Chapter Text
10/20/764, 33678 WST, West City, 05:45 AM.
Vegeta groaned when the alarm clock blared next to his ear. He groped around the desk surface, searching for the phone. After turning the alarm off, he dropped the phone next to him, huffing with annoyance. The irking tune of his alarm clock still clinked in his ears, echoing in his brain.
Vegeta curled under the blanket, turning on his left side. He stared at the window, watching the raindrops crawling down the glass. Gentle rain taps on the windowpane lulled him, evoking memories from his home planet. On Earth, rainfall was an integral part of the weather. On Sadala, it was a reason to celebrate.
He threw the duvet away, rolling out of bed. Today was his 24-hour shift, and he should be at his best. He had decided to shower before he went to sleep last night to give him more time to wake up this morning. Vegeta got up on his feet, picking his folded uniform from the chair. No matter how tired he was, Vegeta always washed and ironed his work outfit before the next shift. Military habits die hard.
The last night shift was intense. He and his crew got over fifty emergency calls, ranging from traffic accidents to near-fatal drug overdoses. After six years of working with criminal and domestic violence incidents, Vegeta became convinced that human casualties' main reason is irresponsibility or ignorance.
The icing on the cake was fifteen missed calls from his girlfriend. The reason? To make sure he would not skip her mother's birthday. Bulma's overbearing personality drove him up to the wall at times.
Vegeta yawned and rubbed his eyes, plodding to the guest room. His black menkhad cat, Eshalo, curled on the floor pillow, covering her nose with her paw. She raised her plushy head, greeting him with a quiet "meow. " Vegeta chuckled, scratching between Eshalo's pointy ears:
"Stop stealing from the garbage can, you foolish animal. It wouldn't benefit your digestive system." He narrowed his eyes," Do you want to see the vet again?"
Eshalo meowled, arching her back and nuzzling against Vegeta's arm. Vegeta shook his head and trudged to the bathroom. He left the door ajar - Eshalo may cry and scratch it when shut.
Vegeta brushed his teeth when Eshalo slinked in. The cat meowed, rubbing against his legs. Vegeta glanced at her, chewing his toothbrush, "Wait a minute. I'll feed you soon." He spat out the toothpaste and slid into his uniform pants. "Don't be a pain in the neck, okay?"
Eshalo rolled on her back, exposing her tummy. This behavior could be translated as: "Feed me, two-legged creature, and I'll let you scratch my belly. Deal?"
"Blackmailing?" Vegeta raised his eyebrow, pulling his black shirt over the head. "You can't be serious, Eshalo. What a dirty trick." He walked out of the bathroom, going toward the pantry. "Come here, you little bandit."
Eshalo chirped, bouncing behind her owner. Vegeta opened a can of wet cat food, placing it into her bowl. Eshalo pawed at the edge of the table, trying to reach it.
"Patience," Vegeta mumbled, resting the bowl on the floor. Eshalo rushed to it, ravaging down her meal. Vegeta grabbed his lunch from the fridge and peered down at his wristwatch. Five minutes left before taking off. Vegeta filled the cat bowls with fresh water and dry cat food. Eshalo finished her meal and jumped back on the floor pillow, licking her paw.
"A true Saiyan appetite." Vegeta shook his head, snickering. "Behave now. I'm off to work." He zipped his uniform jacket and adjusted his backpack. Eshalo stared at her owner, kneading the cushion's fabric.
Vegeta hopped onto the window sill, unlocking the nailing fin. A breath of chill, fresh air burst into the room, making him shiver. He closed the window behind, jumping off. He despised the local public transport, so he preferred to take the risk and fly.
Vegeta flitted over the city, hiding in the mist. The cold and murky weather conditions prevented him from observing the city's morning landscape. Only the skyscrapers peeked out from the veil of mist. A thin, golden ray of light glinted through the curtain of clouds. An icy, strong wind blew into his face, messing up his hair and ripping off his clothes. Cold rain droplets spotted his heated face, dripping down his chin.
He landed next to the main entrance of Angelic Intergalactic Hospital, located in East city. The place served as one of the biggest intergalactic hospitals on Earth. Vegeta pressed his work pass against the time clock, entering into the warm, spacious hall. He ran his numb, cold fingers through his damp hair, catching his breath. A quiet, reserved voice called:
"Vegeta, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Yes? What is it?" Vegeta turned his head, rubbing his cold palms. Chockola, the hospital's chief secretary, sat behind the light olive-colored reception desk, sorting documents. She observed Vegeta's stature and raised her neat-sculpted eyebrow:
"Adjust your uniform jacket, please. It's twisted."
