Shavneral

Chapter 11 – Kakarot

I had been sitting there for maybe two seconds before I got that feeling again. The feeling that the room was closing in on me, trapping me, suffocating me... I drew a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. It wouldn't do me any good to have a panic attack right then and there; right in front of the blue-haired woman who sat across the room from me.

I wasn't sure why I had left the room I had come to know as "safe" to brave this terrible unknown that lay outside the door. It wasn't just a desire for more food, though Vegeta had seemed delighted by my asking, rather than offended like I had thought he would be. After years of being kept carefully on the edge of starvation by my handlers, the thought that someone would actually want me to eat more was a new one, and slightly confusing... why would Vegeta just give and ask for nothing in return? He sure did it a lot, and again, I wondered why this surprised me. I strained my memory, trying to think of what it was about the prince that was still freaking me out. It wasn't his unfamiliarity anymore, I'd grown rather accustomed to his presence, though I was far from feeling comfortable in it... No, it was something about how he acted; it didn't suit him, it wasn't normal for him.

I suppose I'd spent too much time around those who wanted me to suffer and manipulated me to do what they wanted... I barely recognized a friendly gesture, and was surprised by how many of those I'd seen as of late.

In Shavneral, I'd been given only a meager amount of food, and it could hardly be called that. Minced, bloody chunks of meat usually, very rarely bread, and even then it was always stale. I was lucky enough to be given a piece of fruit once, the rind of a melon that still had some flesh left on it. It was by far the best meal I'd had in that damn prison.

The handlers were careful to give me food enough to keep up my strength, but I was always kept hungry, and the ache of my stomach demanding food became so normal for me that I barely noticed it as the months went by. There was a period of rebellion where I refused to eat for weeks, just to see if I'd get a rise out of the men, but they didn't seem to care or even notice that I pointedly tipped over the food dish each time they filled it without partaking a morsel.

They finally did notice after a while, I think it was a number of weeks but I have a hard time recalling time; after one of my fights against a mountain lion. It was a bit longer a battle than my matches usually were, mostly because I couldn't draw up the energy to fight back, and I was panting and bloody by the time I finally brought the beast down. I just stood there then, struggling to breathe and keep my vision from blurring; I was dizzy and numbness was flooding through me gradually, and after a few moments where I stood swaying, I collapsed out of sheer fatigue, passing out.

When I awoke I was punished for deliberately starving myself, and the burns on my palms were a painful reminder of what happened when I disobeyed orders. I learned I had been injected with fluids containing the nutrients my body needed after I'd passed out, and that was the only reason I had survived.

That event had scared me. I wasn't certain why; I'm sure death by starvation would have been a relief from the torment of my every day, but I wanted to live. I needed to. And my drive for life strengthened then, and rather than refuse sustenance to rebel against my handlers, instead I made myself stronger. If I was weakened by hunger I killed the rats on the floor of my cage, devouring their meat and taking the energy their tiny lives held for my own. I kept my fingernails sharp like claws by scraping them against the bars of my cell, giving myself a weapon.

Now though, I wasn't sure how to gain advantage against someone who didn't force me to seek it. How could I make myself stronger if Vegeta never drove me to? I was off my guard, unsure how to react to anything. And the feeling of a full stomach was so very foreign to me that I'd assumed I was ill or something the first time I'd gone to sleep fully fed. I was so used to the gnawing of my innards trying to digest themselves day and night that I almost missed it.

I had been free for... six days now? And for the first time I think I was truly grasping what that meant. I was free. I never had to wake up surrounded by unforgiving iron bars and chains again... I never had to be mercilessly whipped for putting a foot wrong, or burned for disobeying, eaten alive by hunger and fueled by a deep-seated rage for the single purpose of killing. But then... what did that leave? How could I suddenly stop what I'd been trained to do for years on end...? Where the hell did I go from here?

"Who am I?" I whispered quietly, forgetting I was still in the presence of the blue-haired human. I ignored the inquiring glance she shot at me, instead trying to answer my own question. All I knew was blood and bars and shackles... it was what had made up my every waking moment for as long as I could remember... And now that that was gone, had I utterly lost my identity?

I snorted; Shavneral was making a slave of me, just as my handlers had intended. I wasn't their prisoner anymore. I was more than that...

...Wasn't I?

I knew Vegeta wanted something – expected something – more from me. But I didn't know how to give him what I didn't have. I just didn't know what he was talking about when he spoke of a past I supposedly had lived in. I had also overheard the woman called Bulma referring to me as a different name than my own... one I didn't recognize. Goku, that's what it was.

