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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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault and rape, flashbacks to rape, angst, depression, PTSD

Goku refused to enter the claustrophobic hospital room until all the needles were hidden. Bulma would always be amazed that the powerful saiyajin was terrified of syringes, especially since he was a warrior who had received some of the worst injuries imaginable and even came back from death. It brought some humor to the stressful situation at hand. Bulma and her father would tell no one of their plan. As far as they were concerned, Vegeta would awake without any power. He would not be able to access it and everyone would be confused as to what had happened to his ki.

If he “behaved,” the green button on the control would be pushed and Vegeta’s energy would return to normal. If he was a threat…he would, in the simplest terms, be a prisoner.

Bulma tried to keep her emotions in check, smiling at Goku’s childish actions and speaking to her father as if they weren’t committing the awful crime against Vegeta. A saiyajin thrived off power…hell, they lived for their amazing strength and abilities. Trapping the prince’s ki within him, even if he had used his energy for evil, was literally disabling him. Vegeta would be crippled and Bulma was the one inflicting the injuries.

“I’m going to remove the breathing tube. He should be able to swallow a whole senzu bean now,” Dr. Briefs explained.

Nodding, Bulma felt her stomach twist anxiously. Goku watched in awe as the intelligent doctor slowly cared for the stricken saiyajin prince. Removing the tube from Vegeta’s slack mouth appeared easy enough, but Goku paled briefly as the doctor brought out another instrument and threaded it down the unconscious warrior’s throat. Placing the senzu bean at the top of the pencil-thin wire, there was a quick suction sound and the magical vegetable disappeared from sight.

With practiced skill, the small, tired doctor pulled the thread from Vegeta’s throat, the cord exiting with a wet slap. Backing away, Dr. Briefs seemed to hide behind Goku’s large form as all eyes in the room anxiously observed Vegeta’s sleeping body.

Still stained with blood, the prince’s skin slowly darkened and resumed its natural tan glow as the burns, lacerations, and deep cuts on his body scabbed over before disappearing completely. The three observers watched in awe as his right leg straightened, the large wound in his thigh closing and pushing a bullet out through the skin. The hideous scar along the left side of his skull filled, allowing his long velvety hair to re-grow like a plant reaching for the sun. Bulma felt her heart leap into her throat as a fearful whimper rose from Vegeta’s lips, his eyebrows pinching together as if in pain. Trembling suddenly, the prince let out a hacking cough, a few drops of blood landing on his white pillow as the internal injuries fully healed.

Goku made his way to the shaking hospital bed, knowing that the angry prince would probably be confused and disoriented upon waking. Bulma and her father remained where they stood, though, unable to move forward to help the beaten man.

Vegeta moaned and one heavy eyelid lifted. His coal-black iris scanned the room before landing on the large, shadowy figure above him.

“NO!”

Throwing himself off the squeaky bed, Vegeta landed hard on the linoleum floor, his shaky legs not allowing him to stand. Powerful hands grabbed his shoulders and his terrified scream filled the small room. Two more figures approached and Vegeta thrashed against the iron grip around his torso, his teeth gnashing and voice growling ferociously at his attackers.

“Fuck you! Get away from me! Get away!”

“Vegeta,” Goku said quietly. “Vegeta it’s us. It’s Goku.”

But the terrified prince couldn’t comprehend. A heavy blanket wrapped around his brain and his body felt slow and sluggish. His constant attempts to call upon his energy were thwarted. All he could feel was the heavy weight against his back and it terrified him, making him unable to think straight.

“Get off me! Get off me! Let me go!!”

Goku had never heard such fear in anyone’s voice before and pity struck his heart. The innocent warrior tried to ignore the flashes of memory he had seen within Vegeta’s mind, but it had all been too real. Sighing, Goku released Vegeta and stood, taking a step away to give the cowering alien on the floor his space.

Vegeta raced to the corner of the small hospital room, his body curled and animalistic eyes glaring into the wall. Wrapping his arms around his knees, the confused and agitated saiyajin shielded himself from the predators surrounding him. Without blinking, he continued to stare forward, freezing like a statue as he awaited the next “attack.”

