She crawled on her hands and knees until she finally cleared the wood. The cotton field before her was a welcome haven; yes, here she could rest, they wouldn't think to look for her here. She'd taken too many turns through the woods, they must have gotten lost. And even if they didn't, what was the use? After last night. Everything was over. Even if she did survive, nothing would ever be the same.
She struggled to pull herself deeper into the cotton field; the further away from the wood, the better. Sharp sticks and rocks cut into her palms as she pressed forward, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt between her legs. In fact, the sticks and stones were a welcome distraction.
She noticed a black boot in front of her and cringed. Her eyes traveled up the dirty khaki pant leg of a migrant worker who was plucking feverishly at the cotton blooms. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, even though it was she who was in more danger now. The world before her blurred and her head felt heavy. 'I'm going to faint… Oh God…'
She looked up at the migrant man with pleading eyes and whispered:
"Por favor, senor, no dice nada…"And the world went black.
Deep in the woods, a small boy with wild, black hair sped through the overgrown forest, a white and purple turban held high in his tiny hand. His laughter echoed off of the thick trees as he darted in a zig-zag fashion below a very angry Namekian.
"Gohan, you return that immediately!" the green man roared.
The little boy only responded with more laughter as he ducked under a low branch and continued his race. The Namek swooped down out of the sky and fired several eye-lasers at the runaway Gohan. The white-hot beams of light zapped the bark of a few unfortunate trees, but the boy was too far ahead and his zig-zagging made it difficult for his friend to make a direct hit.
"GOHAN!"
"You can't catch me, Piccolo-san!" Gohan squealed and broke free from the dark forest. The boy peeled out into a field of white fluff, giggling as the cotton blossoms tickled his chubby cheeks.
Piccolo burst through a tangle of trees, leaves and large branches exploding around him as he zoomed over the cotton field.
"Big mistake, kid!" Piccolo flashed his trademark smirk and dove down on the small boy, firing laser after laser. Of course he had no intention of hitting his little friend, he was just having some after-training fun. The lasers landed safely on either side of the boy, blowing cotton plants sky high and starting small fires that he could easily take care of after he got his turban back.
Smoke filled the girl's nostrils and she sneezed herself awake. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and saw, to her horror, that a ring of fire surrounded her. The flames were no taller than a foot and she could have easily leapt to safety, but today was not a good day and there could be no easy escape for her considering the damage she'd sustained from the night before. She looked around frantically, trying to locate the migrant worker she had run into earlier.
'He must have fled!' she realized with dread. She had no choice, she needed help.
"Fire!" she screamed. "FIRE!!!"
Gohan's heels dug into the ground as he heard a faint shouting over the flames crackling around him. 'Uh oh!' The little boy's face hardened and he took off in the direction of the faint voice.
When he reached the source of the crying he stopped dead in his tracks. Piccolo misread Gohan's abrupt stop and took the opportunity to scare him with a pair of narrowed lasers meant only to graze the sides of his gi and essentially scare him shitless. The lasers burst forth at Piccolo's commanding growl and burned a good chunk of the boy's clothing, but it wasn't Gohan who cried out in response; what Piccolo heard was a female voice. A very pained female voice.
'What the hell was that?' he thought as he descended to the ground. He walked over to Gohan and his jaw dropped momentarily at the sight before him. His hand shot out without warning, knocking Gohan to the ground, and the Namek stepped in front of him, growling protectively.
The girl before him writhed on the ground, her left arm and leg bleeding profusely from two fresh cuts. "Oh my God!" she cried, slapping her hand over the gaping wound on her arm in an effort to stop the bleeding. The tears fell from her onxy eyes and she turned her sights on Piccolo. 'Daimaou?'
Piccolo watched her through narrowed eyes, watching the flames lick at her feet and the blood stream to the ground below. Gohan struggled to his feet and peaked around Piccolo's leg, taking in the sight before him. His mouth fell open as he watched the girl scream helplessly, the blood from her wounds blending in with the rising hot flames keeping her captive. The boy looked up at his mentor and realized that he was seeing the same thing, yet doing nothing in response.
"Mr. Piccolo, why are you just standing there?" he cried, his eyes darting back to the helpless girl before them.
"This female deserves this fate," was his sensei's cold reply.
Gohan's eyes widened and his little body shook with anger. 'Who deserves this kind of fate?' he thought, 'This isn't right… Even Freeza wouldn't deserve this.'
"Mr. Piccolo, sir, this is wrong! We have to help her!"
The demon lord whirled around, his cape snapping loudly over the crackling of the flames. "You have a problem with fitting punishment, boy? Then go home!"
Gohan took a step back in shock; Piccolo was acting exactly like he did when they first met. The cold glint in his eye was unmistakable.
"But Mr. Piccolo…"
But Piccolo had already turned his back on his little friend and continued to watch the girl before him shriek as the flames neared. Her onyx eyes filled with terror as she realized that the men before her were going to do nothing to help her.
Gohan closed his eyes, his rage mounting at an exponential rate. 'This isn't right!' He snarled and then shot into the air, drawing a surprised grunt from Piccolo and the girl within the fire ring. Pulling into a forward-flip, the little boy landed inside the ring before the girl. He turned around and faced the bewildered Piccolo.
