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The Spaces In Between	By : ctsama Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1627 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, Dragonball Z, Dragonball Super, Resurrection 'F', or Battle of Gods or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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This is dark, dark, dark. Very Bad Things are about to happen. I’ve been sitting on this chapter for almost a year, but I finally decided to post it for two reasons. It gives insight into Vegeta’s perception of ‘tolerable.’ And what’s more, there are a lot of fics that explore rape and trauma, but sometimes the partner’s experience is overlooked. To me this is more about Goku’s character and the strength, dedication and endless patience and compassion it takes to love and support a Survivor.

Takes place during Goku and Vegeta's training with Whis, before Beerus' awakening.

Again, this story isn’t necessary to the greater storyline. Please read with caution. Thank you.

No More.

Hey, Vegeta. Can you hear me?

As Goku expected there was no response. His mate was curled in a tight ball as far away from him as he could get, locked down inside his dream, sequestered inside whatever horrors Vegeta wished to hide from him. It was the third night in a row now and Goku was pretty sure his own curiosity was the cause. Vegeta had warned him that panic attacks and nightmares had always happened and were going to keep happening, whether they were triggered by something or not.

But Goku still felt like shit when it was his words or actions that inadvertently sent his mate into a tailspin.

He wanted to know why Vegeta had finally decided to go up against Freeza directly when he did. Vegeta had answered him in general terms only, his speech halting and clipped. “Circumstances… changed. I was… pushed too far.”

He wouldn’t go into detail as to what that actually meant, instead distracting his curious mate with a pleasant diversion.

The nightmares had begun that night.

They happened from time to time and though he would have much preferred to do what he could to be there for his mate Goku typically slept through the attacks. But the intensity in this round of nightmares had been enough to wake him every time.

He was never able to wake Vegeta or slip inside those dreams though. When he tried it just didn’t work; he ran into walls that were impenetrable. But maybe, he thought, this time would be different. Whis’ training had been particularly intense today and Vegeta had been exhausted by the end of it.

True to his hopes when he tried to slip into the dream it didn’t wake the prince the way it usually did. The dream continued and Goku found that he could only watch as it unfolded.

_________________________________________________________________________________
He’d given Freeza more than enough blood this night, enough to keep him dreaming of rapturous conquest for weeks to come.

Vegeta knew this. Because Freeza delighted in telling him so.

As Freeza’s tail slid from his throat Vegeta’s head rolled to the side and he hacked up another offering of the stuff for his self-proclaimed owner’s comfort.

A cool hand stroked his cheek but he lacked the energy to bite it. The lizard had been rougher on him than he had ever been before. But the curious touches he now received, that false-gentleness that had begun a year ago always signaled the end of the tortures and Vegeta knew he would finally be allowed the cold comfort of unconsciousness.

Freeza’s murmuring voice tried to follow him but he fled from the confusingly soft tones, slipping into the dark.

He was roused by a warmer arm around his back, the jostle of being over someone’s shoulder and a familiar, stomach-churning scent told him he’d been given to Zarbon this night. Or was it day now? It wasn’t like it really mattered how long this went on. The vacuum of space provided him a perpetual night.

So many desired the striking green beauty that handled him so easily, fought for his attention and considered themselves lucky to receive it. And by all accounts, when Zarbon did take lovers there was nothing but swooning praise for his amazing skill in the bedroom.

But none of them had felt the touch of his true tastes. Most of the ones who did were mercifully killed before they could ruin Zarbon’s image of perfection by speaking to the depravities they’d endured. Vegeta alone was unlucky enough to suffer it repeatedly.

Zarbon would take him to the infirmary and extend this nightmare experience for as long as possible, taking him as close to the brink of death as he could before he was forced by Freeza’s mandate to give Vegeta’s abused body to a healing tank. There was no way he was going to tell anyone, and they both knew it.

Vegeta was swimming in and out of consciousness but through his delirium he noted a change in direction as Zarbon navigated the empty hallways. He was thrown through the air and landed on something soft. More of that scent and Vegeta wanted to vomit. ‘Zarbon’s… bed?’

Dark eyes fluttered open, taking in the scene with a sense of detached horror and disbelief. The first thing he noticed were the mirrors; of course the vain piece of shit had them everywhere. The next thing he saw stunned him. Freeza would never have approved this, he knew it. It was a step too far, too many steps too fucking far. Surely Zarbon wasn’t this stupid…

And yet, Zarbon settled himself in an overstuffed, decadent chair, one leg flung over the side like spoiled royalty watching him with a smug smile. Clearly he was that stupid.

