A/N: As the title suggested this is AU. This story takes place in modern times. Gohan and Trunks will make an appearance, but they are NOT going to be related to Goku or Vegeta. There will also be no flying, no energy blasts and no Super Saiyans allowed either…^_^;;  In this story, our boys, are in their teens again and their ages are as follows:

                                                         Gohan - 20

                                                          Kakkarrot – 19

                                                          Trunks – 19

                                                          Vegeta – 18

 

~ denotes thoughts

 

CHAPTER ONE:

 

Eight pair of anxious eyes watched as the jury filed back into the courtroom. Each held their breaths as the court clerk walked up to the stern-looking judge to announce their arrival. With a nod, Judge Watson glared reproachfully at the twelve jurors and then barked out in clipped tones,

 

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

 

The oldest man in the motley crew stood up, swallowing tightly as he quivered beneath the icy stare.

 

“Yes, your honor.” The man replied in a shaky tone. “The jury finds the defendant guilty of third degree assault and burglary and has been recommended to serve four months in the Robert Smith Home for Boys.”

 

A loud ‘WHAT?!!’ was heard from said defendant, before his companions quickly hushed him as the judge banged on the table for silence and then turned cold eyes to the standing group.

 

“Vegeta, step up here please?” he commanded, pointing to the glowering young man.

 

The gravity-defying, spiky haired boy walked up to the judge, not wavering his eyes from the older man’s. He refused to be intimidated by his surroundings and he was determined not to show them how much the punishment affected him. He stopped as the judge raised his hands to stall his movements.

 

“Do you understand your punishment, Vegeta?” The judge said in contempt.

 

He could not understand why he was still in this district, having to listen to punk kids from rich homes get in trouble all the time. He figured that the Juvenile facility might be at maximum capacity with all the new inmates that arrived each week. It was the same old bullshit. Rich kid goes out for kicks, robs, steals, hijacks a few cars and whoo hoo! It is off to Juvenile School. Sighing inwardly, Judge Watson stared at the new recruit. The boy looked like he didn’t give a damn about where he was going to….except for the outburst earlier.

 

“Well, son. Do you know where you are going to?” He asked again, as Vegeta remained mute.

 

“Alright, wise guy.” He continued, getting pissed off at the insolent attitude. “Since you feel you are too big to answer, I think another month will be in order for you.” And raising his voice louder, he announced to the courtroom. “Order!! I hereby sentence Vegeta, to FIVE months in the Juvenile Correction Program. Hopefully, he will learn how to speak coherently by then. Court dismissed!” He finished smugly as he got up from his seat, smirking in satisfaction at the flash of disbelief and then anger on the younger man’s face.

 

“NOOO!! This cannot be happening!! Not to my baby!!”

 

Vegeta felt his face flare up in embarrassment at his mother’s outburst. A snicker followed quickly as his younger sister, Vivian, tried to hide her smile. Obviously, big brother going off to a Home for Boys was going to become the major high point of her conversation with her girlfriends. A strong hand placed itself on his shoulder and it took all of his energy not to swipe it off.

 

“I am really sorry, son.” His father said, rubbing the stiff shoulders in soothing motions.

 

“Hopefully we can appeal this. I intend to reduce your sentence, Vegeta. I hope you trust me on that one.”

 

Vegeta glared at the scrawny man who called himself a lawyer. He could almost laugh at the stupidity of it all. He had watched as his parents had paid a ridiculous amount of money just to get the man to defend him. Well…so much for that.

 

The jangling keys of the warden snapped him out of his reverie as his mother’s wails became even louder. Smiling ruefully at his family, he stretched out his arms as the cold steel of the handcuffs gripped his wrists. Whispering silent goodbyes to them, he followed the police officer towards the exits to the waiting bus that was to take him to the strictest boot camp in the city.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

It had all been a simple prank really. No one was intended to get hurt. I mean, why would they want to hurt a little old lady in a wheelchair. Except for the fact that the pesky old woman had refused to move her contraption out of their way.

 

“Hey buddy, your first time in the joint?” came a foul breath next to his ear. Vegeta cringed and pulled away slightly, turning around to glare at his acne-faced, sweaty-fleshed seat companion.

