Shavneral

Chapter 10 – Kakarot

~A sharp bang kick-started my heartbeat, the odor of adrenaline and the salt of sweat making my blood burn and race. With a muted thunder of paws, a jet black wolf rocketed towards me, slavering jaws parted, amber eyes and pale teeth flashing. I held my stance, dodging to the left as it sprang at me, leaping across its shaggy shoulders and dodging glinting fangs as I delivered a brutal punch to its ribs. The wolf yelped in pain, then rounded on me with a snarl, hackles bristling. It pounced again, and I ducked, its claws grazed my spine, but I was able to kick it hard in the stomach, and it landed slightly unsteadily, still growling savagely. Its paws kicked up dust as it leapt at me, and I tried to evade it again, but I wasn't fast enough. I felt the unforgiving steel trap that was its jaws close around my thumb, missing my entire hand by less than an inch. Teeth clamped down and I stifled a scream of pain as the first digit of my left thumb was severed completely. I wrenched my hand from its grip before the animal could mangle it anymore, grimacing at the blood snaking down my wrist to rest in the belly of my elbow. With a snarl that rumbled from my chest, I attacked the wolf, grappling with its flailing paws and kicking its legs out from under it. I braced one arm against its throat as I pinned it to the ground. The creature struggled, snapping its jaws and trying to force me off of it with its frantically kicking legs. Almost lazily, I took its lower jaw in my undamaged hand, feeling the joint beneath my fingers. Baring my teeth, I wrenched my hand to the side, hearing the crack as I broke the animal's jaw. The wolf let out a pitiful wail, blood spurting from its distorted mouth as I delivered the final blow to its chest with my foot, killing it instantly; refusing to let the beast suffer a slow death.

I looked up, confused, as the scenery flooded to black. Suddenly I was in a completely different place. A room I barely recognized, and I saw... myself. He... well, I... had my hands braced against a wall, and I was screaming in agony as a man lashed a whip into my amazingly unmarked spine, carving startlingly bright red lines into the flesh. Except I wasn't me. I was watching from the outside somehow. The apparition that was me was gritting out curses between lashes, attempting to attack my tormentors and shouting vulgarities and threats as the vile whip crossed and recrossed the new and now bleeding cuts and slashes that made my back look like ground meat. For a moment, the person that was me's hair flashed gold, but another slash of the whip turned it back to black as I howled in measureless pain, spine buckling under the abuse. The scenery was blurring now, but I could still hear the sickening flick of blood and flayed skin as the whip mutilated my body. And now I could feel the agony, the torment that was so great I could barely stand it, and as the scene flickered black I had to wonder what it was that I had just seen.~

X

I awoke, and was surprised to find that I had slept. I could hardly remember the dreams, but the fact that I had dreamed at all was confusing. I had scarcely dreamt since my first night after being rescued from Shavneral.

A few days had passed since that day, and I hadn't left the room at Capsule Corp that I had been given. I hadn't seen any people at all except Vegeta, and even then, he didn't talk directly to me much.

I remember how wary I'd been when he first brought me food. I refused to eat the first two days, but eventually my hunger got the best of me and for once I accepted what he brought me. Now he always left a tray of food outside my door in the morning, knowing I'd either take it or I wouldn't, either way I wouldn't eat in his presence. Sometimes he would sit on the other side of my door and talk. He didn't expect me to respond or even listen; and usually I didn't, but sometimes I sat against the door and listened to him converse to no one in particular, recounting the past and musing about the future, or just commenting on the weather. I felt the most sane when I listened to him talk, with only the few solid inches of wood separating us. But every time he tried to push his boundaries; every time he opened the door a crack when he talked or tried to bring me my food instead of just leaving it where I could find it on my own, I would withdraw; and I wouldn't eat or listen to him talk through the door for a few days afterward until the air was safe again.

At night, I berated myself relentlessly. I'd never hated myself more than I did in the hours preceding my restless sleep. I called myself a coward under my breath as I sat there in the closet – refusing the bed even after Vegeta had convinced me to sit on it once. I called myself a selfish idiot and much worse as I thought of my past at Shavneral and my uncertain future here. I didn't know when the fear would go away; maybe it never would, but until it did or at least subsided, I couldn't think of myself with anything but contempt.

And then there were these dreams tonight. Details were hard to recall, but I remembered the first one being a memory of when I lost the tip of my thumb to a wolf. A very vivid memory, but one I could remember relatively easily. The second dream gave me more pause, though. If I hadn't been looking at someone who was exactly like me, I would have said it had never happened. I remembered being whipped daily while in that prison, but that dream... it seemed to take place before I'd ever been whipped before. There were no previous scars on my back besides the ones being lashed into it. And about the part where my hair had changed color... I remembered Vegeta's doing the same when he confronted me that first time. What was it? What did it mean?

Whatever it was... it made me more than a little unsettled to think about, like something unpleasant was walking on my grave.