Vegeta looked up, meeting each of four pairs of eager, malicious eyes with a snarl though his vision swam.

More than a little envious of Ginyu and his assembled team, it amused Freeza’s second to refer to these four as the ‘Zarbon Force.’

They weren’t Freeza’s strongest, not even close. Nor were they particularly adept at command. But the qualities they did possess were infinitely more important to Zarbon. Like him they were as close to physical perfection as was possible by a mortal. And they fed his ego, treated him as though he were a god himself. They knew and coveted their place at their ringleader’s feet. And in return for their fierce loyalty Zarbon rewarded them with status, assignments, and favors that only Freeza’s Second could provide.

Those favors included making a fucktoy of Freeza’s favorite pet, it seemed.

Too many hands were pawing at him, pulling at him and holding him down, too many bodies around him. What few shreds of clothing Freeza had left him were ripped off in their hasty excitement. He fought them as best he could but Freeza had left his body bloody, beaten and broken.

He managed to add some of their blood to his, but in the end they took him like a camp-following whore, using him sometimes two at a time. His raw throat ached, his stomach lurched with the vile fluids they pumped into it, his ears burned with the pleasured grunts and groans they let loose as they found their climax on him or inside him.

Though his body hurt in surprisingly new and terrible ways it was familiar. He’d long ago learned to endure the pain, to swallow his rage and let it give him strength. Rage burned hot, hotter and hotter deep inside him and he molded it, strengthening his shields that kept these humiliations from destroying him.

Worse than the physical pain though were the words. Taunts and insults, jabs and jeers he should not have had to endure from those weaker than himself. They mocked him for his weakness, laughed at how far the proud and mighty had fallen.

And they congratulated Zarbon for being the one to discover Freeza’s sweet little monkey’s true talents.

He’d depleted his strength in his futile struggles against Freeza and he needed all his accumulated anger to protect himself during this degrading assault. Were it not for that these fools would never have stood a chance against him. And they dared, they dared….

Zarbon’s smug expression never changed as he watched his flunkies taking turns on him. They dared because Zarbon dared. And Vegeta committed that fucking smug expression to memory, promising himself he would remember it as he watched the life fade from his long-time tormentor’s eyes.

The one behind him picked up speed, holding him tightly to him with a vice-like arm around his chest. The fool panted hotly into his ear like a filthy mongrel and the frantic pounding of his hips as he neared his climax forced the cock in his mouth even deeper, making him choke on more than just his rage. They released about the same time and Vegeta retched as soon as his airway was clear once more, collapsing forward when the hands holding his head up and jaw open let him go. He was still impaled from behind and he felt more hot liquids trailing down his inner thighs again.

Then it was the dizziness when he pulled out. Blood loss, Vegeta guessed. Even a hardy Saiyan body could only take so much. He was nearing the danger threshold, the point at which he would need the healing tank to survive his injuries. Thankfully the others seemed to have satisfied themselves with his already damaged body. They cleared away, abandoning him on the damp, bloody sheets but he knew better than to think it was over for the night.

Zarbon had yet to take his turn.

The green-skinned beauty never minded sloppy seconds, had even said that he preferred Vegeta broken in before he had his fun.

The four others faded into the periphery and Vegeta’s body shook, whether with shock or rage he could no longer say. “Do you like my anniversary present, Vegeta?” Zarbon saw the flicker of confusion and smiled. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. How callous of you! It’s been twenty years to the day since you last screamed for me, little monkey,” Zarbon whispered softly to him. “And your refusal to give me another one is really beginning to piss me off. Haven’t you had enough for tonight? I can end your pain now, release you to go hide under Lord Freeza’s skirts again. Just ask me - better yet, beg me. If you don’t… I’ll just have to keep trying for my scream.”

Vegeta’s cracked lips moved and Zarbon had to move closer to hear his words.

Vegeta moved faster than either of them expected, biting his earring and ripping it out of his ear. Zarbon held the torn, bloody skin, flinching when Vegeta spit the earring out into his face. For a moment all he could do was scowl down at Vegeta in rage as he gave a feral smile, “It’s not me… who’ll need Freeza’s protection after this y- you stinking piece of shit. This face is the… last thing you’re ever going to see in this world, I swear it.”

Zarbon’s looming, pissed-off face was the last thing Vegeta saw before the darkness and pain swallowed him. The bastard was as always creative in his cruelty, this time showing off to the continued jeers and encouragement of his lackeys.

