A/N: This has been floating around in my head for a few days. If there's feedback, I might continue it. Otherwise it's just a one shot.
Pairings: Canon except Goku/Pan.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.
Rating: M for suggested content.
-MalRev
Shatter
Falling asleep was my least favorite necessity of life.
When I was very young, three or four, I could vaguely remember consistently falling asleep on my father's lap while he and my mother watched television in the living room. The flickering light soothed me into my dreams, along with the gentle fingers threading through my hair. Neither of them minded me snoozing on the couch with them because it was a part of growing up. They knew I'd be afraid of the dark for a while and were prepared to see me through my childish fear.
Dad would scoop me up in his lean arms to deposit me in bed when mom started dozing off on his shoulder. He would try to turn the light off sometimes, but I'd plead with him to leave it on. In my young mind, light banished all forms of evil. They couldn't penetrate the calming barrier of a glowing light bulb. My entire room would be bathed in light, severely disturbing my sleep cycles. But I didn't care.
I remember when the visits started.
My grandfather was a kind man who upheld peace in the entire galaxy, maybe even the universe. It was a concept my little mind had difficulty grasping. He was always out training and having fun instead of tending to his family, which wrenched them apart in the end. The night he and my grandmother finally split up, I heard a soft tapping on my bedroom window. I blearily blinked and smiled when I saw him. He always made things more fun. We'd sneak out and spar late at night, or go get food. I loved him.
That was how things started out. He would put me on his back and we'd fly off into the night to explore. The realization of what was happening didn't dawn upon my parents until it was far too late for them to save their precious Pan. They cried in different rooms. I didn't know why.
Grandpa brought me to a toy store and let me pick out whatever I wanted. Even my dad wouldn't grant me such a high honor. So I would spend the afternoon filling up a cart with toys with my childish chaperone, who was more interested in playing with what I brought home than even I was. We would sit in my room for hours, playing make-believe and watching TV. I loved him.
He came a nightmare soon enough.
"Pan, want to play a new game?" he asked. His voice is hollow in my memory; I can barely force my traumatized mind into remembering such things.
"Yes! What this time, grandpa?"
He couldn't resist until I was older. No, he wanted me in the single digits. I was an innocent fucking child and he was more than happy to take that away from me. Everything was a lie. Thinking of sitting in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck when he came to visit made me sick to my stomach. And they all just watched him tenderly leading me down a dark, horrific path. The world's savior was a monster.
My own flesh and blood took his time when I excitedly agreed to play his disgusting game. He easily hoisted me up on my bed and laid me down on my back like I was some kind of plaything. It was too much for my young mind. When he reached down my pajama pants, my favorite pair he had bought me that had cute puppies printed all over it, I froze in shock. It felt so wrong. I loved him.
When I told him I didn't like what was happening, he reminded me of all the wonderful toys and gifts he had purchased, immediately shutting me up. I didn't want to be ungrateful. Mom and dad taught me to respect people and be thankful for whatever they offered me. But I was too young to know the difference between being polite and being violated. So I did everything he asked without question. I followed orders like a good girl. If he wanted to be in my mouth, I opened as wide as I could.
Sometimes he would cry after he was finished with me and I was cleaning myself up. It broke my heart to see such a powerful man hunched in a dark corner with his face hidden, trembling violently with the ferocity of his tears. When I tried to hug him, he would shove me away and apologize. Everyone always said he acted a lot like a little kid. That was why he got along so well with me and my friends. But he liked me the most. He was my grandpa, after all.
Another night of endless humiliation would pass. And another. And another. He would lose his drive to visit and leave me for weeks at a time, just to come back with pent-up frustration to fuel his horrible desires. The older I grew, the less interested in me he became. My body was big enough to be penetrated but he liked when I was smaller. Still, it meant he could put the final nail in the coffin.
When I turned ten, he visited me on last time to perform the ultimate disgrace. His hands shook with a mixture of excitement and revulsion as he took off my clothes to expose my still prepubescent body. I knew what we were doing was wrong deep in my heart. He towered over me and easily held me down with one arm to cover my mouth when I screamed. My body wasn't ready yet. He was too big and I was much too small. But he pushed on and nearly tore me in half.
"I love you, Pan," he whispered, stroking my hair while I cried.
Blood pooled between my legs.
I loved him.
My parents left to kill him when they found me the next morning, but he was long gone. Off to train in an alternate universe, leaving a mess behind as usual. He always acted like a kid.
