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Mind Rape	By : MutantPoptart Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 18434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own or intend to profit from any of the themes or characters taken from the Dragonball Z franchise and used in this story.

Chapter List
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"It Was Me"
Vegeta cut across the Lookout courtyard with Goku trailing close behind.
“Whatever it is you think you need to tell me, Kakarot, I don’t need to hear it.”
After what had been several failed attempts over the past few weeks at politely appealing for Vegeta’s attention, Goku was now visibly frustrated with the other Saiyan’s evasions and apparently through with the tentative approach.
“No.” Goku said firmly. “It doesn’t matter if you need to hear it or not. I need to tell you. And whether you’re listening or not, I’m gonna say it.”
Vegeta waited, brandishing his weary disinterest on his face and in his posture. This sudden assertiveness was strange from Goku, who’d been teetering around Vegeta’s visual periphery like a pitiful ghost since he’d awoken from his own recuperative rest. This new, bolder side of the third class Saiyan was no more tolerable to him.
“Let’s hear it then."
“Well," Goku said, licking his lips and apparently arranging his thoughts. "When I was inside Buu…” Vegeta felt a lurch in his chest at name. Goku, evidently noticing the subtle reaction, faltered for a moment but trudged on. “All that time, I was never really a part of him.”
“I know, Kakarot. He couldn’t fully absorbed you. It’s fine, I already knew that.” Vegeta began to turn away, quickly realizing that the other Saiyan was wasting his time.
“No, listen. Don’t wave me off.” Vegeta did stop, but didn’t look at him. When Goku seemed satisfied that Vegeta would at least wait, he continued. “I felt like I was being forced to watch those horrible things and I couldn’t do anything about it. The things he did to you. I just… It almost felt like I was doing them… I couldn’t even be sick with myself because,” he scanned the ground, searching for the words. “In some way, I was choosing to do them—even though it wasn’t really me.”
“Are you saying, Kakarot,” Vegeta began, his eyes, that had previously been wandering everywhere—anywhere else, were now fixed wholly on the fidgeting man before him. “You feel you had some conscious part in what Buu did?” to me, he didn’t say. He couldn’t.
Goku faltered again. “I can’t really explain it, Vegeta, but…in a way, it felt like I was doing those things. Even though I couldn’t control my body.”
Vegeta looked away again to scan, allowing his eyes to roam over the sunny courtyard.
Perhaps Buu had done a better job of absorbing Kakarot than they’d all thought. Vegeta was tired, hungry, and more removed from the whole ordeal than he knew he ought to be for someone who’d been so directly involved. He wanted to be disgusted with the man in front of him but he just couldn’t muster enough emotion for even that. He was just so tired.
“Was that all you needed, Kakarot?” He said at last, meeting Goku’s restless gaze.
Goku frowned. “Well…well, yeah, but—wait, Vegeta,” he stammered as the older Saiyan, deeming that a suitable end to the conversation, turned and walked away. “Vegeta!”
The former prince was cutting across the bustling courtyard and up the temple steps.