Vegeta’s body was in negotiations with death by the time the cool liquid of the healing tank swallowed him.

But he doggedly held onto consciousness.

He would not shatter, would not allow himself to be defeated.

He was Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans, born of a fierce warrior race to do one thing, and do it well.

He would fight.

The rage still churned, burning brighter by the minute until Vegeta had healed just enough, had gained just enough energy.

His eyes opened less than a quarter of the way through his treatment.

Just enough was all he needed.

A muffled, growling roar was the only warning before the tank exploded from the inside. Standing naked in the infirmary Vegeta assessed his injuries, looking down to see blood mixed in with the healing tank liquid pooling at his feet. All the other gouges and gashes on his body had at least closed up, there was only one possible source for the blood. Growling at the inconvenience he stopped just long enough to pull on a pair of black shorts from one of the lockers. Though he was past the point of caring about his state of undress he would have had to kill any soldiers who saw how he was injured. And that would take up precious time.

He considered putting on a pair of gloves but decided against it. For once in his life he wanted to feel the touches he intended to give.

His senses on high alert Vegeta stalked the hallways, pain dogging his every step. It didn’t take long before his sensitive nose put him on the right trail.

They hadn’t bathed. The scent of his humiliation still clung to Zarbon’s retinue and they wore it proudly.

They would die in it. All of them.

Vegeta heard them before he saw them, laughing, joking about what they’d done to him. It was late at night, the dining hall was otherwise empty of anyone who might have overheard their boasts, though Vegeta would have cut anyone down who had heard without a second thought.

An unfocused blast of pure ki was enough to incapacitate them. One by one he pulled them off the floor. And one by one he gave them personal attention with his bare hands, salving himself with the satisfying sounds of their pleading.

He laughed mirthlessly as they called for their master’s aid or invoked his name like a safeguard. The fools had actually believed that Zarbon’s favor would protect them from him. Zarbon himself had believed it.

Fools, all. And dead fools at that, even Zarbon.

His time would come.

Vegeta took his time with them as they had taken their time with him. There were no energy attacks to cauterize wounds, no quick and merciful strangling. Just blood and pain, the same gifts they had given to him, though delivered in a different manner.

The prettiest one, the follower who had hurt him most died the worst, eviscerated and left to bleed out as Vegeta knelt and watched. But Vegeta had been kind to him, kind enough to finally return his demands from earlier as he twisted his hand in the open wound. “Look at me,” he whispered harshly. “Watch me while I’m inside you.”

The one he’d saved for last hadn’t been as brutal as the rest. Though he hadn’t been gentle, he’d at least been quick. Lying there in a state of traumatized shock with both legs crushed, he was to be a message. He screamed in terror as Vegeta came for him, only to break off in confusion when Vegeta simply hauled him up by his collar and dragged him through the dark, empty hallways to Freeza’s briefing room.

The doors slid easily open to reveal Freeza there with Zarbon and Dodoria. Vegeta’s stormy, feral gaze found Zarbon’s shocked one. He flung the ruined body at the beautiful, green-skinned alien’s feet, watching Zarbon and silently daring him to aid his follower. It took a few seconds but Zarbon finally took his eyes off Vegeta, turning them to the pathetic, pleading pile at his feet and in that moment Vegeta blew a hole through his head as he continued begging his master to save him.

Dodoria laughed out loud at the display, but neither Vegeta or Zarbon took notice of him. Zarbon’s eyes narrowed, flying back to Vegeta’s dark scowl. He and Vegeta stared at each other for a few tense moments, Vegeta watching Zarbon like a hawk for any sign of aggression that would justify his powering up and taking him on. Zarbon’s lip curled into a snarl and Vegeta could see his muscles tensing for an attack. Almost eagerly he fell into a crouch but Freeza moved to stop them both.

The tyrant’s usual levity was strangely absent as he interrupted. “Zarbon. Stop this. Immediately.”

It took the snarling, furious warrior a moment to relax once more and Vegeta, thwarted in his revenge struggled to remember something beyond the roaring storm of his own rage. He turned to Freeza, his fury still demanding that he find it an outlet.

Freeza wasn’t stupid, it wasn’t difficult to see what had happened this night and the coldly analytical part of Vegeta’s mind watched Freeza putting it all together.

Zarbon had foolishly allowed his coven of ego-boosters to abuse his pet monkey. He’d put everything at risk with his ridiculous vanity, trying to look like a bigger man than he was to his flunkies. Freeza couldn’t let it slide. He had to reassert control over his pet, and it had to see Zarbon punished or he could have a big problem on his hands.