"Help her now or I'm staying here!"
The girl stared wide-eyed at the little boy defending her life. Perhaps there was hope, although being saved by the green man before her could prove to be a fate worse than death and she knew it too.
The Namek snarled, "Don't be foolish, kid, get out of there right now!"
"No!" Gohan shouted back. "I won't!"
Piccolo's growled nearly shook the ground with its intensity, "You little brat!"
"Save us, Piccolo-san!" Gohan screamed, tears streaming down his cherubic cheeks.
The girl sat still, her mouth hanging open in shock. 'What is he doing? There's no way Daimaou is going to save me!'
The demon's lips pulled back into a demonic snarl, his fangs shimmering in the light of the fire. "You're gunna pay!" he shouted before leaping over the flames and grabbing both Gohan and the girl before the flames engulfed them both. The Namek leapt to safety and dropped Gohan and the girl on the ground none too gently before walking to stand against a tall tree on the perimeter of the field, his arms crossed across his broad chest. The girl stared at him in absolute stupefaction. 'I… I'm alive!'
Gohan breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew… Thank you for saving us, Piccolo-san!" The boy ran up to give his friend a hug, but met the Namek's moccasin face-first. He was punted a few feet behind the girl and landed with a dull thud.
The girl's head swiveled around as she stared wide-eyed at Gohan as he dusted himself off. "You could have killed him!" the girl shouted at the demon lord.
The green man's obsidian eyes flashed as he met hers, "You're one to talk about killing people, girl." His words dripped acid.
"Excuse me?" she hissed, her hands balling up into bony fists.
Gohan walked over to the female and put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, my teacher doesn't know what the heck he's talking about. I think I hit him in the head too many times today," he chuckled.
"Gohan, get away from that harpy! She's dangerous!"
The girl glared daggers at the Namek as he stormed over to his student and grasped the back of his white collar, dragging the boy back over to the tree he had been leaning against.
The girl on the ground shook with fury, "I'm dangerous? Just look at who shot me!" Her cheeks burned with outrage.
Gohan's eyes widened, "Oh no, Mr. Piccolo! She's bleeding cuz of your lasers!"
Piccolo's eyes never left the girl's, "Good. Maybe she'll bleed to death."
The girl narrowed her eyes at the Namek and the little boy gasped audibly, "How can you say that, Mr. Piccolo?"
The Namek's forehead resembled a map with all of the wrinkles and creases intersecting all over his green skin. The man was irritated beyond belief. "Gohan, this thing is dangerous."
The girl visibly flinched at the word "thing" and her eyes crinkled at the edges. 'He's gunna pay for that one…'
"But why?" the boy sighed.
"Because she's a murderer! She kills people!"
Gohan jumped back at Piccolo's harsh tone. "How do you know?"
"Because she tried to kill me once and she's gone on to kill several other human beings in cold blood. She's an assassin and it looks like she's met her final days. How appropriate that she should die before my eyes."
The little boy was silent and he shivered, whether it was from fear or cold, he wasn't certain.
The girl was ready to explode and tried her best to stand up. She managed to tower over her shaking legs. It became very clear that she was not just a girl, but a woman of at least twenty years. She was tall but very skinny; her tan skin made it clear that she had spent many days outside and the scars on her arms and legs proved she had experienced her fair share of violence. "I'm not going to die here, you bastard. And you're lucky I didn't kill you when we first met cuz it would have been a simple feat, you being such a cocky fool back then."
Piccolo snarled and clenched his fists at his sides.
"Look Daimaou, you wouldn't want me to die here, not after the embarrassment I put you through so many years ago," she smirked.
Gohan watched helplessly as the female and his teacher exchanged lethal looks.
"No," Piccolo conceded, "that would be too easy. I want you to suffer." He tackled the woman to the ground and began choking her.
"Mr. Piccolo!!" the little boy ran after his sensei and began beating on his back with his tiny fists. "Stop it, Mr. Piccolo!!"
"Not until she stops breathing!" he roared.
The girl's eyes were rolling up into the back of her head as Piccolo's powerful hands began squeezing the life out of her battered body. Her hands batted helplessly at his as her lungs screamed for air. She was losing her grip on reality. 'So, this is how it ends… Perhaps it's better this way…'
"Mr. Piccolo! She's bleeding!"
Piccolo wheeled around suddenly, "You think I don't know that?! You think I care?!"
"No!" Gohan shouted, "Look at her skirt!"
The demon's hands loosened their grip as he noticed the red stain growing on her long, beige skirt. 'What the hell? Did someone get to you before I did?'
The woman lay on the ground, Piccolo's hands still around her neck.
"There's something wrong with her, Mr. Piccolo!" Gohan was sobbing. "Please don't hurt her!"
The Namek took his hands from her throat and watched the woman curl into a ball, coughing and gasping for air. The red stain was growing on the back part of her skirt as well, even her long, black hair couldn't hide it. She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned aloud. 'Oh God… It started bleeding again… It hurts… It hurts…'
"What the hell is wrong with you, girl?" Piccolo snarled.