As he followed after Vegeta, Goku couldn’t help noticing the distinct quieting of conversation over every group they passed. It might have been his imagination, but he swore he could feel the eyes and ears of everyone in the courtyard honing in on the two of them. His skin prickled at the intrusive attention.
It was a relief when they entered the shielding walls of the temple.
“Do they all know?” He whispered, trying not to look back out into the noisy patio.
Vegeta paused for a moment.
“No one knows but you and I,” Vegeta said over his shoulder. “And Dende,” he added, before continuing toward the guest wing.
“Dende,” Goku froze mid-step. His stomach twisted at the idea of the Guardian too knowing the depths of Goku’s shame. Then, as his eyes traced the form of the retreating Saiyan, it was clear to him how unconcerned Vegeta seemed about it. Somehow that relaxed Goku a little, and he resumed his pursuit.
Come to think of it, Goku thought, nothing seemed to be bothering the older Saiyan, really. Although Goku had just confessed his potential participation in Vegeta’s rape and torture, Vegeta seemed barely moved by the information.
Somehow, the other Saiyan was different now. Goku could see it. Really, when he thought about it, it only made sense. No one could’ve suffered so much and come out unchanged. Certainly, Goku would never be the same.
As they came upon the long hallway of the guest quarters, Goku felt his moment slipping away. Very soon, Vegeta would retreat into his private room and shut Goku out again.
The idea of losing Vegeta again propelled Goku forward and without a plan or a hope, his arm was reaching out. If he’d given it a moment’s more thought, Goku would’ve decided against touching the reserved Saiyan. Still, he had to get him to stop, had to make him understand. If Vegeta shut him out again, there was not telling when Goku would ever get another chance.
Now, Goku’s mouth hung open, but no words were coming out. He could only watch as Vegeta’s large eyes regarded the hand on his arm.
Alone in the long, quiet hallway, they were both frozen. Vegeta had stopped retreating and now his attention was fully on Goku.
There were so many things the Earth Saiyan needed to say, needed to express before Vegeta was out of his reach again, but none of it would fix what had happened. Nothing could undo what his old friend had been through. It was unfair and overwhelming and he felt sick.
Vegeta’s sharp gaze now met his own and Goku felt a chill from the iciness in it. Did Vegeta truly despise him so much? Was Goku’s touch so repulsive to him?
The weight of responsibility and guilt was making itself home in Goku’s gut. He’d done this to Vegeta. It was him. And yet Vegeta sought no retribution from him. He wasn’t allowing Goku to atone for what had happened. Instead he pushed him away and withdrew himself. Goku had seen first-hand the horror Vegeta had endured and knew that no lesser man could have survived such tortures with his mind intact. While Vegeta’s body may heal, his mind would bear the scars.
Goku’s eyes began to burn and the vision of the other Saiyan blurred to a bluish haze.

Although the large hand on his arm was not gripping him tightly enough to impede him, it was nonetheless unwelcome.
Once he recovered from the initial alarm of the unsolicited contact, Vegeta allowed his gaze to assess the man attached to the offending hand.
Still and solemn, Goku stared at the ground. His shoulders were slightly hunched and Vegeta thought he looked like a great forlorn statue.
By the subtle tremor in his broad shoulders and the glimmer in the brims of his eyes, it was clear to the older Saiyan that Goku wanted something from him. Needed it, probably. Whether it was Vegeta’s blame or forgiveness, he desperately longed for it, and Vegeta was as yielding as a fortress.
Taking in the pitiful sight of the tearing, squirming, full-grown Saiyan, Vegeta consented at last. If Kakarot so badly wanted his judgement, he would give it to him.
“So, you felt aware of what was going on while you were inside Buu? Involved even?” Vegeta asked, voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.
Goku looked up.
“Did you enjoy it, Kakarot?” He spat and swatted Goku’s hand away like an insect.
“Vegeta?”
“Buu seemed to enjoy it very much. Can I assume that you were accessory to that as well?”
“No, Vegeta—“ Goku was shaking his head.
“Buu said it thrilled you to see me bested. Was that not the truth?”
“What?”
Vegeta scanned the sincere confusion across Goku’s face and sensed that the third class Saiyan truly had no idea what he was talking about. Every horrific detail of the day in the grove was a permanent imprint on the walls of Vegeta’s mind, despite how he fought to leave it behind him. It was in his bones now.
Yet Goku didn’t remember.
It was cruel and unfair that Vegeta had to carry this memory day and night while it appeared that Goku, the very monster of his nightmares, had been spared.
Still, Vegeta pressed on.
“’He loves to see you struggle. It’s what you do best?’ was that not what the mutant said?”
“Vegeta, I--”
“Or were you not cognizant through that part?”
“I told you I wasn’t really in control of—“
“You want to be held accountable, Kakarot, yet you don’t want to know what for?”
Goku shut his mouth.
“Do you remember when he held me down and fucked me, Kakarot?”
Goku froze.
“He wore your clothes and your skin and made me watch as he fucked me in your body. Do you remember what he made me say as he did it?”
Goku swallowed visibly but didn’t find his voice. Vegeta watched Goku’s inner turmoil playing out on his face, drinking in his anguish and finding a wretched thrill in it.
“You don’t remember,” Vegeta said finally. “But I will remember every second to my last breath.”

