Tatoosh: This one is a bit more detailed on the torture. Right about the time Vegeta hits the floor, you might wanna skip a bit 'til he's out of the hospital and Gohan's done trying to fix him. This is also the chapter where the fact that I ain't a doctor or knowledgeable about Saiyan physiology really comes into play… hope it don't sound stupid.
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Goten slipped into his bedroom. He hadn't used this room except to change clothes since shortly after Vegeta had arrived. Now, he collapsed on the bed. Vegeta was well. He had to be, or he couldn't have said what he had. There was no reason to stay with him anymore. He could always go to Trunks, if he needed to. He'd managed to make the other boy admit he'd enjoyed their experience, and since neither of them knew which of them had been through the change, they'd agreed to help the other out if needed. After all, it had been kinda fun.
He grabbed his pillow, buried his face in it. He was not going to cry! Vegeta was well, that was what mattered. He'd be going home soon, anyway. His mother would make sure of that, if she caught them sleeping on the couch again. Not, he admitted hopelessly, that that was likely to happen again. Besides, Vegeta's attitude was back to normal, and she couldn't stand having him around.
How long was the boy going to be in the shower? Vegeta pressed a hand to his temple. The pills were working, but too slowly. He staggered as he walked to the bed, sitting on it carefully so that he didn't fall. The reoccurring headaches seemed to be the only sign he'd ever been injured, at least to his hosts. He'd been taking the Valium. He still dreamt, but no longer woke the house with his screams, being too drugged.
And he wasn't crying now, either. He was recovering, in the only way he knew how, as he'd discovered from his writing. He'd forced himself to be strong. A prince couldn't cry like a baby in front of his warriors, or scream like a terrified woman. A warrior had to be strong enough to overcome any obstacle, any defeat that didn't kill him. And a warrior prince couldn't show any sign, other than a physical scar, that anything terrible had happened. He'd forced himself to set aside the emotions that might give him away. He'd developed and perfected defiance and arrogance as his shields. To show no sign of affection. He'd grown weak here.
Where was the boy? He was trying so hard to get past the incident, but he was still terrified of being alone, though he refused to admit it. He refused to admit he was dependent on the drugs to sleep. He'd stopped telling Goten about the nightmares, since the Valium made them seem fuzzy and distant. But, his head hurt. And his back. If those pills didn't start working soon… Vegeta slumped, falling from the bed to the floor.
He'd just tell Vegeta that he was really wanting to sleep in his own bed again. He leaned his forehead against the door to the room they shared. Just go in, make sure the nightlight was on, see if he'd taken his pills. Then, tell him. Yeah, that would work. He opened the door.
"Vegeta?" Goten moved to the motionless figure, taking in the lines of pain on his face. "Vegeta?"
He could hear the boy, but he couldn't answer him. Why couldn't he talk? He tried opening his eyes, and couldn't do that, either.
"Vegeta?" The boy lifted him, pulling him off the floor to a sitting position. Vegeta's head lolled back, and no effort of his could hold it up. And the pain! The slightest of whimpers. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Gentle hands ran down his arms, across his chest and stomach, searching for new injuries. His head rested on Goten's shoulder now, as the teen checked his back.
Vegeta screamed, pain lancing through him in waves when Goten reached his lower back. He arched, his body going into convulsions he couldn't control any more than he could control the screaming. Goten scrambled away, then back, rolling the thrashing Saiyan to his stomach. "Oh, Kami! DAD! DAD!!" The back of Vegeta's shirt was red with blood.
Shards of glass. Scalpels. The acid tipped spikes. She'd used them all, smiling as he screamed, delighted that such a small thing could cause him so much pain. Slicing into the remnant of his tail over and over, then packing the cuts with salt, or pouring in vinegar or some other burning substance. Let the wounds begin to heal, and start all over. The last time, there had been some sort of thorns. She'd sliced deeply, planted the thorns, and told him he'd scream so beautifully for her when they finally made their way out of his body. Then she'd raped him with her favorite razor spiked strap-on, digging her nails into his tail's mangled remains when he didn't scream enough to please her. The agony that had roiled through his body hadn't been enough to put him out, and he'd screamed – screamed and screamed – for hours before she'd finished operating and playing. Even after she'd gone, he hadn't been able to stop screaming, and when his voice had gone, the screams became silent.