Tears fell from the woman's eyes as her coughing wracked her entire body. "I'm… really messed up…"
"I knew that already, but where is all this blood coming from?"
The woman's tan face suddenly lost all of its color and she stared off into space for several moments, lost in nightmarish flashbacks. The tight binds, his face, his hot breath on her skin, the guns, the knives… 'Oh my God, the knives…'
Piccolo would have thought her dead had her lungs not been expanding rhythmically. "I asked you a question…" he growled under his breath.
"You don't want to know…" the woman shuddered, breaking free of the hands of shock.
The demon snarled and snatched up the edge of her skirt in his large, green hand, determined to see who had gotten a one-up on him and what they had done to his victim.
"No!" she shrieked, "Not in front of the child!"
Piccolo's eyes widened for a moment and he turned to Gohan, "You hear that? Get out of here."
Gohan sniffled, "Don't kill her, sir…"
Piccolo closed his eyes and sighed, "Fine. She'll survive this encounter. I make no promises beyond that. Now go."
Gohan nodded and took off through the woods. The Namek watched him for a while before turning his eyes on the woman beneath him.
"Something's different about you, Daimaou… Who was that kid?"
The demon narrowed his eyes, "No one I ever want to see you around." He glared at her for a few minutes, her iron expression never changing. 'Stubborn bitch. Still the same after all these years.' He flipped her skirt up and looked down to find the source of the blood pooling beneath her. What he saw made him draw back and wretch into a nearby cotton bush. He gagged and dry heaved for what felt like hours. When he finally looked back up at the woman, her black eyes were shimmering like wet pebbles.
"Looks like I finally got what I deserved, eh Daimaou?" and she fell into unconsciousness.
The demon panicked. She was out cold and the blood wasn't stopping.
'What do I do?!' his thoughts rang out in his head.
'Take her to a hospital!' a familiar voice rang out from the depths of his mind.
'Nail…'
'Get her to a hospital quick! She's gunna die if you don't!'
'And why should I care?' Piccolo shot back.
'Because Gohan is right, this is just wrong! You're not that evil, Piccolo.'
'And if I am?' the demon smirked.
'Then I know that the demon blood in you craves more than this simple victory. You'd want to fight her, to win back that part of your ego she crushed so many years ago,' Nail sighed.
The Namek bent over the woman and gathered her in his arms. 'She owes her life and her subsequent suffering to you, boy.'
Piccolo smirked in satisfaction as he heard Nail sigh in the back of his mind. He took to the skies, headed for Capsule Corp.
Bulma answered the door, a scowl on her face as she swung it open. The scowl quickly faded when she realized who her visitor was, "Oh my God! Piccolo! What are you doing here?"
"I need you to take care of this…" he grumbled, shoving the bloody woman in Bulma's face.
"Oh!" Bulma's face paled, "Is this who I think it is?!"
"The one and only… So you can understand my reasons for bringing her here and not to a public hospital."
Bulma stepped aside and let Piccolo into her house, "Of course, but what are you doing with her?"
The Namek narrowed his eyes, "That's none of your concern. Just fix her."
The blue-haired woman rolled her eyes and walked down a narrow hall, "We'll take her to my lab and I'll call the company doctor and tell him to come over pronto!"
"You have your own doctor?" Piccolo gave Bulma a hard look.
"Of course I do! With all of this money, you think I wouldn't?"
Piccolo snorted and followed Bulma down a series of halls until they reached the right room. The door opened with a hiss as the two entered. Bulma's father was tinkering with some tools at his desk when Bulma and Piccolo walked in.
"Dad, call Dr. Brown quickly, we have an emergency!"
Dr. Briefs spun around in his swivel chair and nearly shouted at the sight of the woman Piccolo was carrying. He ran up to the Namek and gazed at her unconscious form. "Good God… Poor thing… I'll call the doctor right away! You two strip her down and start cleaning up her minor wounds."
Piccolo's eyes flew open and he was about to protest when Bulma ordered him to place the woman on the long, white table to his left. Before he could argue against stripping the woman the blue-haired genius had already begun removing her clothes. The demon got an eyeful of what had repulsed him so a few moments before and had to look away.
Bulma shrieked. "Piccolo! What happened?! She's so torn up down there!"
The Namek shuddered. "I don't know. She passed out before I could ask her."
The blue-haired woman hugged herself, "Who could do such a thing?"
"That's what I intend to find out…" Piccolo grumbled as he walked over to a nearby sink and began filling a small bowl with warm water.
Bulma flung open some cabinets and grabbed armfuls of towels and linens. "Here, we'll put these between her legs to stop the bleeding until the doctor gets here." The young woman walked around the table and positioned herself at the victim's business end. Before she began her work, she got a better look at the damage the woman's privates had sustained.
"Oh my God…" she whispered. "There are threads sticking out of her skin! Someone sewed her shut down there!"
Piccolo shuddered involuntarily and dismissed the repulsive thoughts invading his mind with a callous remark:
"She's just an assassin, what's the big damn deal anyway?" the Namek snorted.
