Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of its characters!
Agent: I've started rewriting this fic, my writing style has changed. Chapter one has been officially revised!
It wasn't normal for the Prince of Saiyans to wake up on cotton sheets. He tossed uncomfortably. He was used to his cool silk sheets. Even on the hottest nights, the sheets brought him comfort as he'd slide into bed, the sheets cool against his skin. He kicked the thin sheet off, funny – he recalled having different sheets and more blankets…He shifted his arm to wrap around his lover, Bulma. His arm found the bed, his fingertips grazing the wall. He grumbled slightly and cracked his eyes open, irritated Bulma was not there. It was still dark in his room. He rolled back over and reached blindly for the small lamp and his fingers found nothing. Odd….He hadn't broken it recently. He felt for the nightstand and still, emptiness.
Bulma must have finally gotten fed up and left his ass. He smirked; finally he would have some peace and quiet around the house. If she was still here, he'd give her a chance to beg for forgiveness for having the audacity of leaving him. They'd scream at each other then have a good round of angry fucking. A slightly exciting day for the Prince. He stretched his arms over his head, cracked his neck and got out of bed. The floor felt different beneath his feet, as if he was walking on a shitty mattress. It shifted under his weight as he walked. He staggered as he walked right into a wall. He grunted and frowned, reaching forward to find the wall again. He pressed into it, the fabric beneath pressed in. His eyes narrowed to slits. What the fuck is this? He followed the wall around the puny room back to the bed. It had to be one fifths the size of his room. This is not an accommodation worthy of a prince! The question now, where exactly was he?
He traced his steps back through the day. Uneventful breakfast and coffee, boring conversations with his woman, sparring with that brat of a son, uneventful lunch, brief annoying phone call with Kakkarot (he can use a phone?), four hour jog, uneventful dinner, two hours of training, uneventful fucking with his woman, then blissful sleep. The phone call was strange; Vegeta was truly shocked Kakkarot could use a phone. He couldn't say he was listening to what the other Saiyan was saying, something about his bitch of a wife, Vegeta hung up once he got too bored. He did recall Kakkarot seemed upset. His training was far more important than anything he wanted the other saiyan to help with.
The most logic thing in this situation was of course he was still dreaming. He wasn't fighting; which narrowed it down to a damn nightmare. This was something new, normally most of his nightmares revolved around the numerous times he was killed in battle. Somehow, it felt real. He could feel the hot sheets, the plastic walls… he could practically smell them.
A soft voice reached his ears, a child giggling? He peered around the room, seeing and sensing no movement. Then a voice, muffled. The voice was familiar but the tone and syntax was different. His eyes followed the voice outside the wall until they came to a stop.
A sharp pain flared behind his eyes, he shut them as the darkness was suddenly lit up. A faint buzz from the florescent light filled his ears. This is nothing. I've fought much worse than an annoying buzzing sound and too bright lights. He slowly opened them again, the pain remaining as he took a step back from the wall and spun to take in the room. It was simple enough with only a small basic bed in the far right corner. There was no frame on the bed; the mattress was set on covered concrete. The same material adjourned the walls. The room was…Unsettling. The voices continued, the words too quiet for Vegeta to understand what was being said.
A monotone woman's voice spoke overhead. "Patient 27575261, step away from the door." Vegeta narrowed his eyes. He was a Prince, no one (especially not a woman) told him what to do. He returned his gaze back to the walls, following them until they reached an area where there was an outline of a door, not too far from where he was currently standing. There was a soft click and the door started to disappear behind the wall, he made a dash for it. He would escape this room, then beat the hell out of everyone in sight. He was to the door when he came face to face with a wall of glass and…
"Kakkarot?" He reached forward, his hand touching the thick glass. What the hell was he doing there? Did he have something to with this? What the hell was he wearing! Questions flooded his mind.
The other man regarded him silently for a moment. "Patient 27575261, I'm glad to see you're awake." He took a look at the clipboard full of papers in his hand. "It says here you've been progressing nicely your violent outburst have been minimal. It was recommended by your psychiatrist that you be moved out of confinement and with the others."
"My what?" Vegeta said breathlessly.
"Your Psychiatrist, Doctor Yume. He was concerned about your emotional well being after the last incident but he felt you would do better with social interaction. It is key to getting you back into society, which is our goal here." Vegeta was at a loss for words. Kakkarot was standing in front of him, in a neatly pressed suit and white lab coat but it was not him. Those were not his eyes. Kakkarot did not have lifeless eyes, they should be filled with kindness and revolting happiness This was…an android copy of him! Out to destroy him!
Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms. "You think you can fool me with this horrendous copy of Kakkarot? I thought the androids were more intelligent than this but your stupidity is amazing me."
