing to remember it by. He panted for breath as he hunched so as to accommodate his rough hands on his knees. He was tired, angry, angsty, hurt and depressed. Everyone hated him, he knew. They call him a tyrant, a murderer, a freak, demon, sadist, jerk, monkey, bastard. Honestly, he was used to it to a point where something sweet and endearing would offend him. Was it that or was it the fear of what would happen to him if the same mouth that cooed him, cursed him? Shaking his head, he walked slowly towards the large tree. He was alone, like always. He liked being alone. Company was never of help, nor was solitude in all honesty but the latter seemed to make him feel comfortable, more than words ever did. He had seen many people in his life, who wanted nothing more than to render him limbless till nothing was left of him. His only motivation was to rule the universe and be immortal... No, it was to stay alive. He wanted to protect himself, protect the kid in him who he simply locked out in his heart. Sometimes the kid in him would scream at him, plead him to help him smile if not laugh, but he'd shut him out, afraid that the cold world would snatch the little warmth he had in him. He may have been a cold blooded murder, a literal killing machine, but he too had a heart, it just takes the right people to see it. He used to think that his heart was nothing but a mere organ that helps him live. That narrative changed when he met them, not all of them, a specific 'them'.

He had lived the life no one ever deserved to. The things a little boy had to see with his innocent eyes meant for vibrance, he wished he never knew. How can someone, let alone a parent, send their little kid away with someone they know for sure will hurt him? What kind of a cruel monster could his father have been to give up his four year old son to a slithering Arcosian? The gelid eyes scanning him, boy the memory was still fresh, as if it was mere seconds ago. The way those repulsive pale fingers glided through his hair, the tugging of his soft tendrils, the scathing and brusing, he wished he could forget. How could he when they were the only thing that made him what he is today. He sighed and pressed his head to the tree trunk. Gory memories resurfaced once he closed his eyes, forcing him to glare at the daylight. It was almost sunset & the bright hues made him feel weird. He preferred darkness just like he preferred loneliness. Pitch black scared him but he loved the stars, the tiny jewels that lit up the midnight darkness. Darkness was frightening, for it reminded him of that monster, those eyes, the little floating pod and those creatures. Light scared him more because unlike darkness, it gave him hope, an emotion he learned not to feel over time. He closed his eyes again, he was tired and couldn't help it. The involuntary reflex, as simple as it may sound, caused another bashful memory to resurface.

'What's that thing behind you, Vegeta?' a cold voice asked his father as little Vegeta clung onto his old man's legs.

His eyes opened immediately. He hated that memory. This was going nowhere, he sighed. Maybe if he let it play out, he could finally find some relief. With that thought, he closed his eyes, inviting the horror to join him again.

'huh?' the king's stony eyes looked down at the kid hugging his leg, almost cutting off the circulation. A callous hand gripped the scruff of his spandex, pulling him up front till he was eye level with the source of the hideous voice. Sure enough, he didn't like it. Something about those eyes triggered his instincts to run, as far as he could and as fast as he could and he would've gladly obeyed if it not were for the hand that held him there. 'this is my son, Lord Frieza'

The ice demon's eyes glinted darkly and a smirk appeared on his face. 'fascinating' he said as his pointy nails grazed the side of the kid's face. 'I assume you are going to send him into the force?'

'Yes, Lord Frieza'

'Good. I knew you were wise' the Arcosian smirked, his eyes following the little kid as he was lowered onto his feet. Vegeta looked to his either side, an uncertain look on his face when a pair of feet that screamed detestation appeared in front of him. One of the three toes lifted his chin so that his eyes were once again peering into the cruel opposite.

'How many?' Frieza asked, his tail trailing down the kid's face.

'Lord Frieza?'

'How many kills?'

'He hasn't killed anyone yet, Lord Frieza' the King admitted shamefully. Frieza tilted his head disapprovingly.

'Well, how disappointing.. Does he at least know how to use his powers? If not, it's a very lousy start and I for one, hate lazy monkeys' the Arcosian hissed, creating a small ball of ki in his hands, ready to obliterate the small kid who blinked his frightened onyx eyes.