Bulma's unfocused eyes turned on the green man, "Just an assassin? Do you even know what she's fighting for?" Her ocean-blue eyes narrowed as she stuffed towels between the victim's legs.
Piccolo felt uncomfortable with Bulma's eyes on him and just kept quiet, pouring warm water over the prone woman's smaller cuts and scrapes.
"She's fighting for women's rights all over the world. She's taken out big players in the sex trade and has made drastic efforts to stop practices like female genital mutilation…" Bulma's voice broke up on that last word.
The Namek didn't dare look down the table. "Well, she tried to kill me once."
The blue-haired woman's eyes focused and she glared at him, "Well, what did you do to her?!"
"I didn't do anything! It was my father who slaughtered her family, not me. I ran into her once and she took a chunk out of my neck with a damn machete!" Piccolo craned his head to the left, revealing a fat scar that snaked around the side of his neck.
Bulma frowned. "That makes no sense. Why would she want you dead if your father took her family away from her?"
Piccolo snorted, "Good question."
The door to the lab hissed open and Dr. Briefs entered with Dr. Brown a few feet behind. Bulma approached the youthful doctor and fixed him with a hard stare. "If you have any idea who this woman is, you'll understand my reason for calling you here. All of this is to be kept confidential and if I even suspect that you're leaking information, I'll see to it that you never work in this town again! Understood?!"
Dr. Briefs stared at his daughter in shock and then smiled at the dazed Piccolo, "That's my daughter."
The doctor swore absolute confidentiality and professionalism and then asked Bulma, Dr. Briefs, and Piccolo to leave the room. The trio walked into the large living room. Bulma and her father took a seat on the black leather couch and Piccolo walked over to a window facing the backyard. He stared into the glass for what felt like hours before his reflection blurred and he saw himself several years younger at the Tenkaichi Budoukai…
He was standing in line on a particularly hot summer day, waiting to purchase a ticket from the ticket booth, and by purchase the young demon meant only to threaten the poor human selling them into giving him one for free, when he heard several voices begin shouting above the normal chaos of the tournament. He thought nothing of it and continued fantasizing about seeing Son Goku in person for the first time. Would Son be as strong and terrible as his father had found him to be? Or would Demon Junior find him a grave disappointment, not even a challenge to his newfound powers?
'All will be revealed in time…' he mused, taking another step forward as another human purchased their ticket and left.
A loud, female voice shrieked and the demon growled, his ears ringing with the sudden pain. He turned his stone cold eyes in the direction of his ears' attacker and glared at the woman before him. Her onyx eyes pierced into his own, her dark-chocolate curls drawing him into their depths. The blush on her cheeks was one of fury and they burned an obscene red from beneath her tanned skin.
Policemen surrounded her, restraining her and pulling her backward through the crowd. The demon watched her in her helpless struggle against their brute force.
'Feh. She's gunna get herself killed.'
The woman screamed again, but this time she managed to pull one of her arms free. Piccolo watched in shock as she elbowed one of the policemen in the nose with such force that she drew crimson ribbons as her prize. The other policemen jumped back in shock. That was all she needed. Her body lunged forward and her hand slipped beneath the hem of her long, flowing skirt. That same hand returned to the surface with a large, sharp machete, which she held high as she advanced toward the Namek, a demonic grin on her face.
"Muera, pinche Daimaou!" she had shouted at him as she advanced.
The people around the young demon fled, screaming and shouting in fear. Piccolo did not understand most of what she shouted at him but he did recognize the name of his sire and, in his ignorance, he turned his head, half expecting to see his father behind him. The man who had died at the hands of Son Goku. The man who sired him. The man whose memories haunted him day in and day out.
He could hear the sound of the taut muscles in his neck snapping as the blade bit into his flesh. The shock of the cold metal in his body pulled him out of his delirium and he glanced down in horror at the machete embedded in his thick neck.
The woman in front of him fell to his feet, about eight police officers having tackled her to the ground. They picked her up and began dragging her toward a patrol car, keeping their fearful eyes on him as well. The woman kicked and screamed in fury, nearly foaming at the mouth.
"Mi trabajo!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Mi trabajo no esta finito!"
Piccolo had watched her until the patrol car was driven out of sight before he wrenched the machete free and flew off into the desert.
"Piccolo?" Bulma's voice snapped him back into reality and he found himself staring at his own reflection.
"Uh?"
The blue-haired woman walked closer to him. "The doctor's here. He's done…"
"Oh…"
Bulma gave the Namek a funny look. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine… just a little out of it. How long have I been standing here?"
"God… A couple hours."
Piccolo's eyes flew open. 'Holy crap… What the hell is wrong with me?'
Dr. Brown entered the living room with his head bowed, "Don't worry, she's stable."
Bulma and her father sighed aloud at the news.