Kakkarot's expression never changed. "Mister Begeta. I am the primary inpatient psychologist, Doctor Goku Son. I am neither Kakkarot nor an android. I am here to help you. There is no one named 'Kakkarot' here, I assure you." He brought the clipboard to his side. "This behavior is not acceptable here Mister Begeta, you know this. You were making such improvements." He sighed heavily and shook his head.
Vegeta's eyes widen in fury. He struck the glass as hard as he could, it didn't waver. His name was again wrongly repeated, fueling his anger. He screamed and hit it again and again, the skin of his knuckls splitting and bleeding. "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH! Don't fucking call me Mister Begeta ever again! My name is Veeh-gee-tah!" The glass was littered with his blood but it still stood. It should be in a million pieces; this android should be nothing but a pile of wires and metal at his feet. Vegeta huffed in a deep breath. Where was his strength? He concentrated his ki, ready to go super Saiyan and kick some ass. He was disturbed when absolutely nothing happened.
"I've taken note of it, now if you're done with your tantrum, we can proceed with your daily medication. I will have my assistants restrain you if necessary. You don't want that do you Mister Begeta?" The Prince growled under his breath. Too tired to really fight. He was powerless and weak in this dream – A true nightmare.
"Good. Now step away from the door and sit on your bed. This will be easier if you comply." The glass moved sideways into the wall. Should he…try to escape? Knock them all down and run as fast as he could? In his current physical state…was this at all possible? The running part seemed a lot more interesting to him. And a lot more sane. Vegeta's hands fell to his side and he went back to the bed, sitting upon it. He would get some answers first and kill whoever is behind this. He was shocked at the two familiar faces to walk in, two pathetic Nameks: Piccolo and whateverthefuckhisnameis, the small green one. Vegeta's first instinct was to fight, that's what he does.
"Patient 27575261 needs some assistance with his medication." The three descended upon him. Their faces disturbingly void of any emotion. The Nameks took hold of his arms. "This is for your own good. This makes you feel better." A forced smile came to his face, nothing like Kakkarot's disgusting smiles. "This won't hurt at all!" He took a syringe from his coat and uncapped it. A deep blue glowing liquid filled it. Vegeta hadn't seen anything like that before. It was something he did not want coursing through his veins. He struggled with the Nameks trying to pull them into each other; to his dismay, his arms barely moved. Vegeta eyed the syringe warily. The Saiyan in front of him was not Kakkarot. If his memory served him, when Kakkarot saw a needle back on planet Namek, he had become a sobbing idiot and he wasn't even going to be given the needle. Vegeta had wanted to shove the thing down his damned throat to shut him the hell up. Low laughter filled his ears like a strange echo, like before. The copies mouths never budged. It was more chilling than if they would have. Who was laughing?
His arm was shoved by the android Piccolo and then his wrist held up. "I will not be put through these atrocities!" He pulled his arm in vain as he felt the sting of the needle not so gently pressed into his vein. The liquid quickly dispensed into his blood stream. He instantly felt a wave of dizziness overcome him. He felt an oddly gentle hand on his back.
"It's just a side effect of the medication; it will wear off in a minute." If only that damned third class Saiyan was really here, he'd take care of these pesky androids then they could spar. The Nameks released his arms and silently left the room, followed by the imitation Kakkarot. As the glass slid shut Vegeta's eyes met with this Kakkarot as he turned, an oddly wide grin on his face. Vegeta felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "We're glad you're here Patient 27575261. We want to help you. We want what's best for you."
"If you want me happy so badly, just let me the fuck out of here!" He started for the glass.
"I'm afraid we can't do that. You will hurt yourself and others, again. After today, I believe we will need to put you in a jacket to keep you safe. I will have a nurse come in and look at your wounds and bandage them. I'm very concerned about your outburst today. You've been doing well. I will have to let Doctor Yume know about this, he will be saddened by this news. If you behave, you can attend dinner this evening with the rest of the patients."
Vegeta laughed. "Behave? I'm not one to behave."
The fake Kakkarot's lips twisted into a horrid wide smile, "I guess you don't want to eat then. More food for the others. Less pain for me too." He gave a sharp nod. "Good day." With that, he walked from sight; the plastic padded wall taking his place.
Vegeta stared at the wall, trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened. This dream, Androids had taken him captive and were trying to fuck with his brain by making copies of his acquaintances and being creepy? It didn't make any sense, not that they ever did. Why were they going after him? Last time they went after Kakkarot? HA! They've finally realized who the strongest being in the universe was! Vegeta thought with a smirk. He found his way back to the bed; it looked less and less inviting with each step. In all his anger, he didn't notice the lights had dimmed. He lay on the bed, feeling the warm cotton under his hands. Once he got a look at the place he could devise an escape – no. He dropped that train of thought. This is a dream and he would wake up once he went to sleep. He willed his eyes closed but his thoughts wandered. If he found sleep, would be wake up to his bed and Bulma?
To be continued . . .