Vegeta whimpered, becoming aware of pain and his surroundings. Bright, white light. He was strapped down to a table, on his stomach, with a needle in his arm. He struggled, his panic increasing as he realized he couldn't get loose. A man with a scalpel, coming towards him. "Put him under." A mask, covering his mouth and nose… panicked breathing, then darkness.
More pain. His back… his tail. He was still on his stomach, but no longer strapped down. He kept his eyes tightly shut. Had all that time with Kakarot been nothing but a dream? Had he imagined it all to escape the horror, only to reawaken to it? He listened, slowly recognizing the sounds. He was in a hospital.
"Vegeta?" Kakarot's voice. "Hey. You awake?"
He kept quiet, not knowing what had happened. Why he was in a hospital, and in so much pain?
"Dad, he may sleep for awhile." Gohan. "I didn't think to check his tail very closely when I examined him, that first time. And to have that happen, well, it's just more trauma he'll have to get through."
"But what happened?" he heard Kakarot ask. "I never had anything like that happen when my tail grew back. Neither did you."
His tail was back? It didn't feel like it.
"We never had some twisted fiend slice us up and plant thorns and glass shards in our tails, either. It's no wonder he had so much psychological damage when you found him. And now this."
This? What this?
"Is he gonna be alright, Gohan?"
"I don't know. I really don't, kid."
"But what did happen?" Goten insisted. "You didn't say."
A heavy sigh. "I think his tail tried to grow back." Tried!? Vegeta thought. "But, the damage… was too much. First off, whoever did this to him had sliced him up pretty well. Then they put shards of glass and thorns inside him. The thorns are the kind that migrate through a body, so whoever it was had planned for him to be in a lot of pain for a long time. That's probably part of the reason he kept getting those headaches, one of the thorns was lodged in a very peculiar way in his spine. It migrated up, unlike the others.
"Tails regenerate, we know that. And they do it when they want to. From what I just operated on, I'd say that's what happened. His tail was trying to regenerate. But, because the remains of his tail were so badly damaged, not to mention full of sharp things, it wasn't able to do so."
His tail? His tail couldn't regenerate? Too much damage?
"You mean, he'll never have a tail again?" Kakarot, asking what Vegeta didn't want a positive answer to.
"I can't say for sure. I removed every last glass shard and thorn, and had to go very deep to do so. And I stitched him up very carefully, trying to leave the least amount of scar tissue possible."
"So his tail could grow back?"
"If it can, there's a better chance of success now. But there's still a lot of damage. I honestly don't know if he'd be able to regenerate his tail, or if this would happen again." Gohan didn't mention any of the other damage he'd seen and fixed. The senzu bean Vegeta had had after the explosion had come too late since much of the damage had healed. It was amazing the Saiyan was alive at all.
"How long before he can go home?"
"I'd prefer to have him out of here before he wakes up. Use Instant Transmission, and put him straight to bed. I wouldn't even tell him anything happened, other than you found him passed out. It's probably best that way."
It was done. Vegeta kept silent throughout the procedure, passing out again when Goku accidentally bumped his back against a door.
His tail. Vegeta kept his eyes closed, unwilling to face anyone. He'd waited so long for it to grow back, and now this. He'd heard what Gohan had said under his breath. Only a ten percent chance that his tail would regenerate properly, if it could regenerate. No guarantees.
The bed dipped, undoubtedly Goten. Yes, it was. He recognized the touch as the boy tended to the bandages on his back. "It looks better than it did when you first got here, you know. The wounds aren't anywhere as bad, and it's not nearly as puffy." A gentle touch, tracing across his shoulder. "I know you're awake. I've slept with you too often for you to fool me like you did Dad and Gohan. I know you know what happened." The fingers moved to trace his jaw. "And if you don't eat, Vegeta, you'll die of starvation before your tail makes up its mind whether or not to try again."
"Very funny." He opened his eyes, to be immediately presented with a plate of sandwiches. "Help me sit up? I can't eat that lying on my stomach."
It turned out not to be as difficult as he'd thought it would be to get up. "It doesn't hurt as much."
