You wear guilt

like shackles on your feet-

like a halo in reverse.

I can feel

the discomfort in your seat,

and in your head it's worse.

"You need to give me control."

Bulma didn't quite understand the sudden fervor that overtook her, but it was strong and hot-blooded, consuming every thought.

It was survival in its purest form.

That's what she told herself, standing under the spray of the shower, watching crimson wash from her skin and circle down the drain in the floor.

No one knew better than her what it felt like to adapt. She was a prodigy and her mind developed at an early age, ripe with critical thinking skills and fortitude. She always imagined using her talents to create or to repair, but she had never once considered that she would need to use her brains for something other than machinery.

Now, she was the broken machine and there was a desperate flaw in her coding- a cry for help that would go unanswered unless she shifted her frame of mind. So when it seemed impossible to go on, Bulma took herself apart and examined the finer pieces, the things that gave her hope.

Goku was the only thing keeping her alive and she both resented and delighted in that fact. She hated how easily she lied to protect him, yet her concern for him kept her human and made her feel something more than an empty numbness.

And the prince... well he was the part that wouldn't fit, the cog that screeched and violently protested being used, and yet without him, she wouldn't survive and neither would Goku. Had he been a normal prisoner, Frieza would've killed him by now and if he wasn't considered dangerous to the lizard, then Frieza wouldn't be keeping him under such careful watch.

So she would have to lubricate the prince and make this machine run smoother.

She would have to get her hands dirty.

"You want control?" Frieza inquired, staring at the blood now flaking off her hands. "I do not believe you have the temperament for more responsibility, Bulma. Not after what happened to poor Jeru. That is quite the mess I will have to get cleaned up."

It had been difficult for Bulma to curb the tremors ravaging her body and muster up enough courage to demand her freedom, but it seemed that her candor paid off.

"I don't know why you want to break him so badly or who you both really are, but what you're doing won't work," Bulma explained, choosing her words carefully. "The prince said that he has known you for a long time. Whatever you can possibly plan for him, he expects it and it gives him the advantage."

Frieza's coy expression dissolved instantly, replaced by a seething hate. "Why do you think you were brought here?" he spat, turning from her to stalk deeper into his quarters. "The problem is not that I cannot break him, the problem is that he needs me to. He needs to be made a martyr for his people and I refuse to give him the satisfaction."

The water was scalding now, but Bulma felt like no amount of cleansing could wash away the coating of guilt covering her skin just under Jeru's blood. She wasn't born capable of this changeling life, but the fear of being forced to live while dead inside was an excellent teacher.

"That's the most honest you've ever been with me," Bulma observed, watching Frieza's tail swish in aggravation.

The creature turned around abruptly and scowled. "Why are you so concerned with how I treat my animals?" he growled. "I give you everything in exchange for obedience and yet you dare to question my methods."

She could've been grateful for Frieza's favor, but her physical safety was no longer a priority. She couldn't watch herself become like him. She couldn't become so jaded to perverse desires and brutal torture.

Standing there, covered in another man's blood, Bulma had laid everything she had on the line.

"What happened with Jeru tonight…. I'm losing my mind. I can't eat. I can't think. I need to get out and I need to take Goku with me. I'm willing to do whatever it takes. You forced this job on me and yet you prevent me from doing it at every possible turn. Your way isn't working, so give me control."

"You dare to give orders to me?" Frieza's voice was shrill, but bellowing, filling the room with an echo that Bulma swore she could feel reverberating in her bones.

"A month," she declared. "Give me a month alone with him and I'll break him beyond recognition. There has to be some sort of dire situation you can create to make him grow attached to me."

Her bold statement earned her a sly look from Frieza over his shoulder. His slanted eyes were narrowed but a smile blossomed on his face revealing tiny little rows of teeth. "Be careful what you wish for my dear," he purred, causing Bulma to cock her head in confusion. "Is that not one of your Earth sayings? But if you insist on stepping into my role, I will be sure to immerse you completely if you truly want your freedom."

"I do."

Frieza clucked his tongue then shocked heist guest by bowing graciously towards the ground. When he lifted his face, his gaze was sparkling like blood-drenched crystal. "Then be sure to give Goku a proper farewell. You have one monthly cycle as this planet orbits its giant star."