Goku’s eyes lowered and he shook his head as he noted the dried blood-stains on the once-white floor. It was disturbing seeing Vegeta act this way. His body-language screamed “terror” as he pressed himself into the corner of the room, his body stiff like a cat defending its territory.

“Vegeta. You’re back at Capsule Corporation. We found you, and Bulma and Dr. Briefs helped you,” Goku murmured. “You’re safe now.”

“My poor boy,” Dr. Briefs said as he slowly approached the shaken warrior. Kneeling, he kept his distance, but stared deeply into Vegeta’s pale face. “What can we get you to make you feel better? What do you need, Vegeta?”

The stricken saiyajin stared a moment longer before moving finally, his tense body relaxing slightly. Craning his head, Vegeta peered over his knees to gaze at Goku and Bulma as if seeing them for the first time. Looking beyond them, he peered around the room, realizing he was not in a dark, disgusting basement or restrained in some humiliating fashion.

A shaky hand rose and trembling fingers traced the left side of his head, checking for the missing pieces of skull. Feeling a full scalp of hair and absolutely no injuries, Vegeta shook his head slowly, confusion soon replaced with shame. His lips quivered and his eyes squinted as hot tears threatened to fall. Flashes of memory struck him and he bit back a disgusted sob as the recent events rushed through his mind: His tortures, his pain, his humiliation—all of it. Most of it came back to his memory, clear as day. Yamcha…what he did—the human who had been forced to rape him: The human who tried to protect him at the same time. The cliff where it had all ended. The gun. That fucking gun.

Vegeta’s fingers were gnarled in his hair as his body shook and eyes squeezed shut. It was all too much. And now here he was…alive. Why was he alive? Why had the earthlings brought him back again when he never asked for their assistance?!

“Vegeta, please, we’re here to help.”

Slowly, madly…the dark prince raised his eyes. The black, icy depths of his irises stared into Goku’s worried face and he trembled as rage filled him. The fear and panic disappeared as the situation fully closed in on his vulnerable mind. Rage. Pure, blinding rage.

Vegeta stood slowly, his small frame appearing huge as a cloud of fury surrounded him. Even Goku took a step back from the murderous eyes that glared through him. Still covered in blood, Vegeta’s shirtless body bulged and shook. Carelessly, Bulma emerged from behind Goku’s tall form, her blue eyes wide with pity and anxiety. She held her hands up as if to calm the enraged alien.

“I’m so sorry, Vegeta,” she stammered. “We’re going to make this right. You don’t—“

Even without his powers, the saiyajin was fast. Darting forward, Vegeta’s hand clenched around Bulma’s frail throat, his strong fingers crushing her esophagus.

“You were in on it!” Vegeta roared. “You aided that sick monster, Skip! If it wasn’t for your stupidity I—“

Something huge collided with Vegeta’s skull and he was thrown backwards into the wall. His feet sliding out from under him, the dazed saiyajin tripped over his fumbling legs before catching his balance. Eyes watering from the strike to his head, Vegeta’s world turned red as he saw Goku comforting the blue-haired traitor. Without a rational thought in his brain, the fuming prince charged forward again, attacking the younger saiyajin.

Pulling Bulma behind him, Goku could easily track Vegeta’s movements, the insane fighter displaying the same power as that of an average human. Goku recognized, with worry, that with a senzu bean in his system, Vegeta should have regained his normal energy-level. However, he was fighting like a madman, swinging wildly with movements so slow, Goku didn’t even dodge. Vegeta threw his fists into Goku’s chest and stomach, his arms hurling forward as the disoriented saiyajin hollered and grunted. Without even raising his own strength, Goku just stood and watched in shock as the saiyajin prince grew exhausted and winded, his body weakening from just a few punches and kicks.

Crouching down, Vegeta’s hands slid to his knees and he wheezed and coughed. Barely being able to stand, the defeated warrior stared into the dirty linoleum floor as sweat poured from his face. He, too, realized that something was horribly amiss.

“Th-the poison,” he whispered. “It still has a hold on my ki.”

Goku reached out to rub the prince’s back, but Vegeta straightened and smacked the offered hand away. Wiping his mouth angrily, the trapped being stared at the ground as he tried to collect his thoughts. The panic he had felt earlier slowly returned and he found he could not look at any of the people accompanying him in the room.