The doctor continued, "I've stopped the bleeding and stitched up the major wounds on her arms and legs. I managed to remove the stitches from her vagina and took a look inside. She's torn up real bad… I don't even know if reconstructive surgery will be of much help. The damage that was done to her vaginal canal is unlike anything I've ever seen before… There's major trauma all the way up to her cervix and even there she has some major gashes. My biggest fear is that any scabbing or resulting scar tissue could block the cervical os and cause her severe problems during menstruation…"
Piccolo rubbed his forehead, 'This is so beyond me… I feel so useless right now…'
Nail chuckled from the depths of his mind, 'Don't worry, Piccolo, it's not as complicated as cocky, young doctors like to make it sound. From what this guy is saying… they may have to do a lot of surgery to fix her up or she may just opt to have her reproductive organs removed entirely.'
'Oh…'
'Does that help?'
'No, not really…' Piccolo sighed.
'Okay, well, if she undergoes surgery again and again, she's gunna be in a lot of pain for a long time, but she'll eventually get better and be able to use that part of her body again. If not, she's gunna have a lot of problems and to avoid these problems she may want to have some of those damaged parts of her body removed.'
'I see…' the demon shuddered as the image of the woman's "damaged parts" flashed across his memory. He shook his head to clear his mind and focused in on the conversation between the doctor and Bulma.
"I gave her a tetanus shot and applied a local anesthetic to help her with the pain… Continue to apply this medical cream so that the tissues won't begin growing together and to avoid the possibility of toxic shock syndrome; it's pretty common in really bad rape cases and I see this being no different. I'll stop by in the morning and we'll see how she's doing. If she's awake, we'll tell her her options."
Bulma bowed deeply, "Thank you so much… but just remember," she lifted her head and glared. "Not one word about this to anyone!"
The doctor nodded and saw himself out. Bulma let out a huge sigh of relief and plopped down on the sofa. "Thank God."
Piccolo snorted and started walking toward the lab. The blue-haired woman was obscuring his path within the blink of an eye. "What do you want, woman?"
"I should ask you the same question, Piccolo…"
"I just want to check on her, that's all," he closed his eyes, trying his best to control his mounting rage at Bulma's interference.
"You sure that's all? I'd think you'd have a score to settle with this woman for attacking you before…"
The Namek's large frame trembled, "Move it or I'll blast you out of my way!"
Bulma gasped and flattened against the wall to her right. Piccolo stormed on past, barely hearing her mutter, "Same old demon lord…" as he walked away from her.
'That was low…' Nail admitted.
'Shut up, Nail, what does she know anyway?'
'After all you've done for them too! You're not that bad… People need to learn to trust more---"
'SHUT UP, NAIL!' Piccolo grit his teeth and slammed the lab door open.
The woman's prone body lay on the long, white table, a single white sheet covering her. Large machines beeped and needles scribbled on graph paper, collecting data Piccolo could not even begin to understand. Tubes extended from these machines and hanging liquid filled bags and disappeared under the white sheet. There was a small mask over the woman's nose and mouth providing her with much needed oxygen. The Namek walked over to the table and leaned closer. The scrapes on her face and arms were all but gone and the dirt that had caked her soft features had been washed away. He noticed the long, snaking row of stitches on her left arm and recognized it immediately…
'Oops…'
'She looks a lot better,' said Nail.
'Yeah.'
'This was the right thing to do.'
Piccolo snorted, 'Now I'll get a fair fight!'
'Sure Piccolo…' If Nail had eyes he would have been rolling them.
'Why is she still on this table?' the demon grunted. 'Shouldn't she be resting in a bed?'
'The doctor was probably afraid to move her. I mean, she was pretty banged up; he was probably more concerned about getting her stable and keeping her that way. He'll be here in the morning, I'm sure he'll move her then,' Nail chirped.
'Right. I think he was just too lazy. Damn humans… no one gives a shit about anyone on this planet,' he growled.
'Don't see why you care,' Nail admonished.
'I don't. I just think things like this really go to show just how fucked up this whole world is…' The demon squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the bad memories from his childhood out of his consciousness. No use in giving Nail any ammo to throw at him later.
The door to the lab hissed open and the Namek set his sights on a nervous Bulma. He groaned inwardly. "I'm not going to kill her."
"Okay…" She was hesitant. Who wouldn't be after the way he threatened her out in the hallway?
Piccolo took one more look at the sleeping woman and headed for the door. The blue-haired woman flattened up against the wall to make room for him. He passed her and stopped suddenly, "I'll be in the living room… Tell me when she wakes up."
Bulma nodded with a gulp before Piccolo turned the corner and was out of sight. The woman sighed and gave the assassin lying on the table a sympathetic smile, 'I hope surviving this attack isn't worse than death would have been for you, Chica…' Her shoulders slumped forward on another sigh and she turned toward the lab door, ready for a good night's rest.
The woman awoke several hours later.
Her vision was horribly blurred and she blinked several times before gazing into the blackness of the room she was in.
'Where am I?'
The beeping of the IV machine beside the table startled her and she shivered under the sheet. Everything around her was so incredibly foreign.
'Is anyone here?' she wondered.
An image from the night before flashed through her mind and she shuddered. The skin on her wrists and ankles felt cold… The woman squeezed her eyes shut to dismiss the invading thoughts. She tried to lift her head and groaned at the effort it took. A sharp pain shot down her back and she dropped her head back onto the table. 'No good… I'm still really messed up. God…' She frowned suddenly, 'Well, I'm obviously not going anywhere at this rate so I might as well get someone's attention.'