Hands behind his back Freeza walked slowly over to his pet, watching the conflict in its eyes as he approached.

At first Vegeta snarled at him and fell back with one foot in preparation to attack, riding pure instinct and the memory of what he’d just endured. His tail lashed out behind him before curling into place and energy began to rise off of him in waves. He could not take anymore tonight, one more violation to add to the night’s tally and he would go mad-

“Vegeta. Look at me,” Freeza warned, though more softly than he’d dealt with the other two. That change in tone was strange enough to grab the attention of his rational mind, snapping Vegeta out of his instinctive reactions. With difficulty he fought his body back under control, stopping the power build and releasing what he’d accumulated.

“Yes, that’s it. Much better.” Between one of Freeza’s slow, measured steps and the next Vegeta fought to regain his civility, his reason. If he bucked Freeza’s control now he would most certainly be put down as a dog gone feral, and he’d yet to gain the strength necessary to take Freeza with him.

He fought through his panic and schooled his face into a semblance of calm and Freeza seemed pleased. But apparently he needed more than that, reaching out to stroke Vegeta’s cheek.

Vegeta knew he would flinch or shy away from that touch when it came. Or worse-

Lean into a touch that had no pain attached.

A cold chill crept slow and ominous up Vegeta’s spine. Where the fuck had that thought come from?

He focused instead on Zarbon’s worried expression at Freeza’s intended show of favor. The touch came, soft and possessive and Vegeta swallowed his rage yet again, choked it down into the core of his being to merge with the rest.

Freeza circled behind him, inspecting him and he almost jumped, feeling that same cool hand stroking across his shoulders, down his naked back, lingering on the dampness of his shorts. “You’re still damaged, my pet.” Vegeta heard regret in Freeza’s tone, though whether it was truly felt or simply feigned for effect he could not say. “You clearly need more time in the healing tank. I take it you have punished those responsible for this?”

This time Vegeta did snarl; Freeza was most responsible, though that wasn’t at all what he’d meant with his question. “All but one are dead, Lord Freeza,” he answered, staring straight at Zarbon.

Freeza nodded to himself. Vegeta had taken the show of ownership in front of others without balking and that seemed enough to convince him that his pet was once again compliant, wholly obedient to his master.

“Zarbon,” Freeza said coldly, turning to his second in command. “You have overstepped. This night’s affronts will not be repeated. From now on Prince Vegeta is off limits to you.”

A small sound that might have been the beginning of a protest formed in Zarbon’s throat but it was stopped when Freeza’s tail lashed out, flinging him against a wall like a limp doll.

Freeza waited patiently for the haughty warrior to shake off his daze. Once he was sure of Zarbon’s continued attention he asked coldly, “Are we clear, Zarbon?”

Zarbon swallowed hard and stood quickly. Bowing, he gave the only non-lethal answer.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Freeza gestured to the bloody corpse near his feet. “Dispose of that, and handle any other refuse on the ship. Personally.” From the amount of blood on Vegeta’s hands and splattered across his body it wouldn’t be an easy task. Manual labor was something Zarbon strictly avoided. And he had actually cared about his entourage, in his way. Being forced to deal with whatever Vegeta had left of them would be suitably demoralizing.

“Dodoria. Do I need to remind you that it isn’t wise to appear to be happy when I am anything but?”

“N- no Lord Freeza!” the pink blob spluttered, the amusement he found in the situation falling quickly from his face. The last thing he wanted was to join in Zarbon’s punishment.

Satisfied, Freeza very deliberately turned his back on Dodoria and his Second to address Vegeta once more. “If he violates you again I will kill him for it,” he repeated to Vegeta. Those hands stretched towards him again and he was too shocked to react when they fell to either side of his face. “You are mine alone now. It was a mistake to risk you, my beautiful pet. You are too important, together we will accomplish great things. Report back to the med bay until you’re finished healing. I will have a mission for you and Nappa afterward, something suitably… stress relieving.”

What was happening was clear to Vegeta though this shift in Freeza’s behavior confused the hell out of him. He could read the story in those dead red eyes before Freeza dismissed him after one last caress.

