Shaveneral

Chapter 12 – Kakarot

I was extremely tense, knowing Vegeta was going to touch me somehow; he'd said he would... and I'd given him permission to...

Maybe I shouldn't have.

I blinked and looked around when nothing happened for a long time. Imagine my surprise to find he wasn't there behind me anymore; he'd left. I was confused, why did he leave? But then he returned, holding something in one hand as he sat in the same chair he'd been in before.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was holding, and he interrupted before I could.

"It's just lotion. Nothing to hurt you, alright?"

I held his gaze for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to believe the honest compassion in his eyes. Eventually I just sighed and turned back around, dropping my gaze to the floor.

There was a moment where he did nothing, and I was aware that I had tensed up again, rigid, afraid though I wouldn't admit it. I didn't know what to expect; no one had ever given physical contact that didn't result in pain or the force to lead to pain. But Vegeta had said he was going to help me...

I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut at the foreign sensation of a warm hand smoothing over my shoulder. Every muscle was screaming at me to bolt, to refuse, to protest somehow, but I forced myself to stay still; I was tired of running away.

Another hand joined the first, both tentative, hesitant, and I could feel the fingers trembling slightly. It took me a second to realize it was actually me that was shivering.

I had been so uptight that I didn't notice at first that the touch brought absolutely no pain. My eyes opened slowly in confusion, and I craned my neck to look over my shoulder at Vegeta. He had both hands resting gently on my shoulders, and his expression was one of a faint line between indecision and hope.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked carefully, "If I'm hurting you I won't -"

I interrupted quietly, "You're not," my voice was almost a whisper, "But I... don't understand..."

"What don't you understand?" he didn't move his hands from me, but neither did he resume their actions.

"What are you...? Why...?" I wasn't entirely certain what I wanted to ask.

A flicker of a smile crossed Vegeta's face for a second, "Just relax for me, Kakarot."

I startled myself by doing as he said, dropping my questions and inhibitions for now and returning my gaze to the floor.

I wasn't sure why he wanted to help me, or what he intended to do now that he had me completely at his mercy. He could destroy me so easily if he would choose to... and yet I found my fear draining as the full surface of Vegeta's palms spread over my shoulders.

If he'd wanted to hurt me, he would have done so by now. And that small consolation was the one that kept me still with something resembling anticipation.

I was still confused, but I was a little curious now to see what Vegeta was trying to do.

X

-Vegeta

Alright, I'll admit it, I was nervous. I was afraid I would accidentally hurt Kakarot as my fingertips cautiously explored the battered planes of his scarred shoulders. Every inch of his skin that came in contact with my hands was hot to the touch, as if he had a permanent fever, and the surface was ragged and uneven with poorly healed scars.

I didn't want to linger in one place for too long, but neither did I want to move too quickly, so I spent considerable time just familiarizing myself with the concept – the freedom – of being able to actually touch Kakarot without him shying away or attacking. I could see him tracing the edge of the blade attached to his thumb distractedly as I slowly ran my flat palms down his shoulder blades, feeling the ridges of scars crisscrossing and overlapping; some much deeper or longer than others.

Despite the malnutrition he'd suffered and the torture he'd endured, Kakarot still retained almost the exact same chiseled musculature that he'd shown when I knew him before, even if the pure muscle was obscured and marred by lacerations and burns. Some of that maintained physique was Saiyan blood keeping him in battle condition, and some of it was his own drive to survive and become stronger that had nothing to do with his race.

Deciding I'd spent enough time mapping the scarred skin beneath my fingers, I paused to put a small amount of lotion in my hands and rubbed my palms together to warm it. When I returned to the tense shoulders of my friend before me, it was with a little more confidence. I began a gentle kneading motion, hesitating only to discern whether I was causing pain. For a few moments, Kakarot seemed to tense even more rather than relax. But, amazingly, as my fingers worked skillfully at the coiled muscle, his agitated posture loosened significantly, and a soft sound of appreciation left his lips.

Hardly daring to believe my good fortune, I experimented carefully with light amounts of pressure and circling motions with my fingertips, memorizing the harsh, deliberate lines of the deep scars engraved in the heated flesh. I tackled the knots of tension gradually, never working too deep or too fast.

I moved lower, and started on a particularly deeply scarred area of his lower back. I could feel Kakarot twitch just slightly, as though the area was still sensitive, and I guessed that much of the abuse to his nerves must have been centered there. I warned myself to proceed with caution, and carefully manipulated the taut muscle. It was a stubborn knot indeed, and with my tentativeness, I couldn't give it the treatment it required. I pressed a little bit harder, and Kakarot stiffened, a hiss drawing between his lips.