“We’re going to help you,” Goku reassured him. “I know what happened to you was awful, but you’re not going to be alone. Like Dr. Briefs said, whatever you need, we will get it for you.”

Peering up at the blank wall to Goku’s right, Vegeta gazed, unseeing. “You know what happened to me?” He repeated. “What do you mean?”

Goku faltered before dropping his eyes to the floor, shame and guilt flooding him. “I had to make a connection with you, Vegeta. I’m so sorry. Somehow you were still alive within your own dying body and the only way to get you to resurface was…to…lock onto your thoughts.”

Vegeta’s dark eyes snapped to the naïve saiyajin and Goku held in a whimper of fear at the fury and betrayal on the prince’s face.

“The thoughts just came rushing into me and I saw…everything. I-I’m not even sure what to make of it all, but it…was horrible.”

Staring at Goku in disbelief, Vegeta’s eyes grew wide and a choking sound erupted from his throat. Staggering away, the trembling saiyajin grabbed the hospital cot he had been laying on previously, his mind reeling at the words. Sweat trailed down his pale face and Vegeta’s eyes shot around the room before landing on the darkened blood stains all over the bed. Sensation left his legs and the short warrior slid to his knees, his fingers ripping through the once-white bed sheets as he landed on the hard floor. Shaking hands flew to his face and Vegeta let out an agonized howl.

Kakarot had seen it all. He’d seen his pathetic capture at the hands of the insane humans. Merely one dart had taken its toll on the prince’s power and Vegeta was abducted in the woods and carted to some dungeon cabin deep in the forest. Kakarot had seen him bound to a chair and beaten, then…then assaulted by Hikaru’s golden dildo.

Vegeta’s biggest rival read his mind and got a front row view of the arrogant saiyajin’s assault in the bathtub and the hours of rape he endured by three madmen, his tortures recorded by a sick, perverted writer. Kakarot had seen the gun and probably even felt his own terror and shame throughout it all. He observed the way the humans spoke to him, touched him, and threatened him. He had watched Yamcha’s appearance and knew how close he had been to escaping. Kakarot felt the torture-device deep within Vegeta’s body, knowing how much pain the saiyajin prince had experienced during the entire ordeal. The powerful warrior watched Vegeta’s assault continue at the hands of the unwilling Yamcha, his fear growing as he realized the human warrior had taken pills to make him serene, out-of-control, and completely disoriented, almost killing Vegeta during the rape. And he saw Vegeta’s death. Kakarot saw how Vegeta was chased down by the humans, his body dying from the tortures inflicted on it, and then the final coldhearted end. He had been shot in the head.

Vegeta wasn’t aware that he started crying, his hands balled into fists that pressed into his eyes. All he knew was that the man he hated—the saiyajin who had achieved super saiyajin and held all the power in the universe—witnessed his torture and rape by humans. Not only did Goku know what happened…he felt all of Vegeta’s terror and pain. And he pitied him. Goku pitied Vegeta and it was almost worse than the tortures themselves.

Goku knelt next to the curled, weeping saiyajin, the guilt in his chest making him feel powerless. He knew how incredibly proud Vegeta was and the humiliation he must have felt made Goku feel horrible. Placing his hand on the quivering warrior’s back, Goku wasn’t expecting the prince to recoil so violently.

Lashing out at Goku’s innocent face, Vegeta fell backwards against the wall, his face contorted into an expression of madness. Eyes wild and red from the tears, the saiyajin prince snarled and stood, stumbling slightly before regaining his composure. Rubbing at the wetness on his face, Vegeta ripped the remaining black material that was once his shirt away from his neck. Muscles twitching and eyes burning, Goku believed for a moment that he could feel the saiyajin prince powering-up. But nothing happened. There was not even a spark of energy within the hateful alien.

“First you Earthlings take everything away from me,” Vegeta hissed, his voice dangerous and quiet, “and then you want to help me?” His black eyes darted from one worried face to the next. “You don’t want to help me. You only want to save yourselves!”

“Vegeta,” Bulma whimpered. “Vegeta, please!”

“Shut up, Bitch!”