She grasped the oxygen mask on her face and pulled it down. "Fire!" she screamed, "FIRE! Fuego! FUEGO!"
The lights in the lab glared to life as Piccolo burst into the room, his eyes wide, "Where? Where?!"
The woman shrieked and tried to pull the sheet over her head. The pain in her left arm was too much and she cried out helplessly, "Daimaou!"
Piccolo spun around, "Where?!"
Against the protests of her body, the woman grasped the edge of a clean tray of doctor's instruments beside the table and threw it at the Namek. There was a loud smack as the tray smashed into Piccolo's forehead and the instruments went flying in different directions, a couple scratching his skin in the process. The woman snarled, "Don't play dumb, Daimaou!" Her hand reached out and grasped at the air. There was nothing left within reach for her to throw. "Aye! Dammit!"
Piccolo gave her an odd look, "What's wrong?"
"I need something to throw at your stupid head!" she growled, her face red with frustration.
"Hey calm down, I'm the one who wants you dead, remember? You should be afraid of me!" His eyes narrowed.
"Afraid of Daimaou? Hah! Pinche---" She stopped suddenly. "Wait… Why are you here and where am I?"
"I took you to Capsule Corp."
The woman's eyes flew wide open, "Doesn't Bulma Briefs run Capsule Corp?"
"Sadly yes…" Piccolo sighed. "But she was the one who got a doctor to help you out."
"Really?" The woman's eyes were as round as saucers. "That woman is amazing!"
"That's not what I'd call her," Piccolo smirked.
"So, I'm at Capsule Corp?"
"Yes," Piccolo confirmed. "And I'm here because I have some questions for you to answer before I kill you."
"Shut up, Daimaou, you're not asking me anything until I get all of my questions answered and until I feel better," she snapped, her onyx eyes threatening war.
"You little…"
"You said a doctor came to help me… What did he look like? Did you tell him my name? Does he know me? Did he look Mexican?"
Piccolo stumbled back as the woman fired question after question at him, "Dammit woman, I don't know! Bulma threatened him to secrecy so I doubt word about you will get around very fast. Take it easy."
The tan-skinned woman shrank back under the sheet, "This is not good. I have to go."
The Namek choked on his own tongue. "What?!"
"I'm gunna be in big trouble."
"Hey, you're safe here! This is Capsule Corp! Stop worrying about the future, I can assure you that you're in far more danger right now than you were before I came in here."
The woman gave him an icy glare.
"What's your name anyway, woman?" he inquired.
"What's it to you?" she shot back.
"I wanna know what to carve on your gravestone after I've settled things with you," he smirked.
"Please…" she snorted. "And the name's Chica Alvarez. Learn it well."
The Namek smirked again, "I'll be sure to do that."
"So what did this pinche doctor say about me?" Chica frowned.
"I didn't understand all of the details but basically you have two choices… a lot of surgery to try to fix you up…" Piccolo glanced balefully at her lower body and then fixed his eyes on the floor. "Or you can have some of those messed up parts removed."
Chica was silent for a long while and the demon shifted his weight from foot to foot. "That doesn't tell me much… but I don't like the sound of the first option. I need to get out of here as soon as possible."
"I heard that if you don't do the first option, you'll have lots of problems and shit," he snorted.
"That's true… This is so confusing…"
"The doctor's coming back in the morning, you can ask your questions then. Until then, you should rest; you'll want to save your strength for when I come to put an end to your life later."
Chica narrowed her eyes at Piccolo, "We'll see, pinche Daimaou…"
The Namek snickered as he walked out the door and turned out the lights, plunging Chica into a world of darkness and nightmares. 'I hope the morning gets here soon…' she shivered under the sheet, thinking little of the table she rested on.
Morning came and the lights in the lab came to life as Dr. Brown, Bulma, Dr. Briefs, and Piccolo entered. Chica was rudely awoken from her slumber by the bright lights shinning down on her face.
"Que?"
Bulma leaned down into the woman's face, "Good morning, Chica!"
Chica's eyes widened considerably, "Dios mio! Bulma Briefs?"
"The one and only!" the blue-haired vixen grinned.
"I cannot thank you enough for taking care of me. I hope I have not been a burden to you."
"Not at all. Piccolo told me you woke up last night and started crying for help. Sorry I wasn't there. I was on the third floor sleeping and couldn't hear you. I hope he didn't give you too hard a time; I know you two have quite the history together!" Bulma giggled.
Chica frowned. "He was fine."
Bulma stepped aside and Dr. Brown approached the woman on the table, a white clipboard in his hand. "Okay, Ms. Alvarez, I've discussed your condition with a few colleagues and---"
"You did not tell them about me, did you?" Chica shrieked.
"Ms. Alvarez, all of your personal information is kept confidential." When Chica had visibly calmed, he continued, "Now, Ms. Briefs has offered to cover all of your expenses so cost shouldn't matter to you when you consider the following options. My colleagues and I strongly recommend you undergo reconstructive surgery to repair all of the damage you've sustained."
"How long does this surgery take?" she asked.
