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Breaking the Prince (Part 2)	By : Doog Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2232 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters. I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N: Thank you for the encouraging reviews for Part 1. I am a first-time poster and they were awesome to see. Warning: If you have not read Part 1, Part 2 is not going to make sense. You will notice that some of the chapters, especially the later ones, include content from Dragon Ball Z. This is to elaborate on Vegeta's perspective and to provide new meaning to the action taking place. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it.
For Piquan (my patient, encouraging, knowledgeable, creative, and enthusiastic editor)
Chapter One
            Vegeta winced as full consciousness returned to his ravaged body. He was lying prone on the smooth floor, sprawled where Freeza had thrown him down, apparently with enough force to rattle his senses. Vegeta kept his eyes closed in an attempt to ward off the throbbing sensation of what felt like his brain swelling against his skull. Maybe if I just lie here...Vegeta could feel his left arm at the back of his head and suppressed the urge to groan as he experimentally curled his hand into a fist. At least, he tried; everything beyond his elbow was painful and unresponsive. Realizing his thoughts were drifting, he let his forearm relax. He had to steel himself for the next attack. Would it be a stomp into his lower back? Perhaps he would be lifted up to be thrown down again? As each second passed, the imminence of Freeza’s violence seemed to grow.
Not usually one to allow his victim to play dead, Freeza surprised Vegeta by remaining inactive and silent. What is he doing? The ache in Vegeta’s head increased. The more Freeza took his time satisfying his desire to beat him, the longer Vegeta had to endure his injuries. Impatience stirring his temper, Vegeta opened his eyes. Lifting his head, he turned to look back at Freeza as he said, “You are beginning to bore—” Vegeta was cut off by his own surprise at an empty room. Grimacing from his restrictive collar, he turned the other way to confirm Freeza was not lurking anywhere nearby. He was alone.
Small lights flashed across Vegeta’s vision and he promptly dropped his face back to the floor. He thought he had crashed down just seconds before he’d regained awareness, but apparently this was not the case. Had Freeza long since finished with him and left him for the day? If so, why hadn’t he been thrown into a medical machine yet? Was Freeza taking an uncharacteristic break? The darting lights didn’t disappear when Vegeta closed his eyes, but he maintained his focus.
What if Freeza had finished with him, but the medics simply hadn’t come to pick him up yet? This could be a chance, his only chance, at escape. Vegeta had an immediate urge to jump into action, but he was able to overcome his disorientation enough to know this probably would not work. The room in which he was currently lying had to have some sort of controlled entrance, and therefore a limited exit. The electronic pad that accompanied the door would likely require a code. There might even be soldiers posted outside, waiting to vaporize anyone entering or leaving unauthorized. Vegeta had the thought of waiting just inside, ready to eventually overpower the medics as they came through so he could slip out of the already opened door. After more thought, he dismissed the possibility. His energy was limited, and he would do best to conserve what little that remained by holding his current position. Vegeta screwed his eyes tighter as the floor began tilting beneath him. Furthermore, if anyone were posted outside, he would not be able to deal with them at the same time as whomever came inside. It was better to lie in wait and deal with the medics first, which might allow him to gather some information on his location and potential guards.
As much as a life on the run from Freeza was an unwelcome option, Vegeta could not ignore an opportunity to escape. Now that he had learned that the K.R.I. could not be overcome by the methods currently at his disposal, he knew he had to get away from Freeza. His best hope was to seek the expertise of someone outside of the Planet Trade Organization and have the device carefully removed. He just had to stay awake.
What’s taking so long? A sudden stab of impatience twisted through him. If Freeza truly thought that he was beaten enough for the day, shouldn’t the medics have come long ago? Was Freeza really taking the risk that Vegeta would bleed out internally?
Vegeta strained to remain alert for any signs of approach by going over his plan again, trying to anticipate the varied ways in which his enemies might present themselves. Whenever he felt sure of a given scenario, however, the pain in his head washed everything away. The silence of the room seemed to grow louder until a piercing static was buzzing in his head.
The muffled sounds of activity outside the entrance reached Vegeta’s ringing ears. Taking one final, deep breath, Vegeta tensed and waited. He was lying with his head furthest from the door. Whoever they were, Vegeta hoped that this meant that they would approach his legs first.