I had to admit, the name sounded oddly familiar, but it was not in a good way. It was like an ache, an itch in the back of my mind that I couldn't scratch. It certainly wasn't a pleasant word to think of, it almost made me wonder if I'd heard it in Shavneral while I was being tortured, because my mind seemed to associate it with pain somehow.

I sighed and my gaze dropped to the blade fastened to the stump of my left thumb. In the flat steel I could see my reflection, and I studied my own face for a long moment, the same question running through my mind. Who am I?

I'd never really looked at my own reflection before... it was an odd thought; that I'd never really seen myself, but I'd never thought to, and there were no mirrors in Shavneral.

Well, I could see why people were unnerved when I looked at them. I knew what humans thought to be normal when it came to appearance, and my face was far from it. Thick, tangled black hair, spiked in all directions with heavy bangs that fell in my face. The sad, cropped remains of my ears, my nose almost catlike with its tip absent. A thin scar scratched beneath one eyelid; I blinked as my gaze locked onto itself. I had the eyes of a killer.

X

-Vegeta

Once Kakarot had eaten – it was the first time I'd seen him consume food in front of someone else, and I couldn't help but think ruefully that he ate like a predator; wary and efficient, savoring nothing in favor of finishing the task quickly, almost as if it were bothersome – he did not move from where he was sitting on the floor. I was a little confused by this; I had expected him to retreat back to his safe haven of a room once he'd sated his hunger, but he seemed unwilling to leave that spot.

Curiously, I glanced at his face and saw that he was deep in thought; I almost smiled to realize that while Kakarot may have changed exponentially into almost an entirely new person, he still looked much the same when thinking hard about something. He bit his lower lip slightly and his eyebrows furrowed into almost a pout, his black eyes fixed on the ground, the stare only interrupted as he blinked occasionally. I could almost convince myself he was still the same; but as I let my gaze wander, my doubts returned.

From this close vantage point – I was actually amazed he'd let me get this close to him in the first place without flinching or protesting - I had a very clear view of his shoulders and back.. and gods, how had he lived with those scars? There was virtually no skin that hadn't been mutilated and shredded by that atrocious whip, and the surface itself was forever inflamed and tense. I winced to imagine what it would feel like if someone touched him there, the area would surely be a center of terrible pain – whether current or remembered – and it must feel something like having a red-hot iron pressed to the open skin if someone even touched a finger to it. And that wasn't counting all the deeper damage to muscle and nerves.

I shook my head slowly, both astounded and repulsed... and enraged, definitely enraged... I wouldn't be surprised if the nerves themselves were completely exposed in places, and judging from how close the raw scars were to each other and how deep they crisscrossed... they probably hadn't even been given time to heal before he was whipped again, and again, the gods alone knew how many times... If he were anything less than Saiyan the agony alone would have killed him in a week, and I was both grateful that he was so that he had survived long enough to be freed... and rueful, that his Saiyan blood would allow him to endure that much pain and abuse.

If the scars weren't enough, I could also make out the healing blisters caused by many burns, some even overlapping the scars themselves. I shuddered, just thinking how agonizing it must have been to have those already painful and hypersensitive scars touched with extreme heat – even fire, if I was reading the damage right – it must have been enough to cause Kakarot to lose consciousness from the pain... unless of course the abuse to his nerves meant he was unable to feel it.

I wanted only to alleviate this torment. The dragonballs crossed my mind; I could wish the scars away for good and make my friend whole again... My tail lashed indecisively as I sat down in the armchair I'd previously been seated in, and crossed one leg over the other in thought.

I imagined what a shock it would be for Kakarot if he were suddenly healed; all the rearranging of tortured muscle and regrowth of skin and stunted nerves... it would be horrifying, and it might take even longer for him to recover from something that sudden and violating than this whole process in the first place. Also... the scars and alterations seemed to root Kakarot somehow, they gave him an identity. For the gods' sakes, he couldn't even remember who he was supposed to be as it was; if he was altered physically as well – even for the better; for how he was meant to be – he wouldn't even have that much.. and then what would he do? Not to mention that the scars were a testimony to the suffering he'd endured, a memory... if they were removed, Kakarot would be left with nothing to remind him what he'd gone through, what he'd survived.

No, it was for the better – at least for now – that nothing about Kakarot's physical identity be changed just yet. Better to wait for him to be sound of mind before he was made sound of body as well.

Still... I wanted to do something to help him, to somehow ease some of his pain. I let my eyes rove over the valleys of tense muscle and lacerated skin covering my friend's back. He'd probably never known the relief of having all that tension drained away, of the stress melting beneath another's skilled fingers.