X

-Vegeta

There was something about Kakarot. He was still terrified of his own shadow and refused to leave that room of his, but he was acting... different. He was very quiet, but he was actually eating and sleeping and he didn't seem to be hiding as much. I wondered what had changed, but I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth and examine the circumstances too closely, so I told myself to be grateful for the slight upswing in events... however small.

Of course, it was a long shot to hope he would recover fully, or even be able to talk to anyone like he used to. He hadn't seen anyone but me since that first day when he met... or re-met... Bulma, and it was a matter of guess to speculate how he would react to anyone else.

I could be patient though. I brought him food, but let him decide whether he took it or not. Some days I returned to find the tray I'd brought up full completely cleared. Sometimes only a morsel was missing, and sometimes it was untouched. Either way, the younger Saiyan was making a choice, and I was glad for that.

I wanted him to feel more at ease when people spoke to him, and hopefully regain some of his old vocabulary and easy speech, so I formed a habit of visiting him and sitting outside his door; talking to the air, and hoping he would listen. He did, sometimes. I could feel his ki just on the other side of the door and feel that his attention was on me. It was frustrating. I was so close to him, and yet so far. And the recent examination of my feelings was no help at all.

I wanted Kakarot. Gods, it was still hard to think that, but it was true. I wanted him to be what he had been to me before, a friend, and more. I wanted him to smile again, and I wanted him to be near me. I never wanted to doubt if he'd be there ever again. I'd suffered that for seven years when he was dead and three more when he was trapped in that thrice damned facility. I didn't want to have to wonder if he'd ever return anymore. I didn't want to worry that I might never see his face again. I needed Kakarot. I suppose it should be the other way around, but I needed him. I'd been alone for so long.

Bulma returned to Capsule Corp on the sixth day, and of course she immediately wanted to know my progress with Kakarot.

"Woman, I'll be honest," I said as she sat down across from me in the living room, "There hasn't been that much change yet."

One pale blue eyebrow rose, "You had six days to work with him and you haven't made any progress?"

I decided I didn't like her tone, and I growled, "This isn't something that can be magically fixed in a matter of days! It could take years, woman; your Kakarot may never be the same again."

I let that sink in, that she might never see a glimpse of her old friend again. There was a high – almost definite – chance that the Kakarot we knew was too far gone to be reached and brought back. The best anyone could hope for right now was some kind of recovery. At least for the terror and reclusive wariness to subside.

"I..." Bulma began, "Sorry. I just... I miss Goku. It feels like it's been forever since I've seen him. You know... the real him."

I bit back a defensive retort, that technically the real Kakarot was just upstairs, and forced myself to be patient.

"I know," I muttered, "I miss him too. But that's no reason to rush any of this. Kakarot will return to us when he's good and ready."

Bulma looked at me for a moment, "Wow Vegeta, that was almost nice."

I stammered some kind of protest before just falling silent. I'd worked so hard trying to appear "nice" to Kakarot that I'd forgotten what a foreign trait in my overall personality it was. Gods, was I going to be forced to be nice to everyone now?

"Have you gotten him to eat anything?" Bulma asked eventually, likely remembering the young Saiyan's fondness for food of all kinds back when he was... well... himself.

"Yes,"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Kakarot was right behind me, I hadn't even sensed his energy move.

Then what I was looking at hit me. Kakarot had actually... was actually... oh my gods, he actually left that room for once!

The scarred Saiyan handed me an empty tray that had been full of food this morning, as if nothing was unusual. I noted that his eyes were still darting anxiously though, and I knew I had let my hopes reach too high. I had actually let them soar for a moment and had dared to believe that by some miracle he had recovered.

"Why did you...?" I began. How had Kakarot plucked up the courage to leave what he must have seen as a haven to venture into this unknown of a living room?

The younger Saiyan muttered something involved the word "more". It took me a second to realize he was asking for more food. Elation slapped through me; some of his Saiyan appetite was returning, it seemed.

"Of course," I nodded, forcing myself not to scare the other Saiyan with a blatant display of joy, "Anything you want." I looked at him expectantly; and abruptly he sat down next to the chair I'd been sitting in; right there on the floor. It was as if all his willpower had drained and his legs had suddenly stopped supporting him. I glared at Bulma and drew a finger and thumb horizontally across my mouth in the universal sign to zip her lips. I didn't need her startling Kakarot, and I remembered he didn't particularly like her scientific scrutiny. It made him nervous.

I kicked myself for hoping as I walked into the kitchen to grant his request. But this did count as progress, didn't it? Just days ago Kakarot was frozen with terror and refused to leave the wardrobe that had become his sanctuary of sorts. Now he was actually willing to ask for what he wanted, even if it meant braving unfamiliar territory. Though the unfamiliar territory happened to be the living room, it was a step in the right direction.

I wondered how many more steps like these it would take before Kakarot was able to go out there into the world for real.

TBC

((This chapter felt really short. Sorry for the slow updates. I hope I can make them faster now that I've hit some progress and unexpected inspiration.

Thanks for your patience and the nice reviews, I love you all!

-Shinsun))