"Depending on just how extensive the damage is and how quickly you heal, we may have a series of surgeries done two to three weeks apart---"
"That is too long. I need to get out of here as soon as possible," Chica sighed.
Dr. Brown frowned, "If you don't undergo reconstructive surgery, you will experience many complications."
"What else can you do for me?"
"We can let you heal naturally with the use of some topical creams, but we cannot guarantee that you will heal normally. Some of your vaginal tissues may grow together or the resulting scars could disrupt your menstrual flow. There's always the risk of pelvic inflammatory disease and toxic shock syndrome. If time is really that important, we can remove your uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries in one surgery and let your vaginal canal heal by itself; there would be fewer menstrual complications that way."
Piccolo had zoned out again.
"My yew-ter-us?" Chica was horribly confused.
"Yeah," Dr. Brown rolled his eyes, "you know, your reproductive organs? Where a baby grows?"
Chica glared at the doctor, who had dissolved into baby talk to help her understand. 'Pinche gringo… Just because I don't know about my body doesn't mean I'm stupid…'
"I want to be able to have a baby…" Chica growled.
Dr. Brown's eyes flew wide open, "Are you serious? The kind of woman you are, I don't think it would be advisable for you to even consider the possibility of parenthood."
"QUE?!" Chica's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "What did you say, gringo?!"
Bulma stalked toward the doctor, "Hey Doc, if we want your personal opinion regarding Chica, we'll ask for it!"
Chica's eyes stung with tears of outrage. 'Who is he to judge me?!'
The Namek had come back down to Earth just in time to hear the harsh comments fly out of the doctor's mouth. 'What the hell?'
"I want to have a baby, gringo, and you will shut your mouth before I kill you!" Chica screamed.
"Fine, then undergo reconstructive surgery," he scoffed.
"I CAN'T!" Chica cried in frustration.
"Then go without any kind of surgery and see what happens. We doctors call that hopeful waiting. If it works, it works; if not, well…"
Chica trembled beneath her sheet. 'What choice do I have? What they did to me the night before last… they may have already destroyed my chances of ever being able to have a baby… And maybe this gringo is right… maybe I shouldn't have a child… My life is so dangerous. I wouldn't want my baby to be in danger… or to have to live without me if I should be killed some day.' She clenched her teeth. 'My work is too dangerous… I can't endanger an innocent child for my own selfish reasons…'
"Okay," she breathed, "take out the organs. It's okay if I don't have a baby."
Bulma gasped and shoved Dr. Brown aside. She took Chica's hands in her own and gazed into the woman's sad, onyx eyes, "Are you sure about this, Chica? You should give it more thought."
"I said it's okay…"
The blue-haired woman sighed, "Give it a day. If you wake up tomorrow and still think it's the best option, then go for it. Please, give this some time, Chica; once the surgery is over, there's no going back."
Chica nodded. "Okay, I'll wait."
Dr. Brown went about Chica's physical after Piccolo and Dr. Briefs left the room. Bulma stayed to make sure the doctor didn't give the poor woman a hard time. The young man checked her pulse, listened to her heart and her lungs; he checked on her stitches and applied more cream to her shredded vaginal canal. He made sure the IV needles were working properly and emptied the urine bag that hung off to the side before reattaching it to the tube stuck in Chica's urethra.
"Dr. Brown, I've gotten the guest room ready for Chica. Perhaps we can move her there," Bulma suggested.
"What's wrong with the table?"
The blue-haired woman gave him a puzzled look. "Chica's gunna be on that IV machine for a couple days at least and she needs time to think about her decision. I doubt she wants to lie on a table for days on end."
The doctor chuckled softly, "Ah Bulma, you're so soft-hearted. This table is probably a luxury bed to Ms. Alvarez."
"WHAT?!" Bulma shouted, echoing Chica's high-pitched "QUE?!"
"I've had enough of this insulting, little gringo!" Chica shrieked. "Get him out of here! I don't want a surgery from him! I don't want anything from this bastard!"
Dr. Brown snarled, "You should be thankful you're even getting this kind of service---"
Chica spat in his face, "Your service is shit to me! When you treat me like I'm some kind of wet-back, that's when I stop caring about how great your service is! When I get better, I swear I'm going to kill you!"
Piccolo barged into the lab, "What's going on here?"
Dr. Brief's stumbled after the angry Namek, "Y-Yeah, what's with all the shouting?"
Chica's face burned scarlet, reminding Piccolo of that day at the Tenkaichi Budoukia. "Get this racist bastard out of my face!!!"
The Namek snarled at the doctor, who spun around at the sudden outburst. His face grew pale and he dashed out the lab door. A few seconds later Bulma, Chica, Piccolo, and Dr. Briefs heard the front door slam.
The woman on the table was sitting up, the sheet barely covering her rear. Her shoulders were slumped forward and trembled slightly. Bulma walked over to her. "I'm so sorry, Chica. That guy is so fired; don't you even worry. We'll talk to one of his colleagues and get them to help us out. I'm sure there's at least one doctor among them who's mature enough to treat someone as amazing as you."
A tear slipped past Chica's charcoal eyes and she gasped. The last time she cried, she had been in a lot more pain than this. 'So why do I cry now?'