 

~ The joint? What the hell is he talking about? ~

 

“Actually, Stinky, it is my first time.” Vegeta snapped in irritation, hoping that his tone would finally send the message to the slob.

 

“Huh, huh…” the boy laughed, sniffing through a stuffed nose and spitting out onto the dirty bus floor. “Yeah…this is my second time. Huh..huh…”

 

~ Good grief! How much farther, before I kill someone on this bus. ~

 

Turning out to observe their destination through the dingy windows, he noticed that they were now out of the busy city streets and were now headed towards the more desolate roads of the highways. Shifting his wrists, as the tightness of the handcuffs chaffed his skin, he let his mind wander back to the events of that fateful night.

 

He and his friends had just gone out for a fun ride. It was on a Saturday night and their football team had just won the Regional finals, so all of them had decided to have a night just to relax and have fun; that was until, Rick, the all-star quarterback had made up his mind to rob the local gas station. “Just for kicks.” He had said. And like the stupid little sheep they were, they had all agreed. They had walked into the store, posed as casual shoppers, while they had stuffed their windbreakers with pretty much crappy stuff, bubble gum, candy, little odds and ends, just your basic crap. One of the guys had the sudden bright idea to do a stick-up and had pulled out his father’s gun, pointing it at the now startled shopkeeper. Vegeta had gotten pissed off at that point, his head buzzing a bit after all the alcohol he had consumed earlier in the evening, because he hadn’t wanted to get involved in this way.

 

Someone had called the police and the boys had tried to make a quick getaway, only to be confronted by an old woman who seemed to have trouble maneuvering her wheelchair. Problem was, the old lady was right behind their convertible and try as hard as they might to move the woman along, she had refused to leave. Bobby, the guy with the gun, had pointed the weapon at the woman in frustration and just at that minute, the patrol cars had screeched their way into the parking lot and the rest, as they say, was history.

 

Their parents, except for him, had bailed out all the other guys. His father had decided that his son was innocent and so had called the stupid lawyer. Now, he was going to the Home just because of the useless man’s weak defense. At the back of his mind, Vegeta figured his father did it just to punish him. This wasn’t exactly the first time he had gotten himself in trouble.

 

Vegeta jerked his head back up as the sound of opening metal gates filled his ears.

 

~ Man! This place is huge! ~

 

Surrounded by very high, brick walls lined with electrical barbed wires for added protection, The Robert Smith Home for Boys was an impressive building. From the outside, the structure looked like one of those old world universities. High turrets and large windows graced the large castle-like building. The gardens and estate that surrounded the buildings were lush and fertile. It could have been a peaceful place or a place for a little rest and relaxation except for the armed guards and military clad men or boys that walked around the facility.

 

The bus slowly came to a stop beside one of the many smaller buildings, appropriately named BLOCK ‘A’. A line of armed guards stood waiting for the new arrivals and Vegeta felt a slow prickle of nervousness as the most intimidating person he had ever seen stepped out of the line and onto the front of the bus. Dressed in complete army combat uniform with a hat placed firmly on his head, the burly-looking man saluted the bus driver and then began making his way into the vehicle.

 

The bus seemed to quiver and shake as the man made his way into the bus. All the boys visibly shrunk in fear as he glared at them with icy blue chips. He seemed to occupy the bus and he was basically sucking out the air from it as well. Vegeta noticed that his seat companion had begun wheezing in an apparent panic attack and several other boys had begun whispering…probably prayers…. behind him.

 

Vegeta watched as a grim smirk graced the man’s sour visage.  Puffing out his chest, the man bellowed out in a voice that sounded eerily like thunder.

 

“Welcome boys!! I am Major General Flint and I will be your new living nightmare!! I hope you kissed your mommies and daddies goodbye, because from now on, I will be your lord and master! I rule this kingdom and YOU are my slaves! You will eat, sleep and breathe me! I will make you suffer, so do not expect any mercy from me if you screw up!! Some of you already know me and so do not expect anything different! Step outside boys and come and see your new shin dings!! Welcome to Juvenile Hell!!”

 

 

 

 

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