Freeza could only hope that he’d done enough to salve Vegeta’s damaged pride. That he could so easily dominate Vegeta was humiliating but at least he could salvage his dignity with the knowledge that Freeza’s strength was as yet too far beyond his for Vegeta to win against him. Allowing Zarbon to brutalize him from time to time gave his little monkey something to aim for that was a little more within reach; Freeza knew it wouldn’t be long now before Vegeta was able to kill his second and take his place. But Zarbon’s retinue…

They were weak compared to Vegeta. There was no way even all of them together could have laid a hand on him had Freeza not weakened him so beforehand. Even though Vegeta had presumably killed all of his attackers and injured Zarbon by eliminating his entourage the slight would continue to haunt, continue to sting him.

The master knew his pet - or thought he did. He would watch it very, very carefully for a while, until he was sure of its continued good behavior.

________________________________________________________________________________
Vegeta floated in the cool liquid of an un-destroyed healing tank once more, boiling in his own rage. He was an old hand at using it to focus him, to stay awake when his body would have otherwise given in to shock and right now he needed to think more than he needed rest.

Confusion over Freeza’s behavior dominated his thoughts. He was up to something but Vegeta hadn’t been willing to put it together yet. He’d been avoiding it; spending as little time as possible analyzing Freeza’s abuses was key to his continued sanity. But there was always great danger in not knowing Freeza’s mind…

Vegeta forced himself to do it, trying to stay distant as he contrasted Freeza’s past behavior with his more recent changes.

He hadn’t missed the lingering touch, the softness that was slowly becoming more frequent. Freeza wasn’t being any less brutal when he called for his pet, quite the opposite. When their sessions had begun Freeza had always started with various forms of ‘foreplay’ that whet his appetite for the main festivities. He had his favorites: letting Vegeta fight until he tired himself out, scores of cuts and scratches that left his whole body slick with his own blood, or choking him to the point of unconsciousness, letting him catch his breath only to start all over again…

Now though, he was naked and impaled within minutes of entering Freeza’s quarters and if Vegeta didn’t know better he could swear Freeza was just too eager to wait.

Another strange change gave him even more pause. More often than not lately Freeza praised him for enduring the pain once he’d finished with him. He’d even stopped bringing out that gleaming collar, relying more on his hands to subdue him now.

The show Freeza had made today of punishing Zarbon had shocked him. It was clear that Freeza was being protective of him though it made less than no sense. The fucking reptile had depleted him with pain earlier that very evening, knowing he was left defenseless against Zarbon’s machinations in the first place-

It all fell into place. Vegeta’s stomach turned and a burst of bubbles escaped his mask as he whimpered unheard. Even his ever-present shield of tightly controlled rage crumbled. Never in his life had he felt so sick, never in his life had he been so close to tears of pure frustration.

Freeza was screwing with his head.

Manipulating his responses, grooming him. Wanting not only a powerful and loyal Second in him, but a tractable and obedient lover as well.

Pain was something Vegeta knew well; he could fight it, absorb it, use it. So far Freeza hadn’t attempted to control him with pleasure or gentle words, things he had no idea how to handle or counter but he was turning that way.

And as much as he didn’t want to believe he could lose he knew, knew that once Freeza began that line of attack in earnest he would get what he wanted. It was only a matter of time. The proof was in his own responses, in the half-conscious twinge of pride he felt at Freeza’s praise. And his fist clenched remembering how - for however brief a time - he had almost felt safety in Freeza’s touch today.

He couldn’t imagine being able to feel more disgusted with himself. His father had been right all along, he truly was soft.

Weak.

There truly was something very, very wrong with him.

‘He’s… going to win. Oh gods… he will have me defeated.’

Even with Freeza deigning to cooperate with his need for privacy it had been a nightmare in itself to keep his abuse hidden from Nappa and Raditz. If what Freeza had done in front of Zarbon and Dodoria just now was any indication, once he became a willing participant in their sexual encounters Freeza would make his carnal dominance of him public knowledge.

And his people - the last of them, anyway - would know how powerful their Prince truly was.

All he had left was his will, his unshakable pride in being a Saiyan warrior Elite. And now Freeza was going to take that from him too.

‘I won’t let it happen. I would rather die.’

He could take these insults, these humiliations no longer. Nor could he allow Freeza to make of him a willing sex toy. The day Freeza didn’t have to pry his legs open would be the day he killed himself and tried to take Freeza with him.

Vegeta had yet to gain the full measure of strength he’d hoped to before this day came, but it didn’t matter now. The resistance had - out of pure necessity - begun in earnest this night.