Goku’s blood froze at the harsh words, but he remained kneeling on the ground as the crazed warrior shook with fury. He met Vegeta’s eyes and the two stared at each other.

“I may not have my powers now,” Vegeta whispered darkly, “but consider me a much larger threat than those androids. You will wish that I had never set foot on this disgusting mud-ball of a planet.”

And with that, the shirtless fighter stepped past Goku, his words chilling the air within the quiet infirmary. Disappearing through the door, Vegeta silently crept away. The three remaining people in the room could barely breathe, the amount of rage and hatred emanating from the small saiyajin having ripped away their ability to speak.

After several minutes, Goku stood, his heart hammering in his chest as memories that were not his floated through his mind. Goku was the most powerful person in the universe, having just defeated Frieza, but he held respect for everyone. Even his worst enemies were puzzles for the childish saiyajin to figure out and he treated his opponents with curious dignity. However, he found he could not forgive the humans who did this to Vegeta. The naïve and innocent warrior still did not understand how or why people—humans!—would…rape a person. The rage and disgust whenever he thought about it scared Goku and it worried him even more that he empathized with Vegeta’s hatred at the moment.

“Shouldn’t someone go after him?” Bulma’s voice squeaked.

Goku gazed at the door Vegeta had stormed out of a few minutes ago. With a sad smile he shook his head. “Vegeta has the same amount of power as a normal human right now. I think we should just let him cool his head.”

“Goku, this goes beyond “cooling off!”’ Dr. Briefs barked. “He is out for blood!”

Sighing, the distraught warrior turned to look at the scientists. His dark eyes landed on the purpled bruises around Bulma’s neck.

“I’ll keep a track on him,” Goku replied, tapping his temple. “Besides, he’ll really only put himself in danger. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to keep him trapped here at Capsule Corp. Vegeta needs trust right now, not anger.”

Bulma’s hand rested against her collarbone, fingers tracing the pain where Vegeta had grabbed her. Large worried eyes peered at the door and she blinked a few times to try and clear her thoughts. She trusted Goku and his ability to see the good in people—but she felt that Vegeta was far too damaged to be saved.

The prince was fairly surprised that no one followed him. None of the earth warriors made an appearance and Goku hadn’t chased him down. Still fuming, Vegeta charged through the cold, quiet hallways of the infirmary, his mind set on a shower and change of clothing.

When Vegeta first arrived on planet Earth after the Namek ordeal, he had been given a room while the Namekians lived outdoors with the Briefs’ many animals. The saiyajin demanded a large room, far from the rest of the inhabitants of Capsule Corporation. And, of course, he had been given what he wanted. Bulma even gave him a large wad of spending cash should he ever decide to explore the planet and the attractions it had to offer.

However, Vegeta simply disregarded the gift, seeing the money as some form of debt he would have to repay later. Besides, a prince didn’t need such petty forms of survival. Sometime after the denied favor, Vegeta had stolen the Capsule ship and launched into space, looking for Goku after the epic battle against Frieza. After several weeks, and no luck on his search, Vegeta returned to earth only to be greeted by the loud-mouthed woman, her dumbass boyfriend, and suddenly an attack by Frieza himself, which had been thwarted by the purple-haired boy from the future.

Upon entering his pristine room once more, Vegeta found that the offered money had appeared again inside a book on his nightstand. Annoyed, he simply tossed the book and its contents into the closet of his room, absolutely refusing to accept any kindness from Bulma and her family.

He decided he certainly would use it now. Securing himself in his room, Vegeta slowly turned and locked the door, knowing that if one of the earth warriors wanted to break in, they easily could. Walking into the spacious bathroom, Vegeta clicked on the lights and gazed around the brightly lit room, his eyes squinting from the luminous reflections bouncing off the tiles.

A shower, a change of clothes, and then he was out of there. But as the angry saiyajin brought his hands to the hem of the red and black checkered pants, a wave of vertigo passed through him. Hal’s pants—those were Hal’s pants.

His hands trembling suddenly, Vegeta ripped the garments from his muscular legs, wanting to shed the hideous things from his skin immediately. However, he was not prepared for the ghastly sight below.