The air became stifling as Bulma hung her head, furrowing her brows at the marbled floor of the shower room. She thought everything had been so simple: a prisoner, a sadistic enemy, and unwitting help procured to torture said prisoner.

She slammed her palm against the slick surface of the shower wall in sheer frustration. How could she agree to do something that was most likely going to get her killed regardless of her intentions? Yet she had no choice. If anyone could kill Frieza, it was the prince, and if anyone could help Goku understand his hidden strength, it was the prince.

Strange how they were brought here to destroy him, yet she hoped he would be their savior. But the time for thinking was over and now all she could do was set her plan in motion and hold her breath.

Goku was still awake when she returned to the room, sitting up in his bed and staring at the wall. He didn't greet her like usual, but she understood his detachment.

She had just killed a man in front of him and she didn't feel a single thing inside. Instead, she had been more concerned with her sudden realization of Goku's potential power.

Who would want to cheerfully embrace their friend after something like that?

"Is it strange that I don't feel bad?" Goku asked suddenly. His voice was sullen, while he swung his legs off the edge of the bed like a small child. "That guy is dead and you were….. I didn't even flinch, Bulma. All I could think about was the fact that you were keeping secrets from me."

Bulma swallowed hard and ran her fingers through her damp hair before replying with a shaky breath. "If that's bad, then it's worse for me to feel relieved." It felt good to get that horrifying fact off her chest. She smiled weakly at the floor, avoiding her friend's gaze.

Hopping off the bed, Goku shuffled over to her, bringing his slouched form to a stop. "You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" he asked, lifting her chin gently and bringing his sorrowful dark eyes to hers.

"No," Bulma answered honestly, shrugging. When Goku's gaze continued to bore into her, she straightened up and held her head high. "I'm asking you trust me. Even though we haven't known each other long, you know I wouldn't hurt you…. or myself."

The words left her mouth slowly, heavy with truth. She may lie to him to protect him from the terrors of his past and she may overlook his gentle caresses knowing they meant much more to him, but she would never spite him.

"You're the only thing I have left," she admitted, the realization hitting her all at once. The other captives may have families or old acquaintances to run to if ever offered freedom, but not her.

She only had Goku.

"You're the only thing I've ever had," Goku replied quietly, causing Bulma's eyes to widen impossibly. A healthy blush spread across his creamy flesh as he averted his eyes and her heart began to race.

"Then be sure to give Goku a proper farewell."

Frieza's words bounced around in her mind, reminding her of why she was hiding secrets in the first place.

"I'm going to be working with Frieza a little more from now on," she explained with a sigh. "I don't know how often I'll see you."

Goku snapped his head back to her and frowned. "I don't trust him, Bulma!" he complained, his speech becoming quicker with apprehension. "Not after everything and especially not after Jeru! It's not right for someone to keep overlooking all these things happening to you and-"

Placing a slender finger to his pink lips, Bulma silenced him with a stern look. "You don't have to trust him or anynone else. Just me," she declared. "Do you trust me?"

Goku nodded slowly against her finger, his mouth brushing her flesh as his lips parted. He pulled away and awkwardly placed his hands by his sides. "I do trust you….. just promise me you will be careful. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," she assured softly. "I promise as long as you promise to do what I told you in the lab. Do you remember?"

Nodding once more, determination flashed in Goku's eyes, and Bulma began to believe that they may actually be able to save themselves. She couldn't tell him everything; it was far too dangerous and she knew that his ignorance would be valuable in case Frieza decided to question him. But even this small victory sparked a fire of hope and the man in front of her was the ever-glowing ember.

She watched her friend turn away, walking towards his disheveled bed, but he suddenly stopped and turned back to her, playing with his large hands and looking at the floor. "When do you start working with him?"

Bulma let out a heavy sigh and groaned. "Tomorrow morning, so I need to get to bed." She move towards her side of the room, but Goku slid into her path, blocking her.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and his face was a red as the blood that had coated her hands only hours ago. "If you don't know when I'll see you next, then I want to make the most of tonight."

In all her years, Bulma had never been the object of someone's desire. She had seen the other women being seduced either by other captives or potential masters, but despite her inexperience, Goku's words held a weight that she instantly recognized. She knew what he meant and yet her mind seemed frozen, stuck running the last few seconds over and over in her mind.