The former prince cursed into his mask, setting another batch of bubbles rising past his face. If only he had more time, time enough to bridge the gap between their power levels no matter how long it took… Then he wouldn’t need anyone else. He could run, hide, train until he reached the ultimate state of strength. Once he became a Super Saiyan he could finally defeat the bastard… but time was now in far shorter supply than it had been.

Raditz had gone in search of his brother, wanting more glory and profit in Freeza’s planet-selling market. Vegeta had dismissed it as a foolish waste of time, but now the idea held promise. Depending on this Kakarot’s strength, he might make the difference in the fight against Freeza. Bardock’s great power and fighting ability were well known, and so was his dedication to becoming stronger as a fighter. Raditz certainly hadn’t inherited that dedication, maybe it had fallen to the younger son. Vegeta’s first order of business when he was free of Freeza’s ship again would be to check in with Raditz to see if his search had borne fruit. And then…

Then it would be time to start fighting back… somehow. He would find a way to burn Freeza and his empire down or die trying. No one would ever put him on his knees again, no one would ever touch him again.

A voice in the back of his mind asked, ‘But what if it comes to that? What if it’s the only way?’

Shuddering in disgust Vegeta vowed to do everything he could to find another way. Nappa was the stronger of the two remaining Saiyans by far though his power level was significantly lower than Vegeta’s own. And as much as he loathed to admit it the thought of laying with Nappa after Ginyu had donned his body so many years ago still sent him into a panic that was difficult to cover.

And Raditz was far from worthy. Lazy, hedonistic and unjustifiably full of himself… Vegeta remembered as though it were yesterday, the way Raditz had so carelessly pinned him up against the wall of his quarters, strong alcohol blotting out all other scents as Raditz drunkenly fumbled with his clothes while Vegeta recovered from the shock of his actions. To ‘open him up,’ Raditz had slurred. Because he was ‘wound too tight.’

If Raditz hadn’t been Saiyan he would have died for the offense. As it was, he had awakened.

Eventually.

If Raditz and Nappa had any inkling of what he had the potential to become they would insist on finding a scientist talented enough to awaken the dormant genes, hiding him away and forcing him to do what his nature would then demand. ‘I’ll kill them both before I submit to that.’

Even if this new Saiyan were worthy of getting children on him just thinking about allowing… not fighting, not struggling, allowing anyone to so violate him was unthinkable. He shivered in revulsion at the thought, feeling the sharp and lingering pain of all the rapes he’d endured in the past day.

Fresh anger flooded him. No. It wouldn’t happen again, not ever. He would keep his birthright a secret; no one must ever know of it. There had to be another way...

He would get stronger, step over the corpses of Zarbon and Ginyu to become the Super Saiyan that Freeza feared. And he would see that fear in Freeza’s eyes before the end or all of his pain, all of his patience and sacrifice would be for nothing.

Thoughts of bringing back his people would have to wait until that was done.

He allowed his body to drag him into the dark spiral of unconsciousness and he stayed that way for two days.

Except for a brief moment of lucidity, when his eyes had fluttered open

to see Freeza standing there, one hand on the thick glass, satisfaction curling those thin lips into a smile

or was that…

triumph?

________________________________________________________________________________
Goku rolled out of bed in a beeline for the bathroom in just enough time to throw back the toilet lid and safely lose most of the snack he’d had a few hours ago.

When his stomach was empty he moaned in a kind of pain that was purely of the soul. It had all happened just before his brother’s arrival on Earth, just before Vegeta began his own journey to his adopted homeworld. And he’d slept for so much of that journey that the memory of that awful night must have still been fresh in his mind...

It had always been so important to Vegeta to prove he was the stronger between them. He’d devoted so much time and effort to the task it had irritated Goku to no end sometimes. But it made so much more sense now; his strength had threatened more than just Vegeta’s pride. All of his experiences had taught him to expect only humiliation and abuse from being defeated. Almost as terrible as dying without avenging his race would have been being enslaved again. Violated again.

‘If I knew what he’d been through I would have joined him when he first asked me to. And I’m not sure I ever would have looked back.’

Goku dropped the lid on the mess in the toilet, flushed it down and collapsed against the wall for a moment to think. Though he thoroughly enjoyed taking refuge in his ‘idiot’ role, it was far from the truth of his capabilities - though he allowed very few people to know that. And with Gohan and Goten as his children he couldn’t not pick up a thing or two about technology. A web search was a simple thing to master, and time after time he’d looked up as much information as he could find on trauma, rape, PTSD and all sorts of articles on the myriad ways abuse - while horrible enough when committed against an adult - permanently and irreparably screwed a person over if committed against them as a child.

