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Stupid Monkey	By : VegsMate Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 2428 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer:
Dragonball Z � Akira Toriyama; Stupid Monkey � Me

Warning:
This fic contains mature content: language, lemon, and instances of
abuse and violence. Please HEED the warning!

Author�s Note:
This is story was started in 2001 and is my first attempt at a BV romance. Constructive criticism would be very appreciated.

Chapter 1: The
Haunting

�Stupid monkey!�

I grit my teeth and press my eyes shut as the searing pain
of broken ribs flare more than the pain of my broken left leg and shattered
right arm. But the pain triples its intensity as Frieza lands another swift kick
to my side; I�m rolled onto my back by the force of that blow as I cough out
blood.

�How. Dare. You. Defy. Me!� Frieza rants angrily and with
every word he sends a violent kick to my other side, succeeding in breaking
those ribs too.

The pain is so incredible that I cry out despite my best
efforts. Giving into such a proclamation of weakness, disgusts me. It is enough
to suffer under humiliation like this but it is another thing to give in to a
vocal surrender that sates this monster. It�s mortification at its worst, which
I am so ill-equipped to deal with.

My pride will not allow this kind of abuse as I�m overcome
with hatred towards the lizard abomination. But then he laughs�a sadistic cackle
that is only meant to belittle me. How dare he! I wish desperately to be able to
tell him off, but attempts to do so have gotten me into this predicament to
begin with.

�What do you have to say for yourself? Huh, monkey
prince?�

As I sluggishly gather the faculties to endure the pain, I
slowly open my eyes to see the revolting visage of my enemy smiling at me. I
glare back at him. I refuse to see him given that much satisfaction.

�I see I will have to teach you humility,� he says with
eyes narrowing and brow furrowing, �yet again my little princeling.�

I turn up my nose, my grimace becoming more pronounced, as
I eye him with disgust. It has been nine years now�nine years�and he still
refers to me as though I am a child. I turn my face away from him; my eyes
slowly follow, as I am unable to stand the hideous creature.

I hear him struggle with his indignation at the offense I
just dealt him. But it is not long before he makes me pay for my impudence.

�How dare you! How dare you turn away from me like that,
especially when I�m talking to you?!� He kicks me again, much harder than
before. I gasp, having the wind knocked out of me as I�m rolled over, my broken
bones shifting and contorting in unnatural and painful angles. Another blow
lands on my back.

I attempt to suppress my cries but it�s too much...the
pain. My gloved hand digs into the hard floor, as I�m desperate to hold on to
some form of control.

�You fucking, ungrateful bastard! I ought to kill you!�

The intensity of the next blow sends me into a
gut-wrenching scream, filled with raw pain and anguish, not so much of the body
but of my mind and heart. I hate myself for being so weak that I cannot even
defend myself. It eats away at me constantly just like the humiliation of
not being able to avenge my race. The agony is too much�it�s all consuming�as
I�m knocked into eternal darkness, wishing with all that I am that I will never
wake up.

But I�m not unconscious as I bolt upright in to a sitting
position. I immediately clasp my hands over my mouth to stop the tirade of my
vocal cord�s reverberation.

My breathing is crazed. My heart is pounding insanely in
my ears.

Then I realize with immense relief that none of my limbs
are pulsating with pain; neither my ribs, nor my back. But relief is snatched
away from me, as it is apparent that I had been dreaming.

Damn Frieza! Damn him!

Why must it be that even in death he manages to torture
me? It is too common of late.

I bury my face in my hands, too ashamed of myself that
even the darkness�which has brought comfort in cloaking my ignominy on many
nights�is no longer adequate. I shudder as a cold chill surrounds my sweaty
form. At the moment I am not aware of the role the open balcony door plays as it
lets in a mild summer breeze, lightly fanning though the draperies.

I�m too despondent to calm myself down, and all I can do
is hug myself; my shoulders slump and my head hangs low. I keep on trembling as
the memories continue their hideous dance in my head, and despite myself I
whimper.