The high-pitched noise of the entrance opening was another jolt to Vegeta’s pounding head, but he remained still as the sounds of two pairs of footsteps neared at an efficient pace. The door closed promptly behind them as they moved directly towards the unmoving Saiyajin. One set of feet stopped at the left side of his ankles, while the second continued forward until it was at the right side of his waist. Vegeta’s reflexes coiled in anticipation, threatening to overwhelm his determination to act at the most opportune instant.
The pressure of fingertips reaching his right shoulder triggered his arm to fly upward and back. The raw strength of his elbow connecting with the medic’s solar plexus was enough. He curled forward over the elbow as Vegeta shifted his weight up onto his injured left arm and knocked the back of his fist into the medic’s face. As his first victim fell backwards, Vegeta eyes locked onto the other, now terror-stricken medic. Holding his gaze, Vegeta whipped his tail around the medic’s boots and drew them together. Pulling his tail, he spun the medic off balance and sent him falling to the floor. Adrenaline diluting pain, Vegeta rolled himself up from his side and planted a knee into the center of the toppled alien’s back, pinning him solidly to the floor. The sudden movement was jarring to Vegeta’s head, but he managed to stay on top, shifting his weight so he had his knees crushing one arm and the middle of his victim’s back. Vegeta used his functioning arm to grab and force the medic’s free limb backwards, applying a steady, unnatural pressure on it. The large-headed, purple alien cried out in shock and pain, his turned head revealing an expression frozen in a frightened gasp of promised surrender.
After closing his eyes to prevent another episode of the room tilting and spinning, Vegeta looked back over his shoulder to verify that his first target had stayed down. That confirmed, Vegeta visually assessed his left arm, which was hanging uncomfortably at his side. It had felt useless and mangled because it was: everything below his elbow was a crushed and hemorrhaged mess, and some of his fingers were bent in odd directions at the knuckles. Looking at his injured arm as the rush of his attack drained out of him, Vegeta suddenly felt all of the pain he had not yet noticed. He reeled for a moment, leaning forward until he realized that his weight was nearly snapping the bent arm of the medic below him. When Vegeta relieved some of the pressure, the medic choked in heaves of air, the side of his face still pressed firmly to the floor.

Stay focused. Vegeta growled as he forced his disfigured forearm completely from his mind.
“Where are we?” Vegeta snapped, glancing at the door. They may already know something has happened.
The medic coughed and sucked in more air from under the dense body of the Saiyajin before stuttering, “I d-d-don’t know!” Vegeta leaned into his hold again, increasing pressure until he felt joints creaking. The medic gasped and he let up again.
“Where are we? Which planet?”
“They didn’t....t-they didn’t t-tell us,” the alien wheezed. There simply wasn’t time to pursue the matter.
“What’s the code for the door?” Vegeta glared into the tearing eyes that refused to meet his. The medic made no sound to answer, so Vegeta twisted the limb for an enraged second.
“Tell me,” Vegeta spoke the demand like a threat.
“F-Freeza-sama will...will kill me,” the medic coughed miserably.
“Damn it, I don’t have—” Vegeta caught himself before his voice became a loud growl, composing himself as flickering lights teased the corners of his vision. “Of course Freeza is going to kill you, you fucking idiot,” he continued in a low hiss, allowing the medic’s strained arm to relax momentarily. “He is going to kill you quickly, with a flick of his finger. I, on the other hand, will take my time breaking every bone in your body if you don’t tell me the code.” The medic began to whine loudly below him and Vegeta had to quickly wrench his vulnerable arm to restore silence.
“Right fucking now.” Vegeta’s blood pressure was rising again, and his headache was escalating along with it. His physical state was going to be his biggest obstacle, assuming he could overcome this first hurdle.
“It’s...i-it’s, uh--four six seven...nine s-seven three, th-three three, two five six,” the medic squeaked. Vegeta was simultaneously elated to hear the code spoken and confused by the medic’s delivery. As soon as it had been given, it was gone from his memory.
“Again,” Vegeta closed his eyes to concentrate. There was no more time.