Vegeta shrugged, doing as asked. Chockola shuffled her papers, adjusting her thin-rimmed glasses on her nose:
"Doctor Parsal asked me to inform you about a meeting before the shift. He emphasized the importance of the upcoming conversation. You can visit him now."
"Thank you, ma'am." Vegeta tilted his head in agreement. Chockola was the very picture of what Vegeta hated in officials. She had a dry, formal, and dull personality with zero sense of humor. Even her voice makes him sick to the stomach.
Vegeta dragged his feet to the stairs, dripping over the smooth, clean marble. What's the matter this time? Another lecture about his team's "stubborn" attitude? He and his crew members, Lazuli and Piccolo, worked together for six years, saving lives without inessential pep talks. Can't they catch a break from all the "team spirit" speeches?
Vegeta reached the office and knocked. He wished that Parsal would forget about their meeting, and he could return to his duties. His hopes were shattered by the muted, "Come in!" He sneaked into the office, grinding his teeth.
Doctor Parsal, a robust man in his early sixties, leaned back in his office chair. He served as head of EMS services in the hospital. As a Saiyan combat paramedic in retirement, he handled his job with great success. His colleagues respected him for his honesty, trustworthiness, and proficiency. He flipped through the pages of the morning newspaper, humming under his breath.
"Ah, Vegeta." He raised his tired eyes, rubbing his forehead. "Close the door and grab a seat."
In front of doctor Parsal's desk sat the rest of his crew: Lazuli and Piccolo. Vegeta contorted himself next to Piccolo, giving him a questioning look. Piccolo shrugged, folding his arms across the chest. Lazuli inspected her fresh manicure, ignoring her surroundings. Vegeta shifted on his chair, trying to ignore the sticky and cold sensation of the clammy and damp uniform against his skin.
"Thanks for stopping by boys and girls." Doctor Parsal rested the newsprint aside, locking his fingers together. "I'm pleased to inform you that your crew will get a new team member, Cabba. He finished his formal training a couple of weeks ago. In my opinion, he got the right qualities, but his knowledge is limited to theoretical."
Parsal sipped from his glass. "The main reason for attaching him to your crew is your quick and competence way of work," Parsal chuckled and narrowed his eyes. "The vast majority of your colleagues see you guys as a bunch of headstrong and vain assholes. I consider you as a productive and skillful team."
"A backward compliment, sir?" Vegeta pinched his lips together. "Fine then. When will he join our crew?"
"This afternoon, after your lunch break." Parsal pulled his pipe out of the desk. "Do you mind?"
"Nope." Lazuli lazed on her chair, tossing her hair aside. "Cancer can develop in anyone. Even inside the chief of EMS department."
"Sharp, as usual, miss Gero." Parsal took his pipe out of his mouth, which created a spice-scented cloud of smoke. Lazuli gave him a cold stare, narrowing her eyes:
"My name is Lazuli, sir." She leaped from the chair, turning on her heels toward the door. "See you in the parking lot, guys."
Lazuli stormed out from the office, disappearing into the vestibule. Parsal puffed another spiral of fragrant smoke, clearing his throat. "Touchy, aren't we?" He mumbled.
"Surname issues." Piccolo chuckled, getting up from his chair. "Don't take it personally."
Doctor Parsal knocked his pipe on the ashtray. "Oh, and one more thing before you leave. I ask you not to scare Cabba in his first shift. Wait until the third."
"We will act in our usual manner." Vegeta slid out of his chair. "The boy should know who the people he is going to work with are."
"There are twelve more minutes left before your shift, so I wish you a calm and safe day." Parsal pulled the newspaper closer.
"Enjoy your cancer pipe, sir." Vegeta gave him a mocking salute. "We are going to rescue some lonely elders and losing their marble junkies."
"Get the hell out of here," Parsal smirked. "The nerve you got, kid."
Both men vamoosed from the cabinet, rushing towards the elevator. Vegeta tucked his hands into the pockets, grumbling:
"Wonderful. Another obstacle to deal with."
Piccolo glanced at him. "We haven't meet Cabba yet, and you're up in arms already. Take it easy."
"Tch." Vegeta's mouth twitched. "The only thing I care about is a passably clean vehicle. Someone had a rough night in a previous shift, judging by the ambulance seats and roof." He pressed the button on the shiny panel. The cabin stopped with a slight creak, and the glass doors gaped.
"Whatever you say, Vegeta." After six years of going through thin and thick, Piccolo learned to read his churlish crew members. The best thing he could do at the moment is to leave Vegeta be.
Vegeta and Piccolo entered the elevator, departing to the parking lot. Piccolo leaned against the elevator wall, following the readout. Vegeta paced from one corner to another, chewing his lower lip.