I remembered something Kakarot himself had shown me years ago – back when he'd been the Kakarot I knew – after a rigorous training session that had left me sore and beaten. With gentle hands he'd kneaded the stress from my aching muscles, and I had never felt so relaxed. It was something I missed about our old comradery, how at ease I had been in his presence.

It was a little belated, but maybe I could return the favor, now that it was Kakarot who needed to be relaxed.

I doubted I could get him to agree. It would require a level of trust I had not yet gained from him, to be so vulnerable to someone else. But I had a feeling he needed a slight push or he'd never get out of the corner he'd driven himself into. And maybe that push started with a simple back massage.

X

-Kakarot

I knew Vegeta was sitting right behind me as I lost myself in thought. I could feel him staring at me; though why, I had no idea. I didn't feel the sudden prey instinct to back away in fear, in any case, so I didn't see any reason to move. I was aware once again that he wanted something from me... but what? What could I possibly offer him?

The blue-haired woman had finally left a few minutes ago, and I'd allowed myself to let much of my guard down in her absence. She did make me nervous. I was still wary, though, especially when Vegeta spoke to me.

"Kakarot?" he asked quietly, knowing by now that I favored lowered voices.

The two gold rings on the end of my tail clinked as the appendage swished in question, but I didn't answer with my voice, still thinking deeply about my own identity and what I should do now.

I could almost feel his hesitancy, and I jumped with a hiss as he tentatively brushed a light finger against my shoulder blade, running over several scars with the barest contact.

I was rigid for a drawn out moment, waiting for the pain, knowing it would come... it always did when someone touched me...

"Did that hurt?" he asked carefully, a waver of almost fear in his voice, as if afraid I would snarl at him or something.

I hesitated... then slowly shook my head, every muscle tensed with apprehension.

I heard Vegeta exhale in what sounded like relief. But I wasn't sure why. What does he want?

"Kakarot..." he said doubtfully, "Are you... still afraid of me?"

I blinked and jerkily turned to look at him, seeing the honest question in his eyes. In all honesty I didn't know what the hell I thought about him in the six days I'd known him, but I didn't think fear was on that list. Maybe it had never been. I was wary of him, but not necessarily afraid.

"No," I said in barely a whisper.

"Do you... do you trust me?" he asked, his dark tail flicking.

I felt my eyebrows furrow slightly, "No," I repeated.

"Would you be afraid... if I were to try to help you?" he asked slowly.

"No," I reiterated shortly.

"Even if it meant I had to touch you?"

I faltered, "I... I don't know what you're asking..."

"Would you let me touch you, if it meant easing your current pain?" I could tell he was reluctant to say this, as if convinced that I would refuse.

I thought about it for a long while. I did not trust Vegeta. I wasn't afraid of him, but I didn't trust him. I knew he was the safest to be around out of the people I'd met thus far, and that he expected something from me. I also knew I had panicked when he touched me before, and nearly all of the physical contact I'd been shown up to now had been cruel and painful.

When are you going to stop hiding and cowering and actually do something about your situation? A little voice in my head asked sharply.

When I can wake up without fear or pain and look at the people around me and not see enemies and captors. I answered it bluntly, unsure why I was arguing within my own mind.

Coward. The voice said.

Better a coward and safe than brave and dead. I countered.

I could swear I heard the voice laugh snidely, How safe are you now? You're terrified of your own shadow and can't even answer a simple question without suspecting treachery. Vegeta's offering to help you, are you going to run from him too?

I haven't run from anything, I thought with as much conviction as I could summon.

So you're a coward and a liar? The voice taunted.

Shut up. I thought angrily.

I looked back at Vegeta, who was waiting patiently for an answer. I thought about telling him no and retreating again, but the voice's words still niggled in my mind.

I had run away too many times.

"Alright," I said.

TBC

((So... now we finally – finally – get somewhere with this. It took ten chapters, but it still feels a bit rushed somehow. Sorry if it's shorter than it should be, I was going to make it longer, but it's almost midnight on a school night and my focus is drifting. The whole bit where Vegeta's considering using the dragonballs is actually in response to TFSrules's comments. It's not gonna be that easy, TFS!

Btw, for those of you who are waiting for the yaoi bit of this story (everything I write is yaoi, of course this is going to be too), I'll get into some intimacy between these two eventually; you can't rush these things.

I'm still hooked on this story, it's just taking a while to get all the chapters written out. If it's only updated once or twice a month, I'm sorry, but that's just how it's gotta be.

Thanks, as always, for your patience and reviews.

-Shinsun))