Goku watched Vegeta’s eyes glaze over. Although the horrible sneer was gone, Goku found he didn’t like the utter vacancy that took its place any better.
The sudden outburst, which had been more emotion than Goku had seen from the weary Saiyan since it all ended, had worn off. Now Vegeta was cloaked once more in stony detachment. Yet somehow, Goku was able to read even less than before from his old friend.
Before Goku could make any sense of what had caused the sudden shift in Vegeta’s demeanor, the reticent Saiyan was walking away again. It wasn’t until he’d nearly reached the door to his room that Goku finally spoke up.
Upon hearing his words, Vegeta slowed to a stop.
“He made you beg,’” Goku said again, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words themselves. “That’s what Buu made you do. He made you call him by my name and beg him to …”
Vegeta turned around and Goku could see the stony shield beginning to crumble.
The third-class Saiyan moved boldly forward, seizing the moment while he had Vegeta’s attention.
“He threatened to use my body to hurt you if you didn’t. Then he did it anyway.”
Goku closed the gap between them, ignoring Vegeta’s flinch as he stepped into the slighter man’s personal space. When he spoke again, his voice was low.
“I remember all of it Vegeta, just like you do. But there were times when I was more aware, and it almost felt like I was the one moving.”
Vegeta stammered and took a step back, leaning away from the emboldened Saiyan.
“In the lake,” Goku persisted, and grabbed Vegeta’s wrist as it came up to push him back, “I remember bathing you as clearly as if it were me doing it. I remember running my hands over your thighs, how you started to lean into me.”

Vegeta felt a cold sweat forming on his skin.
The memory of the day at the lake shocked his mind like a bucket of ice water. He saw it clearly. It was the day he’d opened his eyes for the first time since Bow had released him. It was the day he’d been awoken by a touch that was so achingly gentle, it had actually fooled Vegeta into thinking he was safe. He’d opened his eyes then, needing to know whose touch could be so familiar, only to find that it had been Buu all along who’d been caring for him.
He’s still haunted by those hands, with their soothing, knowing touches and the impossibly safe feelings they stirred. To have come from the very creature who had tortured and violated him with such malevolence on that day that had started it all… It was unfathomable. Still, something in Vegeta had known why the touch was so familiar. He couldn’t place it then, or maybe he just hadn’t allowed himself to, but a small part of him had known. It was the same part of him that, against all of his higher reasoning, understood how he and Buu could have had so strong a connection that the tyrannical mutant would kill everyone in the world, including his own fledgling, but spare Vegeta.
Vegeta couldn’t steady his breath. He was slowly coming down from the heights to which his mind had soared and his head was now swimming. As his vision took focus, it was immediately filled with the Saiyan in front of him, who without Vegeta realizing it, has slowly been advancing while Vegeta himself had been backing away.
“I even remember your hands on my head,” Goku was saying as he brought Vegeta’s wrist, still held in his grasp, to his own face.
He was getting too close, too familiar.
“Kakarot—“
“Holding onto me as I tasted your skin.”
Vegeta felt suddenly very aware that they were alone in the long, dim corridor of the guest quarters, and that it was very unlikely that anyone would have need to walk down that way.
“I remember your taste, Vegeta.”
“That’s enough, Kakarot.”
“Your taste,” Goku hummed, as he brought the smaller hand to his lips.
Vegeta snatched it back. Goku didn’t seem to mind as his eyes slid slowly, blissfully open and fell on the cornered man in a daze.
Vegeta tried to move away but suddenly felt the wall at his back. They’d hit the dead end of the guest wing, having long left the reprieve of Vegeta’s own solitary room behind them.
“There were times I was so present, Vegeta, I forgot that it wasn’t me.” There was a stark clarity in Goku’s eyes and Vegeta thought he almost saw fear. “There were times when I was making choices—me—little things like moving my arm or looking up, and I felt my body move like it was mine and I forgot that I wasn’t me.”
Vegeta was barely breathing, stuck in the frightening stare with no more room left to back away as Goku closed the final few inches between them.
“I didn’t do that to you, Vegeta,” he whispered, manic eyes seeming to glow in the dim, windowless corner. “After he absorbed me. You have to believe that I would never do that to you—it wasn’t me then but…“ He swallowed, hands eager, reaching out again. “There were times when it was. Do you understand?”
“Step away, Kakarot.”
Goku blinked and looked like he just noticed how close he was to Vegeta and how tense it was making him.
After a few moments, the taller Saiyan stepped back.
When he had enough space, Vegeta took a breath, straitened himself, and carefully sidled out from the corner. Without a backward glance, he crossed the hall to his designated room, went inside, and closed the door behind him.

A/N: We hopped around perspectives a little bit, I know. Hopefully, it wasn't too confusing. This chapter is probably more deserving of the title "The Confrontation," than the Buu/Bow one but, oh well, this title works for now. Thanks for sticking around and please let me know what you think!
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Mind Rape