She hesitated for what seemed like hours, yet Goku never once forced himself on her or demanded an answer. He wanted nothing from her except her trust and company and he was the only being not taking advantage of her for either her intellect or her usefulness.

The tenderness in his dark gaze was all Bulma needed to see before she closed her eyes and leaned forward, letting herself fall. Goku's plush lips caught her and unlike their first kiss, this contact was slower, more tantalizing with exploration that made her body sing.

He pulled her into him, ran his hands up her back and wound greedy fingers into her hair, tasting her without abandon.

She wondered briefly if she should care that he had many intimate encounters with women in his past, but somehow she felt like this was an entirely different man born out of their bond. This was her Goku, and in her eyes he was a saint.

The question was, was she his angel? His savior? Should he ever discover all that she had done for him, would he be grateful?

She wanted an answer before things went further, but Bulma didn't have time to think before they were tangled up in the sheets on her bed, mouths connecting repeatedly before parting for brief interludes of air. Goku hovered above her, his body trapping her, but she certainly wasn't a prisoner.

His lips moved to her neck and she bared the long pale column as small stuttering moans began to fall from her lips. The sounds instantly conjured up memories of what she had done to herself while the prince had watched on and she noticed a dangerous precedent regarding the men in her daily life.

But that instance in the cell had just been survival and this was…..

What exactly? Desire? Lust? Love?

She couldn't answer that, because the moment she had thought of the prince and the way he had breathed down her neck as her hand inched beneath her dress, the prisoner became all she could think about.

His dark eyes roaming over her as he crouched before her and crawling with a hungry look in his eyes. The deep timbre of his voice as he growled, a sound that made her stomach quake in terror but her skin light on fire.

There may have been clues about a possible attraction to him, but as Goku gently kissed her body, working his way down her neck to her clothed chest, Bulma suddenly realized the most terrifying thing about the situation she was in.

She had just agreed to spend a month trying to break the prince when she had been suppressing an unbridled curiosity about him. Curiosity that she had mistaken for trivial and innocent, but ever since she first laid hands on him while Frieza introduced them to his unconscious body, there had been something steadily growing deep within her.

She tried to cut it down after their first encounter in the strange tank room, and once more when she had begged him to kill her. But it remained like a cancer that she didn't even acknowledge until she was given the diagnosis.

Should she fight it? Why did she care so much when he rarely ever occupied her thoughts until moments such as these?

Goku was above her stomach now, running his fingers over the blue fabric covering her skin with awe. His head was cocked and his lips were quivering but his eyes were soft as he brought them to her. "Tell me if I go too far," he whispered, leaning back on his haunches to look her over. His face was several different shades of red and pink and just watching him struggle against shyness made her apprehensive too.

Bulma shifted anxiously, her hips straddled by his long torso. "We don't have to do anything if it will upset you," she offered, noting the way he was chewing on his bottom lip. She almost wished he would stop them, stop her from this sacrilege, but he didn't.

He let out a huff of air before sucking in a deep breath. A second later, Goku began to peel off his shirt, stretching the tight fabric over his head before tossing it to the ground.

Dark eyes landed on her and she watched on, stunned as he crawled off the bed and hooked his hands into the waistband of his clingy pants. He paused to collect himself before his shaky voice echoed off the walls.

"I don't want to scare you away Bulma, but don't give yourself to me if you don't intend to stay," he declared, his once soft features becoming stern. The look caused a shiver to flow through her prone body, but she silenced her fear. Goku would never hurt her. "I told you that you're the only thing I've ever had, and I want it to stay that way."

Bulma didn't know what to say. She sat up and carded her fingers through her hair before letting her arms fall back to the bed. "When did you decide that you wanted me?" she asked, both terrified and eager to hear the answer.

His gaze was level as he replied with veracity in his strong voice. "The moment I met you."

Her silence must've been taken positively because in the next few seconds, Goku was bare before her. He crawled back over her and helped her out of her suit since she was shaking too much to do it herself.

She should've told him about the traitorous thoughts in her mind and that she loved him as family, as a friend, but she didn't stop him because her mind kept replacing him with another who was so similar, yet so foreign.