   “Four six seven, nine seven, three, three, three, two five six,” the medic spoke faster but more clearly. He had it.
   Vegeta punched swiftly into the soft side of the medic’s elongated head, smashing it. Turning his attention to the door a few meters away, he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He performed one last check of the floor around him: no weapons and no scouters. He did notice a syringe lying nearby, which must have belonged to the first medic. Vegeta’s equilibrium revolted when he bent at the waist to pick it up, but it was better than nothing. Running his only hope over and over in his head, he staggered toward the keypad. It had been a gamble, certainly, to kill the medic before confirming the code worked, but there was limited time and few options.
Holding the loaded syringe with his smallest digits, he pressed his index finger unsteadily into the buttons before him.
With an affirmative bleep, the keypad accepted the code. The Y-shaped seam of the door split open into three pieces that swiftly disappeared into the wall. Vegeta shifted the syringe to a firmer grip in his hand, preparing to stab a third victim if needed. Placing his back flush with the wall, he slid as close as he could to the opening, glancing at the visible sliver of hallway. It appeared to be empty.
Vegeta leapt through the door, twisting to face the unknown enemy standing at the blind side of the exit. Vegeta stood, poised to bring his raised weapon down on no one. He turned to the other side again, dizzy at the absence of soldiers. There was only a long hallway, stretching out to his left and right. The design adhered to the normal standard of many of the compounds he had visited in his life. Lightly-colored, paneled walls framed a narrow walkway that would usually belong to the less congested recesses of a Planet Trade facility. Vegeta leaned his injured side against the wall, trying to steady his legs after his latest sudden movement. His mind had gone blank; he had been so preoccupied with getting past the door and killing any guards outside that he had not fully considered what to do after he made it that far. He had to think: he had been in many of these places before, but had always had a map on his scouter, a way to track his current and intended locations.
I have to move, Vegeta thought in a moment of clarity. He forced his legs to shift below him until he was walking in one direction. It wasn’t long before he came to the hallway’s first branch. It led to a visible dead end, so he kept moving forward, periodically glancing anxiously over his shoulder. There were many plain doors lining his path, tempting him to seek out battle armor to cover his almost nude form. Better yet, he wanted to find a weapon with more range and power than a syringe with a four-centimeter needle. After considering for a moment, he dismissed the idea. The entrances were probably protected with codes and he did not want to risk running into anyone. His best option was to follow a simple path until it led to a larger hallway. The larger the hallway, the closer he would be to finding a pod off of whatever conquered planet this was. Larger hallways also meant a greater chance that he would encounter soldiers, but he still had the element of surprise on his side until someone discovered the dead medics.
Vegeta pushed himself forward, stopping to check around the corners of several intersecting hallways before moving on. The first long corridor he encountered was also empty, so he turned down it. At the very least, he had to try to get away from where he had started. As he walked, he found more unlabeled doors lining the walls to either side. Though his brain was fuzzy, it still struck him as odd for there to be such a large building with so many unassigned or restricted-access rooms. Furthermore, it was unusually empty. A new facility? he wondered, but his thoughts were silenced when his vision began to white out.
Fuck, not now. Vegeta braced his weight against the nearest wall, resting his forehead against the synthetic surface and closing his eyes. It was an anxious reprieve from the burning of the endless rows of lights; he had to keep moving.
When Vegeta leaned back from the wall and blinked his eyes to test his vision, he found himself disoriented. Which way had he come from, and which way was he going? Either side of the hallway appeared the same to him, and he couldn’t regain his sense of direction. Arbitrarily deciding to head to his right, Vegeta suppressed a wave of panic as he forced his heavy feet to move. It was becoming obvious that his head injury was not the only factor keeping his pace slow. Vegeta’s muscles were feeble and sluggish, and what little energy he had marshaled had long since been expended. His neglected body had not walked more than a few paces in months, but it was still a surprise to him that his legs were already burning with exertion. He began to wonder if he were actually dying; had he doomed himself by running from medical care? Vegeta pushed his fatigue and discomfort aside. This was his only chance. He couldn't give up.
