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Resolution on a Lonely Planet	By : Ulrike Category: Dragon Ball Z > General Views: 5386 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or the DBZ characters. This is a fanfiction written purely for entertainment. No money was made from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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TW: Mention of rape, torture, and assault.

Still searching, Goku’s body ignored the coldness of the wind and the growing ice on the grass around him. His fingers gently rested upon Vegeta’s temples and his eyes clenched together with concentration. It had been several minutes and Goku was still unable to sense any life within his fellow saiyajin. It was beyond frustrating, but something within the optimistic warrior told him that Vegeta was not gone from this world.

The sound of feet touching ground caught Piccolo’s attention and he peered over his shoulder-pad to see Tien and Krillin standing behind them, an unconscious Yamcha slung over Tien’s muscular shoulder. Gohan was no longer hiding under his old master’s cape, but standing close to his father as if trying to sense life within the saiyajin prince’s body, too. It was a dreary scene to behold on a day that had been perfectly normal for the rest of them.

“You should probably bring Yamcha to Capsule Corp.” Piccolo said softly. “I think it’s best that Bulma knows everything that has happened.”

“How can we even tell her everything that happened?” Tien barked. “WE don’t even know what really happened here!”

Spinning angrily, Piccolo bared his fangs at the pretentious warrior. “Well HE does,” the namek growled, nodding his head at Yamcha. “So get lost!”

Tien stepped forward as if he wanted to say more, but Krillin turned quickly and powered up.

“Let’s go.”

Rising from the ground, the short fighter glanced down at Tien, hoping the tall warrior would forget about his annoyance with Piccolo and leave the grotesque scene. The three-eyed man let out an annoyed huff and spun on heel to follow Krillin. Blasting from the ground, Tien disappeared into the sky with Yamcha, angrily leaving his allies to deal with the mess below. Krillin’s dark eyes lingered on Goku’s still back and he opened his mouth to speak, but found that his words failed him. It was just too bizarre and unnerving to think that humans, most especially the human that lay dead a few feet away, may have killed Vegeta. The memories of Vegeta’s tortures at Frieza’s hands and tail were still too fresh and the little bald man felt nothing but pity for the saiyajin prince if he had to relive a similar situation all over again. No wonder he was the way he was.

Sadness overcame Krillin and he slowly retreated into the sky. It would be hard to explain to Bulma what had happened, especially since it involved the houseguest she had suddenly seemed closer to, her boyfriend that she loved dearly, and one of her most respected scientists.

Piccolo watched as the short fighter in orange finally left the scene. It was all for the best. The wise namek knew that Tien didn’t like him or Vegeta. Knowing that he was inferior to both the aliens in power, the three-eyed fighter often became too arrogant and insulting when dealing with such serious situations. His anger was not needed and Piccolo understood that it would only derail Goku’s focus. Krillin was too emotional and the pity he felt for Vegeta, Yamcha, and Goku was also distracting. The humans that fought for planet Earth were just irritating and Piccolo was glad to see the fools leave. Goku needed answers and Piccolo would ensure that he received them.

Darkness enveloped all of Goku’s senses, but it was calming in a way. He discovered he had the ability to read minds after training so hard in his Capsule ship on his journey to planet Namek. Goku had never intended to gain such a talent, but through his meditation and intense self-sparring, the third-class saiyajin suddenly realized that he was able to read the images imprinted in people’s brains. Like a slideshow, Goku had been able to view Krillin’s adventures on Namek, allowing him to quickly understand situations and events that took place without discussion. Goku could feel every emotion and ‘hear’ every thought that Krillin had experienced as if Goku had lived it himself.

It was a skill that the super-saiyajin had never really practiced or used since. He swore that he would never use such a technique on someone without his or her permission, as it was so personal and invading. Yet, he had to connect with Vegeta. He HAD to find some trace of life within his rival as proof that the powerful fighter was not dead. Goku had been the only full-blooded saiyajin alive when Vegeta was killed on Namek. The realization made Goku feel sad, lonely, and misunderstood. He would not allow it to happen again.