It was as if an electric spark had ignited in my fingertips and ran all the way through my body. My vision flickered and for a moment I saw a blur of dust-clouded darkness. I heard a sizzling snapping sound somewhere in the back of my mind and felt the echo of burning, crawling, slashing pain originating near the base of my spine.

I came back to myself with a shaky breath, unsure what I had just experienced. It was as if I'd been thrown into a shadow of Kakarot's memories, seeing what he'd seen, feeling what he'd felt.

I thought hard as my fingers lingered lightly across the area of muscle that had caused the phenomenon. What just happened?

Experimentally, I pressed two fingers to the knot of muscle again, deliberately finding a long, deep scar to attempt to make sense of what had happened.

This time Kakarot yelped, and I had no warning before I was submersed in a memory suddenly. The chafing of metal shackles digging into my wrists and neck, the palpable sense of terror and bloodshed making the very air tingle. The whistle of a horsewhip behind me... the knowledge that there was no way for me to escape it... and agony...

That's the only word I can find for it, though it seems far too simple.

I thought I knew pain. I'd endured my fair share of it during many battles and under the rule of Frieza. But I rewrote my definition of it now. It was as if a line of fire was being carved into my back, but with no rush of adrenaline to dull the pain, no knowledge that I was enduring it to protect others or further better myself... Senseless pain. It was a new idea for me, and it brought forth a surge of something that felt like fear but sounded like fury, pounding in my ears.

The memory released me and I shivered in horror, my hands withdrawing quickly from Kakarot as if seared. How could anyone do that? How could anyone purposely inflict that kind of meaningless agony on another living being? What kind of mindless, heartless, sadistic monster would do that? To Kakarot of all people? What had he ever done to earn such brutal punishment when all he'd ever done was selflessly give, sacrifice and love?

I was aware that Kakarot had turned and was looking at me perplexedly, the tint of wariness still coloring his eyes.

"...Vegeta?" he asked hesitantly.

I could not reply. There was nothing I could possibly say.

I had a new and terrible understanding for what he'd gone through in that godsforsaken prison. Having heard of it and seen the evidence of it, I'd had a rough grasp on what had transpired and what he'd been put through... but to experience it firsthand, even as just a blurred, diluted memory... I understood now why he was so afraid of everything... why he'd shut himself away from everything for six straight days following his release from that facility. It could hardly be called a release, I now knew. The memories haunted him, dogged his fearful footsteps, chased him at night and lingered in his waking hours. He wasn't free now. He hadn't been freed at all. He was a prisoner in his own mind and body.

I met his dark gaze, reading the shadows of remembered torment and measureless agony in the depths of his eyes, and I found empathy and pity. I knew what it was like to be a slave, I had worked under that tyrant Frieza for much of my early life, but I hadn't known what it was like to utterly be a prisoner until today. Until I'd experienced flashes of Kakarot's recent past and realized that, though I may try to understand what he'd endured and how he felt, I'd never really know.

Because I had something he didn't; the ability to know the difference.

All Kakarot knew was what he'd been subjugated to in that facility. He didn't know that there was a life beyond the bars, that there were people who cared for him and loved him. He was totally and completely...

"...Caged," I murmured, not taking my eyes off of his, "...My caged Kakarot..."

He blinked slowly, puzzlement written on his face. I studied the rough edge where the end of his nose had been sliced off and wished I could just make it disappear; just return him to how he should be.

I found myself thinking that I would literally have done anything if it meant Kakarot had never had to suffer this horrible mistreatment... even if it meant I would have had to take his place.

I had never felt that depth of caring for anyone or anything. I didn't have a word for it, but I was sure such a word existed somewhere.

TBC

((...Aaaand... im back to writing extremely short chapters. Sorry guys.

Yes, the word Vegeta is thinking of is love, calm yourself. Also the line "my caged Kakarot" belongs to IceCamaro, I'm just borrowing it for these circumstances, I'm not that creative.

I sense a kiss in the near future. It almost happened here, but I'm too much of a coward to try to write it into this scene and it's the middle of the night (like 2 a.m.) before Monday morning, so...

I feel like my descriptions of feelings and memories are hard to understand... sorry about that.

Thanks as always, for reading and reviewing.

-Shinsun))