Vegeta continued until he reached another intersection in his path. This was the first hallway to completely cross through the other, rather than simply branching off of it. He felt a flicker of excitement. This had to mean that he was nearing an exit from the labyrinth of corridors. Checking both directions for signs of any enemies, he decided to head to the side that had fewer doorways. The larger the rooms, the more general the purpose they served, the closer they were to the center of a base’s activity.
When Vegeta saw the large door that took up most of the wall at the end of the hallway, he quickened his pace. Still clutching the syringe, his right hand steadied him along the wall as he moved with rekindled hope toward the likely exit. As he neared it, he could see that there was no keypad at the door’s side, only a simple screen to activate it. He carefully crossed one last empty, intersecting hallway and slowed as he approached his destination. Vegeta listened for evidence of movement on the other side, pausing to regroup and prepare his legs to run if it became necessary. He simply had to access the dock and get into a pod. No one seemed to know he was missing yet, so it actually seemed possible that he could travel far enough away before anyone could pursue him. It was still a long shot, as he would easily be tracked in a pod, so he would have to find a way to an alien planet and switch to another form of transportation as soon as was possible. Only then would he be able to conceal his location. Vegeta lifted his hand towards the flat screen at the door’s side and extended his index and middle fingers to activate it.
The glass syringe in Vegeta’s raised hand shattered, sending fragments of glass and liquid anesthetic outward in a small explosion. Vegeta flinched. The involuntary movement was his last before he felt an unseen force pressing into him from all sides. He was frozen, leaning slightly forward with his arm outstretched, his fingers centimeters from the touch-activated screen. The unseen force buzzed through him, pressing into him from inside and out, threatening to collapse his lungs. It was as though the K.R.I. had been activated, but instead of electrical pain and flexed muscles, he was simply unable to move. Vegeta’s body strained to escape, but the force continued to press into him and through him until he could not even blink. His mind was also frozen, but in uncomprehending shock. Hot panic washed up through him like a wave of nausea.
“You know, Vegeta,” the voice came from directly behind him. “Sometimes I truly believe that you do things simply because you enjoy being punished.”
No. Vegeta felt the last of his breath being squeezed out through his trachea as the force tightened around him, compressing his rib cage. He felt his extended fingers being curled into the palm of his hand until all of his digits were forming a fist around the slivers of glass still stuck to his palm. Droplets of blood began to seep through the seams of his balled hand, accumulating to form a small, red trickle along the underside of his wrist.
The pressure on Vegeta’s chest let up long enough for him to draw a single desperate breath before it was back again, smothering him with its invisible weight. Vegeta suddenly felt the coolness of a body pressing into him from behind as a hand reached under his extended arm and up to the collar around his neck. The fingers brushed lightly along the lower margin of the black metal as lips moved against the back of his ear. “What do I have to do to show you that there is no escape? When are you going to see that your only choice is to obey? Do you not see, Vegeta?” He couldn’t take another breath in; the power was holding his lungs in suspended animation. His vision was darkening, but he could still hear the voice. “You will always be my pet, and you will always be on my leash. It does not matter how long I allow it to be. You will always be at the end of it. I will always be in control.”
Vegeta felt the malicious energy leave his body and he immediately crumpled forward to the pale floor, his bloodied hand pressing into the still-closed door. As he tried to take in enough oxygen to not pass out, he felt a fistful of his hair being grabbed at the base of his skull. His body twisted as he was jerked backward from his intended exit. Vegeta was still gasping for air as he was lifted up and onto his knees, his head wrenched back on his neck until his collar was pressing into his throat. His face now forcibly upturned, his eyes rose to meet his tormentor.
Freeza smirked down at Vegeta. The Saiyajin placed his functioning hand against Freeza’s torso as if to push himself away, but it only slid feebly against Freeza’s armor before falling to join his left arm at his side. He was deliriously exhausted; he couldn’t even muster the energy to be disappointed at his failure to escape.
After studying the pained expression on Vegeta’s face at length, Freeza let him fall to his hands and knees on the floor, but did not let go of his hair. Freeza began to walk triumphantly back into the depths of the base, dragging Vegeta with him. Vegeta tried to get his legs beneath him, but only managed to kick weakly. He tried to claw at Freeza’s hand at the back of his head, but Freeza simply gave Vegeta’s head a short, violent shake. Too dizzy and exhausted to struggle any more, he hung lifelessly in Freeza’s grasp.