The kind-hearted saiyajin did not realize that his mind began to wander to darker places; places that he had tried to force out of his mind. Perhaps it was his sudden ability to read minds, or maybe it was the fact that he and Vegeta were last saiyajins alive, but Goku received disturbing, haunting images from the saiyajin prince’s deceased mind during his battle against Frieza. Even though it had been hours after Vegeta’s murder, there was a moment where Goku’s fevered mind seemed to connect with the saiyajin prince, as if the warrior had spoken to him beyond the grave. Goku couldn’t recall the events too clearly, as he was almost defeated by Frieza and teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but he remembered seeing shockingly violent images of Vegeta’s past. The third-class wondered if he was perhaps losing his mind during the battle against Frieza, but the short clips he saw of the prince’s passing life brought immense waves of emotion that were not his own. Goku had never felt such feelings of terror and guilt and shame. He had never even witnessed such horrifying events in his entire life. He knew these were real…and he never wanted to bring it up to the haughty, grumpy prince.

Frieza had tortured Vegeta. He used the prince in sick ways, ways that Goku could not comprehend or understand until he felt the emotions and thoughts that accompanied the racing images. During the battle with Frieza, the ghosts of Goku’s ancestors and kings spoke to him, encouraging him to defeat the creature responsible for killing his people. Vegeta was there, his clothes having been torn from him, leaving him naked and vulnerable. But he stood strong and proud and spoke with the other ghosts, preaching to Goku in a way that filled him with a saiyajin pride he didn’t know he had. In between the moments of clarity when Goku could truly hear what was being said, the awful flashes of Vegeta’s past screamed inside his head madly. No one was controlling the random, nightmarish visions and Goku still wondered why and how he was the one chosen to see inside the mind of Vegeta.

He knew that the arrogant fighter wasn’t even aware it. How could he? He had been dead and buried hours before the battle really got heated and Goku began to lose. It was a mystery as to why Goku caught the prince’s thoughts and why they had only occurred for the few moments he was almost defeated by Frieza. For whatever reason Goku was allowed to see into Vegeta’s past, he was thankful, for it had given him a renewed strength and fiery anger to defeat the evil that had killed and tainted so many people.

…. “It is truly pathetic how much you thought you mattered…”

The words suddenly burst so clearly through the silence that Goku visibly jerked, the unfamiliar voice echoing through his head like someone speaking in an empty room.

“In a universe where no one cares about you at all, do you truly need to exist? Your power, strength, and importance only mean something to you. To us and all those around you, you are merely disposable trash…”

Screaming…SCREAMING! The blood was running down his legs and drying instantly from the searing heat. The agony…Oh God! Make it stop! STOP! He’s not even here, he’s not even aware of what he’s doing! This isn’t Yamcha…couldn’t be. He can stop this! Stop Yamcha! STOP!

“You are a murderer, Prince Vegeta. You are a worthless, vile animal who destroys the lives of everyone around you. And now, you will be disposed of in the same way you carelessly killed others. And no one will care.”

He’s powering up! He’s going to incinerate him! The pain is too much. So much blood, so much madness. The look in Yamcha’s eyes. How could he do this? What is happening? Why is this happening?! Vegeta’s arms—they won’t move! He won’t fight back—he can’t fight back! Why are all those men just standing and staring at him? Why are they grinning? Vegeta’s burning alive! Yamcha is raping him! He’s raping him and smiling! Why? WHY? Vegeta!!

Goku’s tortured screams resonated throughout the woods, his voice shrieking madly in the cold air. Piccolo grabbed the jerking saiyajin as his hands flew to his head, his fingernails digging into his temples as he screamed and thrashed violently. Gohan cried out to his father, but the hulking namek pushed him back. Goku was clearly unwell and it appeared that he had stumbled onto some disturbing imagery within Vegeta’s mind. If he had, it meant there was still a chance to revive the saiyajin prince.

Trying to calm the deranged fighter, Piccolo pulled Goku’s gnarled fingers from his scalp. Grabbing Goku by the wrists, the giant fighter shook his ally harshly before drawing back one clawed hand and slapping the powerful warrior in the face, leaving a few bloody lines across Goku’s young face. With his eyes still squeezed shut, Goku’s screams quieted and he let out a shuddering moan as he tried to shake the flashing images from his mind. Gasping for air, the third-class saiyajin squinted one eye open and fearfully peered around as if waking from a nightmare.

Surveying his surroundings, Goku was immediately brought back to reality as he viewed his son’s stricken, pale face and Piccolo’s large hand around his wrist. Jerking his hand from Piccolo’s grasp, he spun around and almost fell on top of Vegeta’s prone form. Quickly gathering the smaller man into his arms, Goku stood and, without a word to his son or friend, flickered and disappeared from sight.