Once she was exposed, Goku actually let out a shuddering gasp much to Bulma's surprise. "You're so beautiful," he whispered reverently, running his hands over her. She could feel the pulse beneath his skin. "Even when you're hurt, you're just so beautiful."

"Goku, I need to-"

A finger came to her lips, a mockery of her earlier silencing of him, and he smiled down at her with a look born from deep emotion. "You don't need to trust anyone else, just me." He repeated her words sweetly.

Did he know about her betrayal?

But how could he know that when his lips met her bare stomach that she was thinking of another?

It was as if he was asking her to let him have this one shred of affection despite her hesitation.

Beneath that confident facade was desperation, and who was she to deny him happiness? Wasn't she already willing to take a bullet for him everyday?

What's one more day…. one more kiss….

Bulma jumped when his mouth settled between her parted thighs and of all the sensations in the world, she wanted this one to last forever. She had never heard of such a lewd act, yet she spread her legs further and mewled as his strong hands gripped her legs and held her down.

Every sweep of his textured tongue made her hips stutter forward and her head rear back. She bit her lip against the sweet bliss but eventually she went slack-jawed and the most depraved sounds tumbled out of her mouth between labored pants.

"G-Goku…"

His attention was suddenly diverted and she lifted her head to find him staring at her with wide eyes, his chin glistening with evidence of her desire. He frowned and shook his head. "You don't like it," he pouted. "I've…. never done this before, but I've heard that it's the most selfless act a man can do for…. a woman's pleasure. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you because of who I used to be." His face was no longer flushed with passion, but sullen and forlorn, completely dejected.

Bulma trailed a trembling hand down to the apex of her thighs and returned with slick fingertips. The sight alone brought her back to the cell with the prince and before she could scold herself, she pondered what it would be like to have his offensive mouth on her and she was ashamed.

Ashamed at the person she had become.

Even now, with a man that cared so deeply for her, she couldn't bring herself to simply exist instead of trying to survive. Her thoughts of the prince despite their encounters nearly ending in death or bodily harm were nothing but a defense mechanism to spare herself the pain of becoming attached to another.

Yet, she physically couldn't cause Goku pain by turning him away; just the thought made her heart ache profusely.

Instead, she remained silent, relaxing her body until her head once again rested on the mattress. Seconds later, her friend returned to her femininity with fervor and Bulma was tired of overthinking, so she shut her eyes and let emotion flow through her like a cleansing flood.

By the time Goku finally left her for the promise of rest beneath the sheets, Bulma had shouted his name so often that her throat was raw and the muscles of her legs were tight from the constant flexing of her toes.

Once she was settled into bed, she pointed out his obvious need which jutted out from his pelvis, swollen and begging for attention, but he merely shook his head before carefully pulling his pants back on and turning off the lights.

"It's not about what I want," he whispered in the dark. "This all for you, Bulma. I would do anything for you. I won't let you go."

The words were sincere and intended to be sweet, but all Bulma could taste was the beginnings of dread spawning on her tongue.

"Promise me that you will always protect me."

Pulling her in for a kiss that would be felt and tasted for the rest of her years, Goku sealed his fate with an unspoken promise.

"Wake up, princess."

Vegeta sputtered to life, awash in freezing liquid.

He blinked up at his assailants, noting the slit glares and smug reptilian smiles of the Ice-jin. With a growl, he lunged from his makeshift bed and grabbed the nearest guard, tumbling to the ground while tightening his stranglehold.

Furious, the prince watched as the life ebbed away from the creature beneath him as water ran down his angled face and onto the floor. He shivered from the contact, having not seen a bath or shower in quite sometime. In his hands, the guard struggled to stay lucid, and he frowned when the Ice-jin relaxed and his beady eyes fixed on the doorway.

Instantly, Vegeta released his prey and stood to address the true object of his rage who had taken residence near the door.

Frieza looked as spiteful as ever, his lips drawn up in a sickening smile. He sauntered further into the prince's space, stopping only to scoff at the guard on the floor. "It has been awhile, Vegeta. How are you faring?"

"Fuck you," the prince spat, cracking his knuckles despite his greatly reduced strength. He had quite enough time to silently seethe, locked away like an animal. The woman had stopped coming to him, Frieza never visited, and all Vegeta did was think, survive, sleep- in that order.

He could barely even piss anymore.