"Lazuli probably picked out a sanitized vehicle for us. " Piccolo broke the silence. "There is a small chance she will equip one by herself."
"Her? Psh. You wish." Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Our lady would not bother herself with such plebeian activity."
"She provides emotional support for the patients and deals with the bureaucracy," Piccolo observed the sight through the elevator's glass doors. "Those are useful skills. Yet, as her ex, you know better."
"Hmph." Vegeta scowled, leaning against the metal bar. The elevator stopped, shuddering a bit. Piccolo and Vegeta stepped out, passing by the long row of ambulances. Lazuli's voice echoed from the other side of the lot, "Hey! You two! We've got a call from the 911 operator. There is a dude who's hunting rainbows and unicorns out there!"
"This is our cue." Vegeta and Piccolo glanced at each other and sprinted to the ambulance. Lazuli sat on the padded bench, tapping her foot, "Finally! You made it just in time!" She huffed, screwing her face. "I had to equip the car alone! Where've you been?"
"Give it a rest," Vegeta hopped into the van's cabinet, taking a seat. "You can do it once in a blue moon. What's the address?"
Piccolo jumped into the driver cabin, starting the engine. He glanced at the GPS unit, "WST 22387 BX. Ten minutes from the hospital." Lazuli buckled her seat belt, giving Vegeta a poisonous stare. The latter grumbled, folding his arms. Here they go again!
***
Cabba sat straight on the chair in the staff break room, huffing and staring at the clock on the wall. At two PM, his future crew should return to their lunch break. Cabba fidgeted in place, trying to calm his thoughts before their meeting. His fingers and toes tingled, and his stomach was in knots.
The older colleagues warned him about the hostile attitude of crew 22-B - the one he's going to join from now on. Cabba tried to convince himself that his colleagues exaggerated the situation. He tugged the collar of his uniform, noticing that there are five more minutes left. What a nerve wreck!
Two minutes later, distinct steps and muffled voices came from the vestibule, which led to the break room. From what Cabba could tell, there was a heated discussion between the people outside.
"I told you to transport the patient to the ambulance cabinet right away!" A gruff male voice barked. "There is no chance we could stop the bleeding on the field!"
"The patient was distressed!" A sultry female voice snapped back. "Don't you understand? Thank Kami that we've managed to apply a tourniquet, which bought us time!"
"You know, there was an interesting detail that bothered me," A low, calm voice noted. "The patient jabbered about a stone creature and a tall man in a gray hoodie that shattered it. I assume it was the person who called 212."
The door opened, and three people crammed in. Cabba raised his gaze, observing the visitors. Two men and a woman stood at the entrance in wet paramedic uniforms. One of the men was a colossal Namekian - he was at least 7 feet tall. The shorter man was a Saiyan, and the blonde woman was an Earthling. His future crew had arrived.
Cabba's heart dropped. He plastered on a smile and cleared his throat. It's going to be okay; they are not going to eat him. Right? He closed his eyes and let out a breathy, "Hello!"
An awkward silence filled the room. All the crew members turned their heads, giving him a curious stare. After a couple of moments, Cabba realized that the Saiyan was none other than prince Vegeta. Sweet Mother!
He jumped on his feet, trying not to buckle, and saluted. Vegeta frowned, shaking his head, "Calm down, boy. I'm not your prince anymore." Cabba gulped, lowering himself back on the chair. The blonde woman snorted, grabbing a chair next to Cabba, "Don't be harsh on the boy, your highness. He tried to be respectful. What a cookie." She pinched Cabba's cheek.
Vegeta ignored her, "So, Cabba. I'll give you a short briefing about our duties." He rested himself on the chair, examining Cabba. "Our unit specializes in high-priority cases, such as drug overdoses, domestic violence, felony victims, and road accident casualties. You must have guts for this position - mental and physical." He sneered.
Lazuli huffed, casting a glance over at Cabba. The boy turned pale, and a sweat drop trailed down his face. She gave Vegeta a death glare, patting Cabba's shoulder, "Take his speech with a grain of salt, cookie. It's hard at first, but you'll adjust quickly."
Piccolo smiled reassuringly, "Our unit may be hard to work with and in it, but you can gain a decent experience for your future career in the field. I suggest you eat well before the shift because all you'll get later, it's a cup of coffee."
Vegeta stretched at his place, squeezing his eyes shut, "And one more thing. If you are hesitant about any issue - ask us. Better safe than sorry, especially in our work. One wrong move, and the patient will end in the mortuary. Is that clear?"
Cabba drew a shaking breath and gave a weak smile to his crew. Yes, they had a grumpy and rough attitude, but his intuition told him that he could count on them at any moment. Cabba stood up from the chair, walking towards the refrigerator. His first field experience promised to be interesting.