The senzu beans healed everything on an injured person, but Vegeta learned on Planet Namek that it did nothing to cleanse the skin. All the mud, blood, gore, and remaining semen that had collected on his body remained and his black eyes could not ignore the tendrils of darkness that trailed between his legs, all the way to his toes. Blood stained his member and ghostly white traces of cum clung to his pelvis and pubic hair.

Vegeta’s head hit the rim of the bathtub before he even knew he was falling. Twitching on the cold floor, Vegeta’s eyes rolled into his head as shock set in, the memories rushing through his delirious mind in a myriad of violent words and terrifying images. Hyperventilating, the small saiyajin curled in on himself as he tried to fight off the sneering, laughing voices in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, his lips worded silently as he told himself he was ok now…that everything was over.

But was it over? The traumatized alien clenched his teeth and whimpered pathetically as his body shook painfully. Pieces of his memory had virtually disappeared and he wasn’t sure what had happened directly before he was shot in the head by Hal. Which of the humans had perished? Who was still out there and what happened after he was shot?

He remembered the gun. That fucking weapon was all too clear in his memory. He remembered Hal aiming…and something told Vegeta that even in a state of near death, he had predicted the precision of the bullet. Vegeta had thrown himself backwards off the cliff. Yes, the saiyajin still had some of his battle wits within him even though his internal organs had been charred to blackness. Vegeta guessed the angle of the gun, the power of the bullet, and he hurled himself backwards just as Hal fired. It still hadn’t been enough, though.

But what happened before that? Vegeta couldn’t even recall where Yamcha was or how Hal and the other found him. Was it Rich who accompanied Hal to witness Vegeta’s final moments? Or was it Bruce…Hikaru? Was Skip still alive?

No, something told Vegeta that Skip’s life ended. His racing mind showed glimpses of a rock cutting through the small, weak man’s throat, tearing his esophagus from his body. It wasn’t Yamcha who killed Skip. No…Vegeta completed that task himself. And Rich? Vegeta could not remember what happened. Hal was with someone as he raised his gun. Hal was furious—hurt. So was…Hikaru.

But now where were they? Vegeta trembled on the cold, tiled floor as he hugged his knees and closed his eyes. If they were out there still, he would never be safe—not until he regained his power. But for some reason, he still had absolutely no ki. It had to have been more than two hours since he was found by the earth warriors. Surely, even a spark of energy should have made itself known. But there was nothing. Vegeta’s body felt empty, like a hollow shell that once held something amazing and grand. The saiyajin prince was at the same level as a useless human and it terrified him. He had never felt so powerless.

Struggling to sit up, Vegeta’s dead eyes strayed away from looking at his naked body, his reeling mind unable to take in all the blood and mess on his skin. Shakily, the scarred fighter leaned over the tub and twisted the handle to hot, the spray shooting from the showerhead above. Leaning against the glossy tub, Vegeta sat on the floor like a small child, his black hair hanging low and head bowed as he waited for the water to heat up. Feet sticking straight out in front of him, Vegeta gazed slightly at his right ankle before quickly looking away.

That ankle had been brutally wrenched from the chair he was originally bound to when first arriving at the horrid cabin in the woods. Vegeta recalled the constant pain he endured from the broken appendage and then the gun-shot wound that later accompanied the same leg.

Beating his fists into the ground at his sides, the angry saiyajin let out a rush of air as fury pounded through his veins. He just couldn’t understand how the situation got so out of control. Vegeta had survived the worst experiences while in Frieza’s command. The wicked tyrant was sick and perverted and the most powerful being in the universe, yet the young prince lived through the tortures and madness inflicted on him by the evil lizard and his men. Vegeta survived horrendous battles and awful wars and saw things at such a young age that would make a person insane. How had four powerless, inferior humans defeated him so terribly?

Realizing he could taste blood from the teeth chewing into his lip, Vegeta slowly rolled over and climbed onto his feet. Entering the shower, he stood momentarily before carefully sinking to his knees and then resting on his bloodstained bottom. Even with two senzu beans in his system, Vegeta found he did not have the energy to stand. Normally he would curse this weakness…but he didn’t even have the energy for that, as he sat silently at the bottom of the tub, the steaming hot water rushing onto his head and past his tense shoulder. Deep swirls of red danced around his fingers and legs and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the haunting blood tease him as it disappeared down the drain.