Frieza stifled a small laugh. "Harsh language is unbecoming of royalty," he sneered, pacing around the cell in observation while the guards righted themselves in their lord's presence.

"I am not royalty," Vegeta shouted, fists clenched. He could feel the flesh of his palms give way to his overgrown nails as he tried hard to suppress his fury. He was not strong enough to kill the creature just yet, but it was getting harder to bide his time. "You took my birthright from me. My kingdom is dead."

Ceasing his pacing, Frieza inclined his head toward the prince with narrowed eyes. "I have never heard you admit such a truth," he observed. "Perhaps you are now ready for my test."

Vegeta bellowed at the ridiculous statement. "There is no test, you sadistic bastard. I am no fool. Your intent is to kill me through torture or some other indirect method," he declared confidently. "I tire of your games and deception. If you intend to kill me as you have the rest of my race, then complete your genocide, but do not be a coward about it." There was no need to mention the Saiyan that he scented on the woman, but he desperately wanted to.

At the insult, the two guards promptly latched onto the prince's biceps and attempted to shove Vegeta to the ground, but Frieza waved them off.

"Leave us and retrieve what I requested."

After the two subordinates' departure, the prince faced down his old master, summoning every ounce of defiance left in his body. Frieza stared back with curious eyes and a small smile playing on his lips.

"You are wondering why I chose you," the creature mused. When Vegeta didn't respond, Frieza broke out into a grin and stared past the Saiyan as his eyes became glazed over in memory. "Do remember the day you were brought to my ship? It was the first time I truly saw you.

"You were so small for a Saiyan, but I could tell that your heart was larger than most. In your wide, brown eyes I saw something unprecedented. It wasn't feral or brutish like the rest of your people- but strong and proud. Even back then you knew what you were, who you were."

Frieza paused to shake himself out of the past, resuming his unsettling pace around the small cell. "Later, I invited you to crawl into my lap and you did, so trusting despite your recent loss," the creature recalled with mirth. "You shivered against me as we looked out over the graveyard of your people and even through your anguish I could still see your spirit glowing as strong as ever and as I stared down at you, I made up my mind. I was going to make you suffer for daring to defy me with that small shred of hope that your tiny little hands just could not seem to let go of. I was going to kill the very thing that made you special, the thing that drew me to you in the first place."

Unmoved by the declaration, Vegeta grit his teeth. "Then do it. Take me, break me, but do it while looking into my eyes so that I may do what my father could not."

The cell became silent as thick footsteps refused to fall. Frieza was facing away from the prince then, staring through the now darkened window. "I cannot, monkey," he whispered to his opaque reflection. "Even now, I cannot destroy what I helped create."

Furious, Vegeta unleashed a fury of curses, funneling the minute amount of ki in his abdomen into his hands. It wasn't enough to kill or maim, but he couldn't let this grievous insult go unpunished. "Fight me!"

Just as Frieza turned around, the prince made his move, intent on burying his fingers socket-deep in the creature's devious eyes while energy surged through his fingertips. He managed to grab hold of his former master, but just as he pressed his fingers against Frieza's fluttering white lids, a scream pierced the air and the hair on Vegeta's body stood at attention.

Seconds later, the woman was thrown into the cell, bloodied, bruised, and in a shocking state of half-dress. She wore a look of contempt towards her captors but the two guards seemed pleased with themselves.

"As you requested, Lord Frieza."

With a grin, Frieza spiked his ki and sent Vegeta flying through the air and into the wall with surprising force. The prince felt the air leave his body, momentarily rendering him lifeless before his body sucked in a shuddering breath.

When his vision stopped spinning, his eyes took in the sight of Frieza petting the woman's head with soft, gentle strokes.

"Like you, I grew to admire her tenacity, but she too has proven troublesome," the creature explained, glancing down at the woman beneath him. "I caught her sneaking into the private laboratory where she accidentally sprayed herself with the Saiyan musk I had kept for research purposes. When I confronted her, she lied. This one will do anything or say anything to avoid punishment."

At his words, the woman grimaced, her lips curling up into a defiant snarl. Her blue eyes sought Vegeta out, wide in disbelief, and he felt his heart quit beating.

"This one will do anything or say anything to avoid punishment."

The woman had lied to him. There was no other Saiyan, no fallen brother waiting for his prince to save him.