Staring down at the floor sliding beneath him, Vegeta felt his will to fight being crushed under the now obvious impossibility of escape. Freeza had never used his telekinesis directly on him before, though Vegeta had witnessed it on several rare occasions. Almost worse than the disturbing pressure of Freeza’s body standing against his, the unseen tendrils of Freeza’s power holding him motionless had been a violation. It was difficult to deny: whether by manipulating his mind or body, Freeza had him.
Vegeta didn’t look up when Freeza activated a door, not needing to see what was inside. It didn’t matter. He had lost again. Freeza tossed Vegeta inside, the Saiyajin sliding head-first along the floor to come to a stop a few meters ahead. Vegeta clenched his glass-riddled fist to distract himself from the agony rearing up through his head. He silently willed himself to pass out, but the darkness didn’t come.
“I have underestimated you again, Prince,” Freeza spoke as he approached. “Apparently you require more attention if you are still able to crawl around my base.” Vegeta could feel Freeza standing over him, but he continued to stare unresponsively at the blank wall facing him. “You lie there as if you are near death. You behave as though you can not take any more. And when I leave you, when I show you undeserved mercy, you try to sneak away.” Freeza paused to let a quiet laugh flutter down to him. “You are a coward, Prince Vegeta.”
Though he knew it was a trick meant only to incite a reaction, Vegeta’s chest tightened at being called a coward. No one, not even Freeza, had ever called him that. He could not shut his ears, so he shut his eyes, denying that there was any truth in what Freeza was saying. He knew that Freeza was the coward for torturing him, but to admit this was to again acknowledge his complete inability to defend himself.
“The excellent thing about cowards is that they can be shaped by their fear. And thus, they can be easily trained. One must simply apply rewards and punishments at the appropriate times,” Freeza explained nonchalantly. Vegeta felt the point of something graze the side of his back. “Since you can not be trusted, I will be the judge of when we have finished,” Freeza announced. Before Vegeta’s body could tense, he heard the whistle of something moving through the air above him and felt a sharp point cut into his back in one long slash. His involuntary cry was cut off immediately as this was repeated, breaking his skin in another line down the length of his spine. A rapid succession of strikes along his back left him shaking. Without much pause, the attack continued. Vegeta’s torso turned slightly, but he could not avoid the thin lines of agony that penetrated the muscles of his back. The blows became fiery slashes that left his sides wet with blood as his struggling exposed new expanses of flesh to mutilate. The stings of the onslaught were at once individually horrific and incomprehensible. After several long seconds, Vegeta knew what was happening.
His tail, he thought. He was being whipped by Freeza’s tail. The anguish caused by the sharp point of the appendage erased all thought of suppressing pained cries. Vegeta’s eyes were open again, and he could see the arcs of blood splattering onto the floor and walls around him as Freeza’s tail rapidly changed direction to come down on him. The tail whipped into him again and again, until Vegeta was sure that he would be hoarse long before he could black out.
The torment continued, Freeza pausing only to use his foot to press Vegeta flat to the floor whenever he began to twist too far to one side. Images of Freeza’s tail grazing and cutting into the backs of his ribs and slicing free large pieces of his flesh blurred with Vegeta’s concussed vision. When Vegeta’s screams grew more raw and defeated, Freeza stopped. The opportunity to catch his breath left Vegeta’s lungs heaving, and the rapid expansion and compression of his chest made the cut muscles of his back burn. He couldn’t begin to guess how many times he had been whipped, but his back felt as raw and bloody as ground meat.
Freeza’s tail, still slick with blood, forced its way between Vegeta’s abdomen and the floor. The tail curled back and lifted until Vegeta was vertical, raised just off of the tiles and turned to face his enemy. Vegeta’s silent grimace became a pained cry as the tail tightened its coil around his midsection, applying a cruel friction along his bloodied back. His left arm remained a bruised and broken mess at his side, but his right arm was free to grab at the tail encircling him. The tail tightened again, wrenching a short scream from him. Instinctively, Vegeta clawed at the pink, segmented snake with his nails.