"No, it shouldn't. Between all the sharpies being gone, and the IV drip, you shouldn't feel much of anything."
IV drip? He'd missed that. The needle was still in his arm. He made a motion to remove it. "Oh, no you don't!" Goten caught his hand. "Not yet, you don't. Eat first, okay? Then I'll let you be in just as much pain as you want. Keep you from overdoing."
"As if a little pain could stop me!"
Goten considered the stories he'd grown up with about Vegeta's training. "Point taken. But I take out the needle."
Vegeta nodded, munching on the sandwiches. They didn't last long. "I ate."
"Okay, okay." Goten moved to the IV, turning a little switch and poking a couple buttons. Then he pulled the needle, and Vegeta had a horrid flashback at its length. "There. No more pain meds. Now, you get to hurt." He helped Vegeta lay back down, then headed for the door.
"You aren't staying?" Just the barest hint of fear.
"I thought I'd sleep in my own bed tonight."
"Oh." No! You can't! His mind was screaming, but he couldn't get the words out of his throat. "Pl…" he began, but too late. The door had shut. He was alone. "No, please. Not alone, please," he whispered. "I don't want to be alone." But the pride that had sustained him through Frieza, through the other horrors he lived through, was back in place. It had broken once before, when Frieza had killed him, and returned stronger. This time was no exception. He wouldn't call the boy back. He couldn't get his voice above the pleading whisper that only he could hear, the one that barely took any breath. A familiar whisper, one even Raditz hadn't heard when laying right beside him. The threatening tears held at bay by the will he'd barely recovered. "I don't want to be alone anymore. Please. Don't leave me."
He got himself under control, as he always had. But he couldn't sleep. He really didn't want to be alone. Finally, forcing himself to ignore the pain, he got to his feet and made his way to the chair. The desk lamp on, he put pen to paper. The regeneration tank, the search for the Namekian dragonballs. The fight against the Ginyu, Kakarot's appearance, the fateful nap that had led to him not getting his wishes. Fighting Frieza. He took a deep breath, steadied his hand, and wrote about his own death. His life flowed in the ink, page after page. Bulma, Trunks, becoming a super Saiyan for the first time. The androids, Cell. The sun came up, and still he wrote. Buu, dying again, the fusion. On and on, he wrote.
He ignored the call for breakfast, and the one for lunch. He forced the shooting pains from his back from his consciousness. The only thing that mattered was the paper before him, the flowing ink. One event after another, he wrote them all down. The pen slowed as the day lengthened, as he got closer to the day when he'd been captured, and grew tired.
The bed beckoned, the desk was closer. He set the pen down, and dropped his head to crossed arms. He had to have at least a little nap. He woke up in the bed, Goten sitting beside him.
"Hungry?"
"Yes." He ate the food the teen had brought him, drank the milk. Goten was uncharacteristically quiet. "Something wrong?"
"No." A bit more silence. "Done?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll go." Goten began gathering the plates.
"No." Just barely a whisper.
"What?"
"I…" Vegeta tried to force himself to say what he wanted. And failed. "N…nothing." I don't want to be alone. Why can't I tell him? "The Valium. I should take it."
"Okay." Goten got him the pill, and he dry swallowed it.
"Thank you."
"Sure." He left, shutting off the light as he went.
"I will not cry. It is unbefitting of the Saiyan prince." The pillow he had his face buried in muffled his voice, and absorbed the tears he pretended he didn't shed.
His back healed. The three months of captivity had been meticulously detailed where he knew what had happened. Every torture, every nightmare was described in explicit detail. The slow healing of his body, the slower healing of his mind. The failed regeneration. Vegeta sat back, looked at the last sentence he'd written: At every turn, I was taught to not feel, not to show any emotion other than anger or pride, succeeding so well I am miserable – I do not want to be alone, yet I cannot let go of my pride long enough to say so.
He put the pen down, gathered the pages. A golden glow appeared in his hand as he regarded the pages that contained his life. No one else would ever read them, no one else could. He had never taught his children his native language, and Kakarot didn't remember it. He let it fade.
No one would ever know. He'd written it all in Saiyan. His restored pride, though damaged, had demanded it.