Raditz would never playfully insult him and Nappa would never give him that ridiculous moronic grin ever again.

He should've known that all she had wanted to do was save herself and that she would do it at any cost. All those "encounters" and strange feelings were nothing but crafted experiences designed to make him pliable to her cause. Fitting that such a manipulative bitch belonged to Frieza.

Vegeta now knew that he was truly alone in every sense of the word. With a heavy heart, he picked himself off the ground away and walked back towards the little corner he had claimed as his bed. He cracked his neck and rolled his corded shoulders before facing Frieza once more.

"What do you want me to do about it?" he sneered in distaste. "It is not my fault if you cannot keep your pets in line."

The woman opened her mouth to protest, rising to her shaky feet, but Frieza was quick to respond. "You were right, Monkey. I brought you here to break you. I will not deny that. But I came to the realization that I need you just as you need me. This tenuous relationship between us is what keeps us alive. It is our lifeblood. So if you want a test, then you will receive a test."

Narrowing his eyes, the prince inclined his head towards the woman. "And what of her? Is she to watch my efforts as some sort of penance?"

Frieza cocked his head, smiling, and the action reached his eyes, turning them into tiny dark slits. "I was going to kill her, but she is just like you- angry, calculating, prideful," he explained, eyes roaming over the woman slowly. "I have grown to crave her intellect as I desire your defiance. She will need to be tested as well. Now, come."

The guards near the door immediately unlocked the cell latch and Frieza pranced off, tail swaying with joy. The woman watched him leave before scrambling to her feet and following closely behind, hugging her thin arms around her body. Vegeta stood in the middle of the cell that had become his home, eyeing the door in suspicion.

Should he follow?

Surely now was the moment he would finally face death. The creature was never so forgiving. He had never admitted that he wanted to keep the prince around. Even when he promised the test for the Saiyan to prove his worth, Vegeta had known it was nothing but lip service designed to placate him.

Could it be that by surviving this long, he had indeed proved himself worthy and changed Frieza's mind?

He had been under the creature's care for so long- he had grew into puberty and finally into a man under his shadow. Could it be that Frieza, the cruelest warlord in the universe had grown attached to the small cub he had extorted from the king of all Saiyans?

After some careful thought, Vegeta reluctantly followed the group into the corridor, growing more anxious with every step away from his cell. In a way, he began to miss the consistency of that experience. He knew what to expect inside, but now he was blind and stripped of his faculties.

He was slowly withering away, hungry, dehydrated, and demoralized, but his spirit was still strong. Though the woman had lied to him, he took comfort in the fact that she had been using him to survive.

If the base instinct of survival still existed, then his world was not as skewed as he had thought.

They walked for awhile through small metal corridors that reeked of eroding metal and strong chemicals. Frieza didn't appear concerned that his captives would run- he and the two Ice-jin guards walked ahead of the prince and woman.

Vegeta watched the woman with new eyes, noting the way she observed every inch of the halls, every door and opening. She mumbled to herself and he began to wonder about her current state of sanity.

Frieza led them to an elevator and had to unlock the lift with several biological security measures before the door opened and guards rushed out with ki weapons to identify the visitors. Upon seeing the warlord, the group was cleared for entry and the trip down proved to be tedious.

"Bulma, this facility is known as The Void," Frieza explained, craning his neck towards the woman. "It is a prison facility of my own design for any and all resistance to the Planet Trade Organization. I house the most violent offenders here and decide what is to become of them. Most are used as bodies to fill the ranks for less desirable missions, but the worst I save for quite a different use." With the last words, the creature smirked.

When the elevator continued to descend, Vegeta knew exactly what their destination was and what his test would be.

"Your sending us to The Pit," the prince observed dryly, glaring in the direction of his former master. "This is no test. This is certain death."

Frieza scoffed at the notion and grinned, looking coyly over his shoulder. "It is only death for those who are not worthy."

It was Vegeta's turn to sneer and he did so with great bravado, amused at just how foolish he was to even hope that the creature would spare him due to sentimentality. He leveled a seething gaze toward the woman who looked confused and cleared his throat to get her attention. "She will not survive the trials," he declared, staring right into her quivering blue eyes. For all the trouble she had caused him physically and emotionally, it was a fitting end.