Bulma wrapped her arms around the broken woman and held her for a few moments.
Piccolo and Dr. Briefs shifted uneasily.
'Well, this is awkward,' Piccolo complained.
Nail sighed, 'I guess you were right about that doctor, Piccolo. I can't even believe what just went on…'
'I told you,' the demon lord snorted. 'Humans treat each other like shit.'
The blue-haired woman walked over to Piccolo and stopped in front of his towering frame, "Piccolo, could you please carry Chica?"
"WHAT?!" The tall Namek nearly fell over.
"Please Piccolo, we should get her into the guest room so she'll be more comfortable and my dad's getting too old to lift---"
Dr. Briefs puffed up his chest and snorted, "I'm not getting to old for anything, my dear. I just prefer to observe and make sure nothing goes wrong. Besides, Piccolo here looks like he could use the work-out." The doctor grinned at the baffled Namek.
'He's gunna get it for that one…' the demon snarled.
'Aw, c'mon Pic, just do it,' Nail sighed.
Piccolo growled and stalked toward Chica. The woman tensed as he neared and shot him a dirty look. "Stay away from me, Daimaou!"
The Namek sighed, "Fine. You can stay on this table for all I care."
"Please trust him, Chica; just this once!" Bulma pleaded.
Piccolo reached forward. "You're lucky I'm actually doing this."
Chica growled, "You're lucky I haven't ripped your eyes out!" She was quiet a minute. "Fine, but give me a minute to adjust this sheet. I don't need you taking advantage of my naked body."
"Don't flatter yourself!" Piccolo snapped.
Chica closed her eyes as she sunk into the soft covers on her new bed. "This is nice…"
Bulma smiled at her and Piccolo rolled his eyes, thankful that he didn't have to carry Chica for too long. The blue-haired woman jumped as her stomach growled. "Well! I think that's a sign that breakfast needs to be made. I'll be right back you guys, don't kill each other while I'm gone!" And she exited out the door, heading toward the kitchen.
The woman shifted uncomfortably under the covers. "I wish I had some clothes…"
Piccolo just snorted and walked over to the window, gazing at the garden outside.
"Well, um, thanks for carrying me…" Chica whispered.
"Whatever."
"Hey, what's your problem, Daimaou? You have such an attitude! If I were you, I'd be a little more respectful to the person who plans on killing you!"
Piccolo turned around, a fierce glare on his handsome features. "You really think you can kill me?"
"Yes, I do!" Chica shouted.
The Namek snickered darkly before extending his arm and shooting a small ki blast at the wall directly across from him. Chica jumped and gasped in shock at the amount of plaster that Piccolo had just blown away.
"You see that?" he purred. "That could have been your head."
The woman frowned, "I see you're not as weak as you used to be."
"So where's your machete now, woman?" His eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth drew up into a sardonic smirk.
Chica's eyes flashed. "I will kill you somehow, Daimaou… What you did to my family---"
"Your family?"
"YES!" the woman screamed. "For what you did to my family, you will pay me back in blood!"
"I didn't do shit to your family!" the demon snarled.
"You're lying! You think I would forget that terrible face of yours after all of these years? Mentiroso!"
"You're mistaken woman… The person who killed your family was my father--not me."
Chica's eyes flew wide open.
"I am the only surviving son of King Piccolo. Funny that you were calling me 'Daimaou,' most call me 'Majunia' or 'Piccolo.'"
The demon lord kept his eyes on Chica, whose face was entirely pale.
'What the hell is wrong with her?' he snapped at Nail.
'I think she just made a big mistake…'
"You… You're the son of the man who killed my family?" Her words came out slowly, working past the sudden dryness of her mouth.
"Yes, I am. When my father died, he passed down all of his memories to me. I have all of his memories in my head and that one is definitely not one that I created in my lifetime."
Chica shook her head, "This has to be some terrible mistake. Where is your father?"
"Dead. You're 14 years too late." Piccolo shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest.
"But… How?!" Chica cried.
"Son Goku killed him."
"So the first time we met… your father was already dead?" Her eyes were blank, emotionless.
"Yes."
'I attacked the wrong person…' she shivered at the thought. 'I attacked an innocent person… one who clearly has the power to kill me if he so chooses. Dios mio…' "I-I don't know what to say, Pikoro…"
The demon cringed at the way she pronounced his name. "Save it. Your vendetta may be over, but mine isn't. When you get better, your ass is mine."
And he turned and marched out the door, his white cape fluttering behind him.
Translations!!!
"Por favor, senor, no dice nada…" means "Please, sir, don't say anything…"
"Muera, pinche Daimaou!" means "Die, fucking Daimaou!"
"Mi trabajo!… Mi trabajo no esta finito!" means "My work!… My work is not done!"
"…Fuego! FUEGO!" means "…Fire! FIRE!"
"Pinche---" is essentially the f-word in English, but in this context it would have read "Fucking---"
"Dios mio!" means "Oh my God!"
"Que?" means "What?"
A "gringo" is a white male. GringA would be a white female.
"Mentiroso!" means "Liar!"
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!!