Krillin’s heart pounded loudly in his chest as he and Tien made their way toward the front door of Capsule Corporation with an unconscious Yamcha in their grasp. The situation was still hard to handle, especially since no one knew what had occurred. Krillin began to tremble as he prepared for a very high-strung and extremely upset Bulma to greet them at the door.

Sparing a glance at Tien, Krillin drew in a large breath and held it as he rang the doorbell. Capsule Corp.’s main entry-way clanged with an extravagant chime and the two earthlings couldn’t help but roll their eyes. Whenever they visited the Briefs, the warriors of Earth were reminded of Bulma’s wealth, something that was often forgotten as she threw herself in danger right along with all of them.

The door clicked and unlocked, revealing the forever happy face of Bulma’s blond mother. However, the moment her squinted, cheery eyes met the unconscious Yamcha over Tien’s burly shoulder, she gasped and straightened her back.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Briefs,” Krillin said. “We need your husband right away. Yamcha is…”

“Out cold!” Panchi Briefs cried, as she stepped aside and opened the door wider.

As the two warriors stepped inside, Yamcha let out a low, long moan. Tien and Krillin shot each other anxious looks and entered one of the Briefs’ many living rooms. Approaching the big, squashy couch by the wall, Tien gently placed his friend on the soft cushions.

“Mom, who was at—“

Bulma stopped immediately as she caught sight of her two close friends and their bleak expressions. She was dressed in her gray Capsule Corp. worker suit and was in the process of pulling off oily black gloves.

“What is it?” She asked, her voice wavering slightly. “Who’s on the couch?”

Walking quickly alongside Tien’s hulking frame, Bulma gasped as she took in her boyfriend’s prone body. Besides being unconscious, he appeared to be ok—his white shirt and black pants a little scuffed and dirty, but otherwise she could see no terrible injuries. Glancing at Krillin and Tien in confusion, she sat down on the edge of the large couch and placed a hand on Yamcha’s forehead.

“So…what’s going on here?”

Krillin sighed and shook his head, his thoughts immediately racing as images of Vegeta’s pale and torn body flashed through his mind.

“So much has happened, Bulma, however we really have no idea what is going on,” Krillin replied softly. “Yamcha is unconscious, but other than that, he has no wounds. But…but something terrible has happened.”

Bulma’s large blue eyes slowly turned toward her short friend and Krillin could see the growing unease on her face. The bald monk lowered his head and closed his eyes.

“Vegeta is dead.”

Panchi gasped loudly, her trembling hands flying to her mouth as her eyes opened in terror and shock. The thin woman had affection for everyone, and hearing that the young, handsome saiyajin was dead made the loving person break down with sobs. Bulma, however, could only stare at Krillin as his face remained pointed toward the carpeted floor. Her blue eyes darkened and she could only mull over the words he just spoke.

“How?”

Krillin opened his mouth to respond, but Yamcha let out another saddened moan before suddenly shaking violently. Bulma leaned forward and caressed her lover’s face as his black eyebrows lowered and cinched together. His teeth clenched and another whimper escaped him.

“He’s been unconscious for a little over an hour, we think,” Tien explained. The warrior thought of the two thugs who casually stood over the scarred man, calmly aiming a gun at his head as he slept. “We don’t know if he was knocked out in a fight or poisoned or what.”

“Veh-Vegeta…”

The room stilled as Yamcha’s weak, pleading voice filled the air. Bulma’s heart hitched in her throat as her boyfriend’s expression creased into a look of despair. Everyone in the room held their breath as they waited for the pained warrior to wake up. However, their stomachs lurched at the thought of how Yamcha was involved with Vegeta’s death, and why he appeared so very distressed.

“Yamcha, wake up,” Bulma begged, her hand stroking the scars on his face gently. “Come on, honey. Wake up.”

And with her urging, Yamcha’s eyebrows lifted. His lips parted and one bleary eye cracked open. Slowly, he took in the blurred shapes before him before gasping and attempting to sit upright. Panic took over his features and he clumsily brought back a fist to ward off the shadowy figures surrounding him.

“No, get back!” He hissed, his movements disoriented and shaky. “Stay away from me, you sick—you fucking—“

“Yamcha!” Krillin yelled as Tien drew Bulma away from the flailing man. “Stop, it’s us, Yamcha!”