Frieza let out a shrill laugh just as the elevator came to a halt, shifting its occupants inside. "It would be in your best interest for her to survive."

Vegeta growled low in his chest and ripped his eyes away and towards the creature stepping into the prison facility. "Why would I give a fuck whether she lives or dies? What good is she to me?"

The guards stepped behind the captives and forced them out into the brightly lit circular arena, which was surrounded by hundreds of cells stacked from the ground floor and up several floors. Inside them, the prisoners jeered and shouted at the new arrivals, their voices creating a cacophony above the wicked face of Frieza.

The creature didn't respond, instead opening his hands in a wide gesture, splaying his slender fingers wide. "Welcome to The Pit, where the criminals of the PTO fight for their survival," he announced. "The price of freedom is the blood of the fallen. Hundreds are brought here but only one can win the trials. Only one can slay his fellow prisoners and prove his worth. That is…. until now."

Vegeta furrowed his brow and sucked in a breath, but before he could ask for clarification, his right hand was grabbed and forced into a single cuff. When the guards stepped away, the prince followed the metal on his wrist over to its twin which was connected to the woman.

"This year, there shall be two victors. You will fight together or you will die together," Frieza crowed. "I am curious, can brain and brawn coexist? If either one of you should perish, do not expect the other to live much longer. Good luck."

With a flick of the wrist, Frieza motioned for the newly-joined pair to be escorted away, and Vegeta was quick to turn around and face the creature down. This time he held no illusions about his situation. Should he win and survive, the next step was not to sit at Frieza's right hand, but to avenge his people.

With a level gaze and stern voice, the prince made a promise to the creature that had taken everything from him. "When I kill you, I will make certain that every ounce of your blood flows through my fingers as you beg for mercy," he stated with grave confidence. "You will know the true terror of the Saiyan race."

Frieza smiled at the declaration then looked to the woman. "Any final sentiments for me, dear Bulma?"

She shook her head softly, eyes diverted to the ground. "No, Lord Frieza."

Vegeta had to turn away out of disgust. The fact that he would have to keep such a weak bitch alive infuriated him beyond the limits of what he thought possible.

The guards roughly led them away, yanking at their cuffs and positioning ki guns at the back of their necks. The prisoners walked away from their tormentor, never looking back. They were led to their cell, a small iron room with a single bare bed, a basin full of water, and an empty bucket to relieve themselves in.

Once the duo was locked inside, the woman pulled their connected bodies up to the long rusted bars and wrapped a small hand around one.

Vegeta turned his back to her out of spite, but the words that met his ears gave him chills.

"You sick fucker," she whispered heatedly into the air. "You will regret the day you met Bulma Briefs."

Upon hearing the vitriolic statement, the prince glanced over to his new cellmate. She looked back at him with a haggard and beaten face crowned with a mass of knotted blue hair. Her suit was in shreds and her creamy flesh was marred from his former treatments as well as recent abuse. But despite all this, she gave him the most cunning grin he had ever seen grace a being's face.

His eyes grew wide and swallowed hard, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat. "You wanted this to happen," the prince declared incredulously.

She nodded slowly then looked out once more to the arena just past the bars. "You needed to fight and grow stronger. I also needed you alone. I didn't know this place existed, but I had a hunch," she explained, her voice gaining a depth that had eluded him earlier. "And once he figures out I'm gone, he will come for me and we will have the best chance to get out of here."

Vegeta knew he would regret paying her any mind but the way she spoke was mesmerizing. "Who will come for you?"

The woman grinned. "The other of your species. I wasn't lying, no matter how much Frieza wants you to believe that. He has no idea what you or Goku are capable of, but I do."

Startled, the prince watched as she closed her eyes and titled her head as if fresh rain was alighting upon her skin. It was a look of contentment and momentous victory.

Aggravated, Vegeta tugged on their cuffed hands, earning the woman's attention. "Woman, you are insane for playing his game," he sneered, watching as his insult fell flat.

She looked back at him with large eyes whose blue swallowed him whole. "Then that makes us two of a kind then, doesn't it?" she mused dryly. "Two masochists, one goal."

There was no arguing with her sentiment so Vegeta didn't bother trying. Instead he let her stare out into the prison while watching the glint in those eyes shine brighter than the largest star in the dying twilight on Vegeta-sei.