For a long time the broken warrior sat, his anxious body relaxing slightly as the water raced over his tight muscles. His breath came in steadily as exhaustion overcame him, sleep wrenching his body lower in the tub. Closing his eyes, Vegeta lay against the curved back of the bathtub, a feeling of déjà vu alerting his senses suddenly.

* “I want you to take these.”

Bruce held out his enormous hand and Vegeta eyed the two white pills that sat in his palm. The saiyajin was leaning tiredly against the filthy toilet in the small bathroom as the sound of splashing water filled the tub to his left…

The warmth in the tub and the pleasurable high that seemed to have taken over Vegeta’s body made the saiyajin want to follow the words that were spoken. He was exhausted and his body felt even weaker than before. It seemed almost impossible to keep his eyes open and it began to feel as if it didn’t matter what happened in the tub. Sleep was coming.

“Looks like the pills are working,” Rich whistled quietly from the doorway. He was writing like a demon as his glasses gleamed devilishly…

Vegeta tried to rise from the tub, but he felt clumsy, weak, and lethargic. Bruce shoved him down in the water, Vegeta’s forehead bumping against the hard bottom of the tub as he did so. The man clambered upon his back, forcing him to stay under water and unable to rise. The hand found his still erect penis and begin pumping viciously, the head of Vegeta’s dick sliding across the smooth, warm surface of the tub’s bottom…

Vegeta screamed under water, though he felt no pain. Bruce had decided not to enter him, but his lungs were already crying for oxygen and the enormous pressure on his back forced all the air from him. Vegeta’s feet kicked out behind him frantically, sending waves of water all over the floor, but Bruce did not stop. He was crouched over Vegeta, his cock aimed downward and sliding with such ferocity, it would have burned had the saiyajin not been under water. Vegeta’s right foot slammed into the metal faucet of the tub and he began to choke in the bubbling, dirty water as his entire leg exploded in pain.*

Sitting up with a gasp, Vegeta blinked through the rainfall in his eyes, his heart racing as he gazed around the bathroom with confusion and fear. Disoriented, it took the prince some time to realize that he was at Capsule Corporation. He must have fallen asleep. Swallowing painfully, shame flooded the ailing saiyajin at the awful memory, and he stood, his dark eyes squinted in anger.

Finishing up in the shower, Vegeta mechanically continued to wash himself, his eyes staring blindly into the wall as his soapy fingers scrubbed at the blood between his legs. Shampooing his hair, the long, black locks hung past his shoulders as all the mud and traces of semen disappeared. After years of abuse and trauma, Vegeta brought back the wall that protected his mind from the horrors he experienced. His barrier was intact and he was on autopilot as all emotion and thoughts were suppressed. It was how the saiyajin survived and moved forward. However, underneath the mask of calmness, Vegeta could feel the mounting insanity boiling in his veins.

Turning off the shower, the prince stepped from the tub, his body stiff and face blank. Concentrating, Vegeta attempted to raise his power to evaporate the water off his skin, but the old habit was left undone. Immediately, the beginning stabs of panic started to take place and Vegeta found he couldn’t control the terror growing deep within him. Lashing out, Vegeta let out a crazed scream as he punched at the white walls in the bathroom. Normally, his fists would crush the plaster and tiles into pieces, but he only left indents and bloody stains instead.

Feeling even more panic stricken, Vegeta punched harder, his brain buzzing with terror as his continual calls for energy were ignored. The inconsolable saiyajin didn’t even notice the knuckles breaking in his hands or the blood smearing the walls. He just wanted his energy back.

Flinging himself to the wet floor, Vegeta lay on his back and grasped his tall black hair. Ripping at the dripping locks, Vegeta growled and screamed, his throat aching as he tried to power-up. Like a child throwing a tantrum, the small warrior kicked and convulsed as the panic overtook him. Screaming and screaming, the usually gathered saiyajin completely lost himself to the fear and helplessness, his mind and soul begging for the energy his body so craved.

But there was nothing. As if missing both arms and legs, Vegeta no longer felt whole. He was a saiyajin without ki…and he would never recover from this loss. So he screamed, unable to do anything else as panic and terror gripped him.
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Resolution on a Lonely Planet