But nothing had prepared him for Vegeta’s experiences. Nothing had prepared him for any of this. He had been determined to find a course of action, something to do that would make Vegeta heal and put an end to the pain he’d already had to live in for far too long. He needed some way to put his hands in the problem and fix it, but though he pored over article after article nothing he read gave him the answer be wanted. One computer had died a fiery death after telling him ‘healing takes as long as it takes’ one time too many.

He pushed himself off the floor, going to brush his teeth. At least it was over for tonight, maybe Vegeta could get some rest now. He wanted to talk to his mate about what he’d seen but it could wait until morning.

As he slowly made his way back to bed he frowned at not feeling Vegeta’s thoughts. His mind was still on lockdown. But as before Goku was able to sneak in and he recoiled immediately.

To his consternation he discovered the cycle repeating, Vegeta’s mind just kept replaying the same scenes over and over. It was no wonder he slept but was less rested with every passing day.

Goku was tired, shaken by what he’d seen and wanted nothing more than to fall into the blissful forgetfulness of a deep sleep. But it didn’t once occur to him to simply block Vegeta’s thoughts and do just that, as he could have easily done.

Instead he shook his mate, yelling as tears slipped down his face unnoticed. There was no response so he slipped into Vegeta’s thoughts once more, this time thrusting his presence down their link in an attempt to disrupt the hellish cycle.

Vegeta! Vegeta please, Wake UP!

Vegeta came awake all at once, muscles coiling, preparing to attack even as he mentally flailed out. Goku caught the unconscious cry and answered it by flooding his mate with everything in him. The effect was almost immediate; tense muscles relaxed and Vegeta latched onto their connection with a desperation he rarely let show.

Goku dragged him into his arms as Vegeta violently gasped for air. They both concentrated their efforts on convincing Vegeta’s body it wasn’t restrained and being pummeled by Freeza’s fists. Goku recognized that he was holding on so tightly it must have been crushing but he couldn’t bring himself to loosen his arms. He sobbed openly, unable to help himself.

His horror came from the amount of abuse Vegeta had just accepted as routine, at what it had taken to make him say ‘no more.’

Goku’s tears fell onto Vegeta’s dry-eyed face. He didn’t cry during any of these attacks, he just… didn’t, much to Goku’s eternal confusion. But he shivered, breathing shallow and far too fast. His fingers dug into Goku’s biceps, holding tight as he came down from the awful bombardment of memory. Finally his grip loosened and Goku’s did as well, though very slightly.

“How did you see that?” Vegeta asked thickly. “Did my shields fail?”

“I’m not sure. But whatever it was, I’m glad. You know I wish you wouldn’t try to block me at all.”

“I don’t want you to have these things in your head, you know that, Kakarot. I don’t enjoy causing you pain.”

“...You sure seem to enjoy it when we’re fighting.”

The shaky joke had the effect Goku was looking for; Vegeta relaxed a little more in his arms. But a lingering horror still clung to him. Tentatively Goku reached out to feel it and was surprised that Vegeta let him.

The cause of that horror wasn’t the mirrors that had at times forced him to watch those men using his body for their own pleasure. It wasn’t Zarbon’s audacity or cruelty, nor was it the seemingly endless pain of Freeza’s enjoyment.

It was the thought that Freeza would best him and he would one day allow it, that he would give in to Freeza’s desires without a fight.

Goku knew how difficult it had been for Vegeta to have sex with Bulma, how afraid he’d been of causing the fierce, stubborn woman any pain. He'd feared that he would discover that his own abusers had infected him with their own perversions, that he’d need to give pain for his own enjoyment. He’d been relieved to find this wasn’t true but he still felt he was playing a dangerous game, that he’d hurt her because he just didn’t know anything else.

His own release had been pleasant enough, but a means to an end nonetheless; it certainly wasn’t worth potentially harming someone else to get it. The prince had hoped to swear off anything having to do with sex after Bulma conceived but necessity had forced him into Goku’s arms.

“I hurt you. That first time. I know I did. You were afraid, I remember… you wanted to fight me and make me stop but you had to let me and I... I hurt you.”

“I never gave you a choice. If anyone is to blame it’s me. You know what I was expecting and you didn’t give me that. You weren’t trying to hurt me, Kakarot.” To Goku’s skeptical look and thoughts he gave a lopsided smile. “I know. But it makes a difference to me.”