Never do I feel so lost as I do during times like these.
But in my vulnerability, I allow myself the comfort of feeling. I don�t know why
it seems comforting to be in this sorry state. I know that it is a pathetic
luxury I don�t often get, for it is when I am truly alone that I sometimes break
down. I am at my weakest and I loathe myself for it. The disgrace of it all is
too much for me. It weighs me down mercilessly.

I should be stronger than this.

I close my eyes as if to cancel out what I�m feeling. I
wish I could get past all this. I wish to be numb. I thought that I was, hoped
that I was. So many years in Frieza�s army should have destroyed the part of me
which contains emotion. Going through constant torment and abuse, I believed
that I could not feel. I learned to close myself up but when I was around others
it was a constant struggle to no allow them to see the hurt in me. My pride
was great. It would not allow such an open display, for the sake of dignity. I
would not be exploited or humiliated because of my weakness. I thought that if I
suppressed my weakness it would dissolve into nothingness. But I have come to
know that it was never the case�

Although I�ve never showed myself to anyone, I feel too
damn much! And I hate myself for it. This damn misery! Why can�t I just expel
these feelings? Why must I feel constantly? Why can I not forget?

I press my eyelids even tighter and I grit my teeth as I
shake my head side to side, in an attempt to discard the pain and humiliation.

Suddenly I feel something cool on my shoulder. What the
hell? I flinch away with wide eyes and a feeling akin to fear shoots through my
heart. I fall back on my bed and I think I let a sound of alarm pass my lips.

�Vegeta... It�s me...Bulma.�

What? My eyes focus in the dimness as I realize light from
the hallway has poured into my room. And I see that it is indeed the onna that
has touched me. She stares at me incredulously, and I curse myself for my
cravenness and inattention to my surroundings. I should have known better. I
attempt a scowl but to my great shock I find that my cheeks are moist. I know
that I have been upset but to let tears fall...and for her to see...

�What do you want, onna?� I intend to sound harsh, but I
can�t believe the meekness that slithers from my throat. Damn her for being here
and seeing me at my worst! She has no right!

�Ar-are you alright, Vegeta?� she asks, her voice thick
with...concern? But how can that be? I must be mistaken.

�I�m fine,� I attempt to sound cold.

�Are you sure? I heard you screaming.�

�. . .�

That is a blow to my pride. I did not think about that. I
cannot believe that I did�that she heard. But then why would she otherwise be
here? I look away, too mortified to hold eye contact. �Leave me...� I begin
hoarsely, �I do not wish to be bothered by you.�

�But Vegeta,� she implores, perhaps assuming that my lack
of composure is license to convert me to her human ways. �If something is
wrong��

�Are you deaf, onna? I said leave!� My wavering voice
isn�t my own. I wish she would be gone already.

�Vegeta, I�m just worried about you.�

�Do not insult me with your paltry emotions,� I say.
Finally I have command of my voice, and it is as uncaring as it ought to be.
�The Saiya-jin no Ouji cares not for your agitating solicitude! Now be gone from
my presence before I blast you out!�

The expression of compassion on her visage drastically
changes into anger. �How dare you threaten me, you stupid jerk! All I have is
concern for you. Now I know it is a waste to ever show anything of the like to
your ungrateful ass! Well fine, great monkey prince! See if I ever care!�

With that she promptly turns away and stalks out of my
room, slamming the door with ferocity as she leaves muttered curses in her wake.

Damn her. She should know better than to invade my
privacy. Argh! She is not allowed to see me like this!

Bitch.

~~~*~~~***~~~*~~~

Japanese
Translated:

Baka: idiot

Bakamono: stupid thing

Bakayaro: asshole

Onna: woman

Ne?: yes? no? eh?

Ouji: prince

Gomen Nasai: very sorry

Kisama: you fuck

Gomen: Sorry

Nani?: what?

Hai: yes

Moshi Moshi: Hello
(over the phone)

Sionara: goodbye

Ja
ne': see ya

Kuso: damn

Arigatou: Thank You

I�ll add more as the story goes along. ^_^
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