'H-He does, my Lord'

'Very well then' Frieza made the ball of ki disappear. 'let's see.. hmm' he searched around the room and gestured for a guard to come forward. The poor woman trembled as she bowed before the frost demon. Frieza smiled evilly as he picked the toddler up in his arms,

'Now, brat. Create a ball of energy' he commanded. Confused eyes, pricked by moisture, darted to his father who glared at him, urging him to comply. With a ghost of a wince, he did as he was told and created a small ball of lethal ki in his hands. Frieza smirked as he forcefully positioned his hand towards the woman.

'shoot' the cruel voice rasped.

'Do it brat' the king commanded sternly,  making the kid release the blast. The next thing he knew was a gut wrenching scream followed by a thud and blood.

'Problem solved' Frieza smirked and dropped the kid to the floor. The woman's blood stained the little prince's soft skin, tainting his innocent soul forever.

His eyes snapped open and he had to blink several times to make sure he wasn't back in the past. With a groan, he slapped his face. He desperately hoped that someday he could forget those memories, that someone would replace them with happiness. They were trying, only, he wasn't letting them in. It wasn't his fault that Saiyan children could remember everything since their infancy. Maybe it was a curse, he mused.

Unbeknownst to him, a little squirrel sashayed onto his outstretched legs while he continued glaring at the unsuspecting sky for no particular reason. He took no notice of the small creature till it peered suspiciously into his almost hollow eyes. Those caramel eyes held warmth, how ironic. He was once told that animals had feelings too but he couldn't care less. Why should he? It's not like he was going to talk with them or find solace. Irony indeed, he was actually staring at the creature with a frown, contemplating his thoughts. The old version of himself would've blasted the fur ball as soon as it lay it's clawed foot on him. He wasn't the same man, he knew it. The squirrel sniffed him, probably wondering if he was a bad nut, and tilted its head curiously. Did it mean he was bad? Good? Neutral? Alive? Dead? He had so many thoughts running in his mind. How the hell did the innocent creature find him safe enough to climb on? Was it because he was as still as a log? Or was it because he could actually be trusted? He had no idea. The bead eyes of the furry creature gave him a once over before it's tiny feet carried it away from him. His own eyes followed the trail, wondering if the creature actually helped him. He let out a soft sigh again and slumped against the bark.

'Lord Frieza.. can I visit my father?' a six year old Vegeta asked Frieza. How pathetic! He had to ask a slimy lizard in order to visit his home planet, his Kingdom.

'And why is that? Is the little prince bored of killing?' the sultry voice of Zarbon filled his ears. The tall pale green skinned abomination smirked, patting Vegeta's flame hair.

'Yes, you can, Vegeta. Do me a favor and purge planet straw before you do so' the same old cold voice of the Arcosian descendent spoke up.

'Lord Frieza seems to like you, brat' an ugly pink alien spat.

'Is mean old Dodoria jealous?' Vegeta taunted with a smirk. Rolling their eyes, the two powerful aliens pushed him into a room where he was forced to join Nappa, his personal bodyguard, and Raditz, Kakarot's brother.

Killing. That's what he knew. That's what saved him from Frieza's brutality. Oh how he wished he didn't have the blood of innocents on his hands. But could he blame himself? He barely had a choice. It was either kill or die and a child knew no better than to see tomorrow. Purging was what Saiyans did, what they prided themselves in. It was wrong, horrible to be specific, but it was the circle of life. They weren't born sinister, they were made to become cold blooded murderers. They say it's in their blood, he would never say otherwise but just because it's in his blood didn't mean it was the go to excuse. Most of his kills were a personal choice, a choice a kid had to make, a choice to survive. It wasn't survival of the fittest, it was survival of the coldest. He had become an expert at shielding himself, all rationalism evaporating into thin air whenever he stood facing his prey. A tiny part of him would tell him to turn tail and run away, to not saturate his golved hands with innocent blood, but why would he listen to it when all of his instincts screamed bloody murder? Warp. Like plastic warping under flames, his mind was twisted and turned into something he couldn't fathom. He was a mere child, a mound of fresh clay ready to be shaped. While he wanted to be sculpted to perfection, he was carved by brutal tools to become a broken piece. Was it who he was? Nothing more than a monster? If yes, then why does 'he' consider him a friend? Why does 'she' love him?