Vegeta’s hand stroked his cheek, wiping away any tears that fell. “This is why I try to keep these things from you. It hurts you almost as badly to know these things as it did for me to go through them.” His tail was wrapped loosely around Goku’s thigh, lightly stroking in a way he knew Goku found comforting.

The soothing gestures caused more tears to fall, but only from Goku’s own eyes. “Why don’t you ever cry? I know how deep you feel things, so how do you never cry about what happened to you? What they did to you was… evil, and it was all so unfair! After everything you’ve been through, how… how?”

“Why should I? I have you to do it for me.”

“Vegeta, please. And don’t tell me it’s just because Saiyans don’t cry as much as humans. I get that, but this isn’t exactly spilled milk we’re talking about here.”

“I don’t really know. It’s just not something I think about. You ask me why I don’t cry, and I could ask you how you can stand to be with me, or why you’ve chosen time after time to stay. You could have left, I wouldn’t have blamed you. To be honest part of me wishes that… that you would have left. How can you know what’s been done to me, how many times I’ve been used by so many, and still see me with anything but disgust?

“At first I thought it was just pity, or my heat cycles affecting you. But no matter how bad things have gotten or how weak I’ve been you still… want me. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have. And you’re still here. It’s everything to me.”

Goku groaned, pulling Vegeta closer and kissing him with all the tenderness he felt for the man in his arms. It frustrated him but Goku had come to accept that Vegeta was never going to get it. He truly believed that those horrible people targeted him because he was weak, but it was his strength that drew them just as it had Goku himself. Over the years he’d seen how people reacted to Vegeta. Most were afraid of him, of his unashamedly ferocious demeanor. But those who weren’t afraid sometimes saw something they wanted.

My strong, beautiful Vegeta. I know you. I see you, and I love you.

Despite the horrors they’d just seen, the warmth of Vegeta’s body on his, the soft, almost hesitant way he returned Goku’s kisses could only lead to one conclusion. He’d learned that sometimes sex helped to pull his mate out of bad memories, but now wasn’t one of those times. Reluctantly he pulled away, settling them both down and urging Vegeta to lay his head on his chest.

//Kakarot…? Are you sure? I can-//

No, not until you’re ready. It won’t kill me to wait. …I’d wait forever for you.

Goku felt a smile against his chest. “Smooth talker,” Vegeta sighed sleepily.

Rest. I’ll be here.

Goku’s arms wrapped around him a little tighter and Vegeta despaired at ever understanding how he deserved this… this powerful warrior with such a gentle soul that the universe had for some reason entrusted to his care. He would do whatever he had to to keep it safe, from his own darkness if necessary.

The soft rise and fall under his head, the strong beat of the heart that mirrored his own lulled him into sleep.

But Goku’s troubled mind didn’t allow him that rest. “I’m so sorry that I don’t know what to do, that I don’t know how to help you. I’m your mate! Shouldn’t I know what to do to make all your pain go away Vegeta? I feel like such a failure, like I’m missing something really important. ...Vegeta…?”

A light snore startled him, he hadn’t noticed Vegeta’s breathing evening out into the rhythm of sleep. Cursing his inattention Goku slipped surprisingly easily into Vegeta’s thoughts, finding nothing but a deep, restful sleep.

Withdrawing as gently as he could Goku settled himself a little more comfortably, content to stay as he was for as long as Vegeta was asleep, however long that might be. He would almost certainly oversleep his usual breakfast with Whis, but their mentor would understand. His mate very rarely missed that daily appointment, and when it happened it was for a good reason.

Maybe the pain of Vegeta’s past would never just go away like he wanted. There might not even be a fast-acting cure-all for all the damage Vegeta had suffered over the years. Though Goku hated facing that thought, it was a real possibility.

But Vegeta was in his arms, deeply and restfully sleeping. In the past, a nightmare of even lesser impact would have kept him awake for the rest of the night. Even he knew that it was the little victories that sometimes meant the most.

He nuzzled against Vegeta’s hair, kissed his head and felt that soft tail still wound around his outstretched leg. And it occurred to Goku that maybe he didn’t need to know what he was supposed to do. He seemed to know most of what Vegeta needed and he was quickly learning the rest.

Maybe, just maybe…

That was good enough.

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...Now go back and read that first snapshot to cheer up while I go hide under something.
Next will either be the real start of Whis shaking off his apathy, or I'll start setting up some bedroom role reversal.
Zeo: Sorry to be late, and thanks for the push. I've been working up the courage to post this since last night!
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The Spaces In Between