Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lost ❯ Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Author's Note: This fic will have a rotating, sometimes over lapping first person narrative for all parts… with whoever is best suited to tell each part doing so. The narrator will be noted at the beginning of each part. Also Goku's thoughts are far less disjointed than Vegeta's because he is still sane. For now.

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Part 2
Goku first person narrative
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He has problems with being touched. Then again, he always has problems with being touched. He is VEGETA after all. But I didn't know the severity of his dislike until he broke down.

~

They are hurting him. Breaking him down slowly. He has no resistance left, not here. They are doing things to his mind. He isn't Vegeta anymore.

~

I don't think anyone is as aware of his loss than him. I see it in his eyes, whenever he looks at me, which isn't very often. There is such an extreme loss there that I can't even fathom the torment he is going through.

I want out. I want to escape more than anything.

~

I also want to be with him. He is dying. It is more instinctual than anything, a faint scent in my nostrils, an intuition. He is dying and there isn't anything I can do about it, besides be with him and watch him slowly, silently, fall apart.

I don't know what makes him hang on…

I only know I don't want him to leave me. Not here.

~

I fed him with the half of the scraps they left by the door. I have to force feed him. He isn't into eating anymore. Or speaking. Or doing much of anything.

He is cold. Distant and cold. I can never guess what is going on in his head. Once upon a time his emotions used to dance across that face as clear as the light of day. Anger, rage, pride. Now there is nothing there.

I want to help him, but he won't let me.

I hold him and let him beat on me and do whatever he wants to me.

I don't care. As long as I am near him.

~

They take him away from me periodically. I fight and protest as much as I can. That doesn't help though, it only ends up leading to him, stupidly, having to defend me.

When he is gone I pace the length of the dark cell and curse. I want to break free. I want my energy back. I want to be able to break both of us out of this horrible place. Whatever Vegeta, or my species, has done in the past, no one deserves this. I feel angry.

I want to kill something.

Really truly kill something… take something alive in my hands and crush it until it is no longer living, until gore seeps through my fingers.

I never feel this way. Something is wrong with me. I sit down and hold my head in my hands.

Though I will never admit it, I think this place is slowly killing me as well.

~

I don't know how long it is until they return him to me. It could be hours… it feels like days. Time stands still here.

He is clean, despite his now ragged human clothes, and as silent as ever. He doesn't look at me. Not that that isn't unusual.

He is jumpy, as we lay beneath the blanket in the back corner and shiver. He jerks away whenever I touch him, then he moves back and cuddles even closer, almost apologetically. I stroke his hair and wonder at his utter submissiveness. He hasn't been this bad before. Ever.

Worried, I try to reassure him in anyway that I can. I try to talk to him, but that just makes him furrow his brow more. He doesn't want to talk. He never does.

He confuses me tonight, by doing something I never expected him to do.

He kisses me.

I try to pull away, confused at his actions. He follows me. He's being aggressive now, crushing his lips to mine. When I try to protest and question him, he bites me.

He wants to have sex.

This is another trick. It has to be…

He hits me. Hard. Demandingly.

Then he sneers at me, tauntingly. He really wants me to do it.

My cheek throbs. My head hurts.

~

Something inside of me snaps.

~

I hurt him.

Badly.

Blood drips down the inside of his thigh, decorating his olive-toned flesh. I stare at it, uncomprehensively, before realization sets in.

What have I done?

The long low howl of despair I let out makes him flinch. But he still won't look at me.

I get off of him, scrambling to the side. I cup the side of his face, forcing him to look at me. "Why, Vegeta?" I ask.

He tries to look away. My desperation out weighs his will to turn away. "Why?!" I demand again, my voice going shrill.

"You're hysterical," He replies coolly. The corner of his mouth twists in a parody of a smile. "Finish what you started."

"But Vegeta," I say, choking on my words. "I didn't start this. You did." I am crying now, tears streaming down my face. There is definitely something wrong with me. "I didn't want to hurt you, I…"

He looks at me. For the first time in a long time I see emotion on his face. It is something akin to pity. "You feel too much," He rumbles. "Don't." He leans up and licks my cheek, clearing it of both blood and tears. His actions are gentle. Then his arms tighten around the back of my neck. I draw in a quick breath, tensing.

He doesn't let go.

"Just tell me why," I whisper. My face is barely inches from his.

His eyes glitter dangerously. "Because." He pauses. "They'll hurt him if you don't." He continues.

He doesn't say who.

For a long moment I think that he means me. Then I realize. My eyes widen. I pick a child. His. "Trunks?" I question, incredulously.

I should know better than to let things that happen here shock me. Especially after all this time.

He is silent. That's the only answer I need.