He had seen many women in his life, he had seen masked women, scaled, green, slender, short, abnormally tall, stout, vixens, sirens, repulsive and more. He never really did care about any while his lusty comrades wanted nothing more than a piece of them. For him, the female species was a complete enigma. He never knew his mother nor did he care. He prided himself in resistance. A glimmer of lust was natural, especially when you are surrounded by people clouded by said emotion. It made him sick. He vowed not to allow any of the opposite sex stop his mission. Somehow, one particular woman managed to tear through his meticulously constructed walls. She seemed to know all of his weak points. She seemed to know him all too well. That scared him yet he couldn't resist her. She was a human but had the fire of a Saiyan, kind of like the only person to ever get away with commanding him. The woman was beautiful, gorgeous he'd admit shamelessly and seemed as stubborn as he was, only, she was wiser than him, softer than he could ever be. She was loved, by literally everyone. She had men wagging their tails behind her, men who could genuinely keep her happy but she chose him. He never understood why but he played along. Was it because he was strong? His rival was strong too but he was taken. Is that why she chose him? Did she want to use him? Did she want him for intimacy? Is that what she desired? But if it were so, why would she support him? Why would she stay by his side even when he slapped her hospitality right on her face? Why would she go through the immense pain of bearing him a cub? Why would she soothe his nightmares? Why would she hold his hand when the others eyed him warily? Why would she love him? Why SHOULD she love him?

Stupid question, he slapped his forehead. Then with a groan he realised that it was actually valid. She was the richest person on the planet, a vixen and a genius. She had everything one could ever want so why would she choose someone like him? He had nothing to offer, no throne, no title, no money, no support, except his pride and strength. If she really wanted protection, she could have stuck to that weakling Scarface. Even though he hated to admit it, the weakling was stronger than most humans on the planet and could protect her from any harm. She could be assured that the clown and his brats would protect her from stronger threats. Even after the various possibilities, she chose him. The woman was persistent and loving. Despite his flaws, she never once made him feel insecure. She accepted him wholeheartedly and gave him everything he ever wanted. She treated him like a King, the title destiny had so heartlessly snatched from him, even when he treated her like a slave. She was stubborn, retaliated to his whim which somehow made him grow fond of her. He could never understand why she stayed. He was used to people abandoning him due to his harsh nature but she was an exception. He could never tell if he was grateful for that or frazzled about the possible misfortunes.

Parenting wasn't his best forte, nor was compassion. Still, he was a parent and a family man. His 'brat', as he referred to his little boy, was a perfect combination of himself and his mate. The kid's face was just like his father, sharp and dusky while his eyes were just like his mother's, mesmerising amethyst. He remembered the time he wanted to run away from the world he was trapped in, the merciless fate that did nothing but show mercy to him. The irony. He gulped hard at the memory of himself marching into his infant cub's room while the child wailed. His progeny, something he was never prepared for. He never had responsibilities nor did he want any but there he was with a mate and a child. He had vicious thoughts, ones that made his skin crawl when he recollected them. He was thankful to whoever was perched up in the heavens that the boy had his mother's eyes, for the child reminded him so much of his own miserable life that if it weren't for those beautiful eyes that reminded him of the warmth, he'd have had no remorse in eliminating the innocent life. He was no parent, he was a monster.

Vegeta had apprehensions about his son when he spotted that the brat was born with ridiculous purple hair. He had only the woman to blame for that. Then again, it was his choice to mate with the blue haired human. The brat turned out to be a fine kid with strength he never possessed as a child. At the age of 8, his son was already a super Saiyan. He was proud of the kid and would so hesitantly admit that he loves the kid.... He loves his mother... Isn't that why he blew himself up? To protect his mate and cub? Oh how he hated the conflict. He could remember his final thoughts. 'Trunks, Bulma, I do this for you and yes, even for you Kakarot..' why did he sacrifice himself for that clown?