Noticing this, Freeza smiled at Vegeta. “Trying to escape again, Prince?” he laughed as Vegeta angrily continued his feeble attack. Freeza’s mood suddenly swung from amusement to rage, and he constricted his tail again. “You will never escape.” Freeza’s voice was loud and stern. Vegeta’s lungs burned and he could feel his ribs cracking. If Freeza’s tail didn’t stop squeezing, he was going to be crushed. He batted and clawed more wildly at the tail around him, but was helpless to make it end. His nails dug into the pink flesh, tearing into it as he raked across it.
A pain in the center of his chest woke Vegeta from his nightmare, his limbs tightening in anticipation of fighting or fleeing. He was sitting with his back to the wall, his hands clutching at his chest, panting as his pupils dilated in the low light. Within an instant, Vegeta realized that Freeza was not with him but that his front was covered in blood. He looked down at himself as he lifted his hands away to reveal several bloody scratches at the base of his sternum. Vegeta stared in bewilderment at the injuries, his mind still half-asleep and uncomprehending. Finally, he stared at the palms of his hands. They were smeared with blood. Turning his hands over to look at the tops of them, he saw that his nails were lined with red. Fuck.
Looking up from his intact hands, Vegeta fully realized where he was. He was in his quarters, traveling to some unknown destination on Freeza’s ship, just as he had been for several days now. Vegeta furtively assessed his room, scanning the space for Freeza. It was as though he had been there only seconds ago, and the uneasy feeling that he might still be present kept Vegeta’s heart pounding.
Vegeta pushed himself up from the floor, holding one hand over his scratches as he moved towards the attached room where there was a shower. The motion of him standing activated the lights that lined the far wall, adding to his disorientation at being tossed between two very believable realities. He gave the room’s only exit a wide berth as he passed it, entering the wash area. The lights inside switched to life as well, and it was a relief to confirm that he was completely alone. His instincts were still churning, but he attempted to calm himself.
Without removing his black shorts, Vegeta stepped under the vertical shower head and activated its shortest cycle using the screen in the wall. Cool water fell down around him, wetting his hair and his still-tightened muscles. As the water fell down his front, he tried to relax his breathing but was unable to stop himself from glancing furtively into the main room. After his immediate tension began to ease, he lifted his hand away from his self-inflicted scratches to inspect the damage.
There were several places where he’d removed shallow lines of flesh as well as deeper gouges where his fingernails had dug desperately at what he had thought was Freeza’s tail. Thankfully, it was something that would heal quickly and without medical attention. Vegeta hastily cleaned the cuts and dug the blood out from under his nails, wanting all traces of his nightmare to disappear down the drain. Without lingering to enjoy the feeling of the water, Vegeta reached up to the pad with tentative familiarity to start the drying phase early. Warm air immediately replaced the water, forcing the beads of water to slide down his skin until they formed smaller and smaller tracks and evaporated. He ran his fingers from the base of his hair to its tips until it lifted into its natural position. The material of his shorts dried quickly, and the last thing to be freed of moisture was his tail, which he re-wrapped around his waist. He pressed his hand over his scratches when blood began to seep out again. When the pressure alone wasn’t enough to completely quell the oozing, he gritted his teeth. This is unacceptable, he thought, staring with disgust at what he had unintentionally done. Disgust became anger as he let his fingers spark with ki. Acting on impulse, he ran his fiery fingertips quickly over the small cuts, instantly cauterizing them. He suppressed a hiss at the slight pain, inspecting himself to verify that the wounds were completely closed.
A chirp announced the completion of the shower process after Vegeta had already stepped back into the main room of his quarters. Vegeta glanced at his bed, which had remained mostly unused since he’d first been returned to Freeza’s ship. Instead of lying down on it, he returned to his spot along the side wall where he could keep an eye on the door. Placing his back to the cool surface, he slid into a sitting position with his knees bent in front of him. Too agitated to attempt sleep again, he sat, staring forward in frozen silence until the automated lights dimmed.
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Breaking the Prince (Part 2)