They have Trunks. Oh God.

Vegeta's teeth graze against my other cheek. It is a warning that I understand.

My stomach twists. They're trying to turn us against each other. I don't want to loose him. I don't want this…

Our mouths meet again. He is slower this time. This time the actions are a lot less forced.

This is going to happen, whether I like it or not.

The only thing I can think of to do is make it as comfortable as possible for him.

~

I bring him to completion this night with my mouth and tongue. His hands press delicately into my hair as I do so. Those hands leave to clench at his sides as he comes with a small whine in the back of his throat. I don't hurt him again; I make sure of that.

I only hope that it will be enough.

He sleeps. He actually sleeps restfully after that. He doesn't seem to care how close physically he is to me as he is curled against my chest. I wonder at that.

I run my hands through his hair as he sleeps. He doesn't smell as strongly of death any longer. I wonder at that as well.

For the first time in a long while I feel hope.

Maybe we'll survive this after all.

~

Hope comes too soon. He attacks me again the next day, almost as badly as the first time. Flies at me in a rage, hits me and screams unintelligibly at me. I don't defend myself again, and he curses me for that too.

I won't fight him. I tell him that.

~

He breaks down. His rage seeps away, leaving only weariness and pain and a knocked over water pail. He sobs outright, gnashing his teeth and beating his fists against the cold unyielding floor.

I want to touch him. To reassure him. But I can't. I don't dare too right now.

I can only watch from a distance.

~

They take me from me again. The white clothed men. I am helpless to do anything. He cries out in pain as they hit him in the back of the skull as they drag him from the room.

You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

~

He is weak, weaker than I've ever seen him. He can barely stand when he is returned to the cell tonight, and is delirious for hours. He's been hurt badly. Bruises stand out boldly along his skin and his eyes wear a hunted expression.

Now he stares at nothing, white faced and tense. He doesn't respond when I touch his shoulder, concerned. When he speaks I become even more concerned.

"When I die you need to make sure he's okay," He says, still staring off at nothing. "He" is Trunks.

"You aren't going to die," I reply, automatically. Even as I say it, I know it is a lie. It's cold in the cell presently, and both of us are shivering. I feel weaker than an untrained human child right now, which means that he is much worse.

He ignores my protest. Perhaps he knows it is futile. "They will kill me in front of you." He continues. "Or they will make you do it." He gives a half shrug. "Maybe they'll let you have some fun first…"

"STOP IT!" I shout at him very loudly.

He turns his head slowly and smirks at me. The expression on his face is a knowing one. It frightens me.

Vegeta… please don't do this to me.

I don't say it out loud, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being alone in here. I'm afraid to be alone. I don't want him to leave.

~

It is awkward tonight. His makes an uncertain sound in the back of his throat as I pull him to me beneath the blanket, then he curls into me quickly. Apologetically again. A trembling hand clenches my shirt.

It's not just his hand. He is trembling. All over.

I remember two things at this. The first time he broke down, weeping against my chest, and the night I hurt him myself.

I feel guilty. "Vegeta," I begin.

He grunts.

I lift the blanket from around us and wrap it around him carefully. "I'll go." I say. I eye the cold bare corner on the other side of the elongated cell and reluctantly get to my feet.

I hardly expect the reaction I get from him.

"No!"

I look back at him, surprise crossing my face.

"No," He repeats, this time in a whisper. He just looks at me, wide eyed and horrified.

"Veg--?" I begin.

He launches himself at me, unexpectedly. He pushes me down, burying his head against my chest. "Don't…" His shoulders begin to shake. I stare down at him, stunned, before I realize that he is crying. Again.

My heart aches, remembering the pride he once had.

"Shh… Vegeta…" I murmur, feeling slightly awkward. I bring my hands up and lay them across his back. "It's okay…"

Apparently it isn't, he merely begins to sob harder. He curls in on himself, pressing his hands against the sides of his skull. "Get out of my head!" He shouts. He slams his fists against his temples again and again. "Get out!" His voice ends in an odd desperate note. Then he falls silent. Still.

Unmoving.

Blank.

I think it is only then that I realized the severity of damage done to Vegeta's mind.

~

When I finally manage to coax him into sleep, I don't leave him. I can not sleep either, and instead choose to sit awake, watching his troubled brow in the meager light. He is haunted by nightmares, often tossing too and fro, whimpering softly.

He is considerably better when he awakes, for which I am glad. He sits in the corner and snorts softly at me as I busy myself with bringing him some of the food that they have slipped under the door. For a fleeting instant I see a shadow of the old Vegeta in that look. It isn't much, but it is enough to make me happy.

Unfortunately my happiness is not to last.

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