The third class idiot, also known as clown in Vegeta's dictionary, was far ahead of the prince in everything and Vegeta hated it, hated him. He hated how he smiled, like he had no troubles at all, how he goofed around, how he laughed, how he fought, how his friends loved him, how his mate and son loved him, how kakarot's own brats adored him.. he hated how he made him feel, like he was one of them, a man worth accepting. Ever since time, Vegeta's father fed him verbal poison that drove him insane for power. He was promised the throne, his whole planet was destroyed. He was promised the legendary transformation, Kakarot achieved it first. He was promised victory over Frieza, Kakarot and Vegeta's own son from the future killed the tyrant. He was promised happiness, he was made to kill. Vegeta never had what he wanted and he envied Goku for that. The clown was sent to earth, grew up with his friends, had adventures, found a mate, had two brats and had strength the prince could not fathom. His friends loved him, his mate practically fawned over him and his kids looked up to him, adored him. Even though he had almost everything a man would ever want, the clown still chose to extend his friendship to Vegeta.  Even after he literally tried to destroy Earth, Goku spared his life. When frieza killed him, Kakarot honoured his prince by giving him a decent burial. When Cell decided to blow himself up to obliterate the planet, he gave his life up to save them. When Majin Buu showed up, he fought hard to save his friends and family. To the prince's astonishment, the clown didn't kill him when Babidi possessed his mind. No one pointed their fingers at him when he revealed that letting the wizard control him was his personal choice and it was sickening. Despite all his atrocities, they gave him another chance. Why? Was he really worth it?

He screwed up literally every time. He let his pride rule him. It wasn't an accessory, he was his pride's accessory. His ego always got the better of him. He assumed himself to be superior when he so heartlessly purged those planets. He let his gloating ego consume him when he let Cell absorb 18 to become perfect, endangering the whole planet. He let the whole world fall to ruins when he let Babidi control him. He almost killed Kakarot, the person who brought joy to everyone and somewhere deep within, to him. He never cared for his mate or brat, always spending his time training, trying in vain to surpass the clown. He had done nothing good, except birthing the brat who practically saved the entire universe. Even his sacrifice was in vain. Then why did they still want him? Was he really worth the love? The trust?  One of the many things that seemed to go unanswered.

He was so engrossed in his musings that he failed to observe a pair of wide black eyes observing him with child-like curiosity. Goku frowned as the prince did not notice his presence, something unlikely for someone like Vegeta who always had his guard up. The prince was literally staring at his hands like there was some secret that would soon unravel itself. Shaking his head, he placed a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, jerking him out of his thoughts. With wide startled eyes, Vegeta looked up to meet the goofy face he so hated and adored at the same time. His surprise was replaced with a scowl.

"What are you doing here, clown?" He spat in anger of being disturbed.

"Nothing" Goku shrugged casually. "Your ki seemed weird so I followed"

Vegeta's scowl deepened "Is that so?"

Goku grinned "Yup! I was sparring with Gohan but then I felt your ki receding. I thought it was weird because you never usually leave the GR. I tried to follow your signature and it ended here. By the rise and fall, I figured you were training.. more than usual" he said with a little doubt "and then it felt weird so I thought I'll check on you. Everything okay?"

"Why do you care?" Vegeta hissed. The amount of detail the baka put in his analysis scared him. Did people really care? So much that they knew almost everything about him?

"What do you mean?"

The prince took a deep breath. Maybe he should talk to the clown, sort some things out. He let him live, gave him a second chance at life, he deserved some explanation. Maybe he should open up a little. He had nothing to lose. If he set his pride aside for a moment, maybe, just maybe he could gain something, a friend.

"Why..  why do you care, Kakarot? It's not like I've been a good friend.. Or a good person.."

Goku frowned at the statement. "Why would you say that?" He asked, the frown intact, and plopped down cross legged on the ground, beside the prince, facing him.

Vegeta looked away for a moment "Let's be honest, Kakarot, I'm not like you. I'm not good or amicable or whatever. I've never let anyone of you near me and yet you always seem to care" he said and turned to face the confused man. "Why? Is it even real?"

For the first time, the prince saw a look of hurt flicker on the usually cheerful face. He winced internally. 'real smooth' he thought in all sarcasm he could muster to himself. 'Why did I even ask that?'. In all the time he'd known the clown, he was always sincere and never faked anything, except masking his pain to reassure his loved ones.