But with his eyes half closed and body slow and sluggish, the scarred fighter still attempted to ward off the people near him. His limbs tingled and he felt unbelievably weak. Trembling terribly, Yamcha tried to push himself up, but found he couldn’t even lift his upper body from the cushions under his shoulder blades. It wasn’t until a sharp smack to his face that Yamcha slowly began to rationalize the situation at hand.

His body was numb and he couldn’t even call upon his energy. The poison. The energy-crushing solution within his veins was holding his power at bay. But why weren’t Skip’s men harming him? Why was he still clothed, unharmed…and why was he lying on a comfortable couch? His surroundings smelled familiar, as did some voices in his distant recollection. Soft fingers brushed against his cheek again and he found himself turning away and closing his eyes. Bulma’s hand.

“Yamcha, you’re ok now,” his blue-haired beauty whispered as she ran her fingers through his black hair. “You’re safe.”

And at these words, he pressed his face into her hand and slowly leaned forward. Bulma wrapped her arms around her broken fighter and hugged him tightly as he began sobbing into her shoulder. Her blue eyes grew misty as Yamcha gripped her with his trembling hands, having never seen the strong warrior cry so freely or be so terrified. She peered over at Krillin and Tien, who watched the scene with clear surprise on their faces.

It took an hour for Yamcha to finally pull away from Bulma’s warm embrace, but even as he sat upright on the couch, his hand wrapped tightly around hers, all he could do was stare at the wall in front of him. His black eyes were glazed and occasionally tears would form, his mouth was pursed and his breath would hitch in his throat, but Yamcha still hadn’t spoken. Bulma’s mother returned to the living room with tea, her face drawn into an expression of worry and sadness. After placing the tea down on the coffee table in front of her guests, she glanced from one anxious face to the next.

With her lip quivering, Panchi burst, “Will someone please explain what happened to poor Vegeta?!”

Yamcha’s head snapped to the side and his wide, dark eyes stared unblinking at the blond woman. Krillin nervously shot a look toward his stricken friend and then up to the innocently loud hostess who stood clasping her hands in front of her. No one intervened as they, too, were desperate to get the story from Yamcha. The man dropped his gaze and he slowly shook his head as if waking from an awful dream.

“Vegeta…Vegeta is…” At the bottom of a cliff with his brains seeping from the left side of his skull. “Dead. He…he’s dead.”

“What happened, Yamcha?” Tien asked urgently. “We find Vegeta’s body at the bottom of that drop-off and that one guy…”

“Skip,” Krillin muttered.

“Yeah, Skip, completely smashed only a few feet away. Then you’re being carried off by those two guys who are about to shoot you in the head! What kind of enemies are we dealing with here?”

“Skip?” Bulma asked.

Krillin glanced at Yamcha, who still remained staring at the floor, and then to Bulma. She met Krillin’s eyes and saw the shadowed expression haunting him.

“Your worker. The scientist.”

“Skippy Sato-Jenkins?” Bulma asked with a strangled laugh. Yet as she looked at all the sullen faces, her amused smirk faded. “What the hell does my Leading Project Scientist have to do with any of this?”

When Yamcha bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, Krillin could only shrug. Talking past Yamcha, the bald monk recounted the details of the nightmare they found at the bottom of the cliff. He told Bulma about the energy levels they felt from Yamcha and his disappearance from their minds. He explained the damage done to Vegeta and Goku’s distraught reaction to the prince’s suffering. Tien and Krillin went into detail about Skip’s body and the chase to find Yamcha. They told Bulma step-by-step how they happened upon her boyfriend lying unconscious on the ground as the tall, lanky punk aimed a gun directly at his head. The two villainous humans were described in detail, how the large ogre of a man sped off in his car and the skinny, crazed guy fell through the debris of the fallen cabin and was most likely crushed to death. They ended the horrendous tale with having last seen Goku concentrating on attempting to wake Vegeta, even though they knew it was hopeless.

Bulma’s eyebrows lowered and she stared directly into Yamcha’s face as new tears fell from his closed eyes. Her mouth hung open in shock as she, too, felt an awful stab of pain toward the fallen saiyajin prince. Even though he was obnoxious, arrogant, and rude, Vegeta had grown on her in the few months he had lived at Capsule Corp. She thought back to the argument she and Yamcha had had with him only…only two days ago. And now he was gone. A deep aching pain throbbed in her chest at the thought of never seeing the saiyajin prince again.

“Yamcha, you have to tell us what happened,” Krillin pushed. “We know something awful has occurred. We know that you and Vegeta were involved in something…terrible. But please, you have to tell us. We can help you, but we need to know what kind of enemies we’re dealing with.”

