AN: Thank you to all my reviewers. Glad you like it. And yeah, all of the speakers are going to remain nameless, though some of them, like this current one, will represent nameless characters that appeared in the anime. I've left hints; see if you can figure out which one this is. So, enjoy.
Silent Prayer
I'm always the first to react when you are brought in to us, heavily wounded. I don't think you notice it then, too focused on controlling your pain. But you notice me afterwards, don't you, Vegeta. I always stick around when you are recovering; you are the only one who receives this kind of beside manner from me. You may not know that the treatment I give you is special, but you do consistently recognize me; I'm the only medic in the entire base you call 'Doc'. Everyone else is the detached 'Doctor', or the disrespectful 'Hey, You'.
But right now you are a mess, dripping copious amounts of blood, limbs skewed, indicating many broken bones. And yet you still thrash, hiss, and spit like a cornered animal, too delirious from blood loss to realize that we are trying to help you. But your wounds are so severe and your joints so swollen that we need to cut you out of your uniform, and that only makes it worse for you, makes you see it as a far more serious assault. It's always the same with you, isn't it, Vegeta. Too proud to accept help that isn't forced on you. But we go through the motions anyway. Do you know how many new protocols were created just because of you?
Eventually we get you sedated and in the tank without causing you—or us—any further damage. And now comes the part that no one sees, after the rejuvenation process begins and all the other medics move on to other things because I have agreed to monitor you, just like I always do. Now when we are alone in the sterile, darkened chamber, I get on my knees before you and pray.
Proud, paranoid creature that you are, you'd probably take my piety the wrong way, wouldn't you, Vegeta? You'd surely think it was out of pity, but I assure you, it's not. I'm not praying for your recovery or for the salvation of your soul, I am praying for your people's legends to be real; The Super Saiyan—yes, I've heard the talk, people tend to speak as freely in front of medics as they do in front of servants, not realizing that we take in everything.
You Saiyans are not the only ones who Frieza's enslaved. You're not the only ones who need him gone. But unlike the rest of us, it was only your kind that was enslaved and slaughtered out of fear, rather than just because you were there. Yes, Vegeta, he fears you, it's obvious to anyone who knows the signs; the way he pays such close attention to your medical records, the way he always asks for recalculations of your potential (such a fun equation that is, I'm sure you and your men play around with it all the time), the way he keeps you on such a short leash. He fears you, specifically he fears what you may become if left unchecked. Super Saiyan. And I probably want you to achieve that more than you want it for yourself.
And that is why I pray to you, Vegeta. I pray for you to find the power you need to destroy Frieza once and for all. If there truly is a god—my faith was all but dead before I met you and heard the whispers, a silver talisman of a mobius band, one that I now press to my leathery beak, all that is left of my religion—then he would truly be benevolent to grant us both what we seek. But otherwise I am nothing, a weak medic, and all I can do to help you on your journey is keep you alive and pray for your success. So that is what I will do.
And he would eventually live to see Frieza destroyed. But he never learned the truth of how it happened, and he lived the rest of his days believing that Vegeta had finally done it. And they would never cross paths again.