The Edge (Warning: Is Dark.)

"Sir, you owe over two thousand dollars in tab in several bars in West City alone, not to mention the rent Miss Briefs is charging you for your time at Capsule Corp. While she hasn't mentioned anything since the original request, her father demands we press charges if the pay does not come through within the next week. Mister Vegeta- you're liable to spend most of your life doing community service to work off your debt, if not in prison...I suggest you find a lawyer, because-"

"DAMN IT," Vegeta clenched the large cell phone, tightly, his body straining as it tried to let its fury loose on the damned thing. He'd been given it by the Earth's government to insure he could be contacted, and he would have disposed of it long ago- except, the piece of 'plastic' seemed indestructible, even by his might. A thin line of tears dripped off his chin, making small stains on his pants and the lookout. "And damn you too, Nokia..."

The annoyingly pleasant sounding man on the phone continued speaking, asking if Vegeta needed help of some sort- but the Prince was no longer listening. His body loosened, and the indestructible, ancient communicating device dropped onto the edge of the lookout, wobbled, and fell down, plummeting to Earth. His hands went to his face his fingers digging into his hair and scalp, inflicting pain. The pain... It eased his hurt, somehow. It...reminded him of wars, of worrying about nothing but how many things had to die.

But things and people were different. This damned planet had imbedded that into him- everything living, breathing, deserved a chance at life. And it was that... That damned ideal that stopped him every time he tried to revert. Yes...The Prince had tried time and again to kill someone, to waste the planet and move on- and he always came close. It was one of the reasons he'd been issued that phone, which probably had a tracker in it, too. Dozens of innocents reported being attacked by him; at first, people said he was crazy, and had multiple personalities. Then someone suggested he was retarded, or addicted to some strange super drug- all of which were wrong. But it seemed that, once that title was tacked onto him, there was no shaking it. Vegeta was, as far as law was concerned, "insane."

The prince's body shook, another wave of self pity, woe, hate, sadness- another wave of depression pushing through him. He choked back the tears- he wouldn't lose it here, in front of Kami and that damned Genie. He took a shaky breath, focusing on the parts of him that weren't human or humane- that parts that could fly and kill with just a flick of the wrist, then let out a scream. He fell forward, and the scream grew more broken, filled with vague sobs and breaths. He simply free fell, swearing things in his mind- Just die; your planet doesn't need you. Bulma doesn't want you. Just let yourself fall, damn it!

But he didn't. Flames erupted around him, charring the ground, searing the tower behind him. The few people standing around scattered, and Vegeta roared again, the flames rising higher. He shot back into the air, heading away- away from people, away from his cursed existence. The air burned around his aura, smoke rising from his body, steam rolling by as he entered the northern regions.

For once, he wasn't leaving his life behind to train, or to fight, or to find Kakarot or Frieza or even Broly.

No... Vegeta was leaving to die.