“Skip was in love with me,” Yamcha blurted, startling them with his forthright admission. The words settled into their heads and the room buzzed with confused tension. “You know, he was my friend. We weren’t close or anything…at least, I didn’t think so. He was obsessed with me, though. He was crazy.”

Krillin’s hand tightened into a fist as he remembered the small, mousy man and his ferocious hatred toward Vegeta. Just meeting him that one time made Krillin uneasy. How had he not seen this coming?

“You made a solution to trap ‘ki’ within our bodies,” Yamcha said flatly, his eyes suddenly stabbing into Bulma’s. She slowly shook her head and peered up as her father entered the room. He frowned as he took in the dour mood in the living room.

“Just Vegeta. It was a precaution,” Bulma said, trying to keep the pleading from her voice. “I invited the universe’s most dangerous criminal to live here. I manufactured a solution to keep his energy at bay in case he couldn’t be trusted. I didn’t even know him yet. It was just a precaution. I never used it.”

“It’s ok, darling,” Dr. Briefs jumped in, although he was not sure what was happening. “Vegeta’s presence here was never an issue. We know that you never used it. It’s locked away in our medicine cellars and has never been touched.”

Yamcha moaned and leaned forward, his strong fingers pressing into his forehead. Frustration and anger was starting to build and he wished he had the energy to fly away. But his ki was locked away, deep inside of his body, just as Vegeta’s had been. He was trapped within his own useless body.

“Who created this poison?” Yamcha snapped.

There was a moment of silence before Bulma brought her delicate fingers to her mouth. “Me…and my head scientist.”

“Skip had the poison,” Krillin growled. “But how did he get Vegeta? How could anyone have snuck up on someone with that amount power?”

“Saiyajins have extremely powerful skin, of course,” Bulma murmured, her stomach beginning to twist at the thought that she helped this happen. “Skip and I designed a solution that would keep a saiyajin’s energy locked-in for a couple of hours. The syringes aren’t your everyday metal. The needles that held the drug were silent, strong, and undetectable. I know. I created them.”

“Our leading scientist, Skip, stole from us?” Dr. Briefs barked. “But he is our most respected and intelligent scientist in the field!”

“Well, he’s dead now,” Yamcha said quietly.

“Why would Skip go after Vegeta?” Tien asked.

At this question, Yamcha laced his hands together and focused on the ceiling. His lips pressed together and his eyes slowly watered before he let out a choked gasp and brought his head into his hands. His shoulders trembling, Bulma rubbed her distraught lover’s back and held back tears herself.

“He wanted me. He wanted me the whole time,” Yamcha sobbed as he tried to catch his breath. Simply saying the words made him want to crawl into a hole and die. The recent hours rushed through his head and he felt as if he was about to explode. All he could see was Vegeta’s broken body and the injuries that Yamcha himself had created. How could this have happened? How did it all come to this?

“Skip hated Vegeta,” Krillin said. “Even I could tell from the one time I met him.”

“You said Skip was in love with you?” Bulma spoke softly. “But it looks like he really hurt you. What did he do? What did he do to you and Vegeta?”

Pressing his fingers into his closed eyes, Yamcha shook his head violently and stood up. Wobbling, the fighter paced the room, his thoughts racing with everything that he had just experienced. He found he could barely say the words. He couldn’t tell his girlfriend that he had…raped the saiyajin prince. He could not let his close male friends see him as this monster, this weak, sick person who had committed such a terrible act. And yet, the words started before he could stop. Everything came flowing out of him.

“Skip, his half-brother, Hal, the man with the split personality, Hikaru, and this disgusting, insane writer, Rich…they…” he stared out the window and suddenly found he could no longer stand. Tien and Krillin moved quickly and caught him before he collapsed. Legs shaking, Yamcha was brought back to the couch and Mrs. Briefs appeared with a cool, wet rag. Yamcha took it, but could only stare at it. A monster like him did not deserve this kind of attention. “They abducted Vegeta. They used that solution. They trapped him and tortured him because Skip loved me. He was insane. They all were. He thought that if he captured Vegeta, I would…” Yamcha let out a sickened laugh. “Skip thought that I’d fall in love with him or something. He thought that since I didn’t like Vegeta and most of us were killed when he first invaded Earth, I’d love to get revenge and then would fall for Skip.”

Again, the room was silent as the news sank in. The warriors of Earth had seen almost everything, but this story was too bizarre to comprehend. The Briefs and the fighters all gave each other uneasy glances before turning back to Yamcha.

“So they are just simple human beings?” Tien asked. “No powers?”

Yamcha’s face tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut in shame. The way he said it…of course this never should have happened. Yamcha had fought so many amazingly strong warriors in his life. How did four weak, insane human beings manage to do so much damage to him and a full-blooded saiyajin?

“They had Capsule Corp. technology,” Bulma stepped in. “As much as we all forget, you may all be amazing fighters with unbelievable powers, but you’ve also had struggles against the Red Ribbon Army and you have no idea just how powerful our inventions are here at Capsule Corp. Vegeta and Yamcha let their guards down. Skip is a genius and he got them somehow.”

“Was a genius,” Krillin snapped.

“But this still doesn’t explain what happened to you guys,” Tien blurted, anxious for more of the odd events that transpired. “They captured and tortured Vegeta. How did you get involved?”

Sighing, Yamcha couldn’t even think of how to say it. He hadn’t trusted Vegeta and he actually mocked the saiyajin as he sat on the floor, tied to a bed post with a bullet hole in his right leg. Then he raped him.

“I…I don’t…I can’t.”

“You were led in by Skip. Skip was your friend,” Krillin said, trying to help Yamcha understand that none of them judged him.

“They told me Vegeta had destroyed a village and killed people. They told me that they caught him doing this horrible thing and I believed them. A part of me knew it wasn’t true, but I wanted to believe Skip…because I didn’t like Vegeta.”

“Understandable,” Tien jumped in. “Yamcha, it would be hard not to believe that.”

“Yeah, only we all would have felt Vegeta going on a rampage, killing people,” Krillin replied coldly.

“And I knew that, too,” Yamcha whispered. Something burst inside of him then. “But at first I wanted to see him suffer. And then things got out of hand. They implanted something inside of Vegeta and could electrocute him from the inside and Skip said that if I didn’t…hurt Vegeta myself they would kill him…and I did. I hurt him. I hurt him so badly. They told me to take these drugs and I did to make it easier. And I helped torture him. I helped kill him, but then I tried to save him…but they kept electrocuting him and then Vegeta didn’t wait for me. And Skip found him again and Hal had this gun and when I tried to save him, I was just so stupid. I was so stupid. And Vegeta killed Skip while he was torturing him and then, I don’t know, I just wasn’t there…and Hal shot him. He shot Vegeta in the head. And he fell. He fell and I couldn’t save him. And they shot me with the poison and…and that was it. And Vegeta…was gone and I was taken away.”

Bulma threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Fresh tears fell from Yamcha’s eyes and he rested his face against Bulma’s blue locks. Krillin and Tien remained silent, but Yamcha’s guilt coursed through his veins. Nobody, asked it, but Yamcha offered the answer anyway. What happened to Vegeta?

“They raped him,” he whispered, his voice trembling terribly. He could hear the collective gasp from the room. “Then they made me…”

“Ssshh…” Bulma cooed. Her hands circled his shivering back and he closed his eyes.

It was silent for several moments as only his sniffles and gasps were heard as he cried. He felt a small amount of relief now that it was out in the open about his horrendous and evil actions against Vegeta.

“I’m so sorry, Yamcha,” Mrs. Briefs gasped.

“No, I’m the monster here.”

“Yamcha, don’t say that,” Tien replied. “You were forced to do something you couldn’t get out of. You said it yourself. They were going to make you hurt him or they were going to kill him.”

“You’re a strong man, Yamcha. You survived an awful and terrifying ordeal,” Krillin explained softly. “None of us have ever had to face something this sick or evil. This wasn’t a battle, Yamcha. You and Vegeta were both tortured and used, and God, none of us were here to help you.”

Bulma helped lay her beaten and distressed boyfriend down on the couch. Mrs. Briefs placed the cool rag against his head and they fetched him a blanket. Within moments, Yamcha was asleep, his eyes still wet from crying. The others made their way into the adjoined kitchen before Bulma collapsed to the floor, her hand to her mouth as she wept. Krillin knelt next to her and tried to console her as her parents held each other with grief.

“He’ll be ok,” Krillin said as he took Bulma’s hands into his. “Yamcha’s strong. This horrible thing will only make him stronger.”

Bulma shook her head violently and cried harder, her voice choking with ragged gasps. “Vegeta!”
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Resolution on a Lonely Planet