AN: Well, here's the last one in the set. Enjoy.

Cherished Martyr

I can barely contain my amazement; can barely keep my expression schooled and neutral like it's supposed to be. With the beating you've just received you shouldn't even be able to move, let alone stand up; let alone continue to offer defiance. Frieza snarls and you smirk back. Color me thoroughly impressed, Vegeta.

The Icejian's tail lashes out, blindsiding you, and knocking you back to the floor. But you just laugh and sneer, chiding him about his inability to hold his temper. He screams his fury and lashes out at you again, striking you hard across your shoulders. I can hear bones breaking, but you keep on laughing, admonishing him for only proving your point.

You aren't the strongest among us, not by a long shot, but there is something you have that no one else here has: perseverance. The damage you can withstand, the sheer amount of punishment you can take, and the fact that you can do it all with a smile on your face, is something not even Frieza's elite have been shown to be capable of. I could never dream of doing what you are right now. I am not worthy to stand in your presence, let alone watch your torture.

But I have to watch; Frieza loves having an audience, and I was one of the random soldiers selected to form it this time. Most of us don't want to be here, but most for the same different reason; these little… sessions… he has with you are quite a regular thing, and previous witnesses who talked about it quickly turned up missing. Any fool would know that that is your doing, Vegeta. Your pride is infamous, after all; you won't let any slight against it go unpunished if you can help it. But don't worry; I'm sure by now we all know to keep our silence.

Frieza's finished with you now, it seems. He has taken a step back from you and has closed his eyes, focusing all of his effort into calming his breathing. You seem to be using this reprieve to catch your breath too from the looks of it. That condescending smirk now looks a little more pained than it did a moment ago, though you stubbornly continue to hold it.

Yes, Frieza's done for now; he turns his back and walks away, casually ordering someone in the room to bring you to medical. I'm not sure what makes me rush forward to comply, I'd likely just be making myself a target to you, but I do. I reach you first, and no one else approaches; to be expected I suppose. In fact, they've all started to leave the room as well; I remain unsurprised by all this.

You glare balefully up at me as I gingerly lift your injured body, but I submissively avert my gaze. You hiss out a long string of curses through your clenched teeth, but I choose to ignore them. I hope my gestures of deference are apparent to you, or at least will be apparent once you get a chance to reevaluate what happened here today. I don't want you as an enemy, Vegeta.

I want to tell you that, I want to tell you that so badly. I want to tell you how much I admire your stamina and determination. I want to tell you how I am not worthy of standing in your presence, let alone aiding you to the infirmary. But I know I can't, not now and not ever; I know how much you hate sycophants and how they remind you too much of those Frieza keeps closest to him. In the end it seems that admiring you from afar is all I can do. And so my worship will be silent.

You curse at me and struggle halfheartedly as I take you to medical. I don't respond or meet your glare. You have earned the right to think whatever you want of me, you who has endured the most abuse of us all. You who never breaks, you who always fights his rule, you who has unknowingly become a martyr for us all. No one is worthy of such a creature. I no longer care about me.

Less than a month later, Vegeta cornered and killed him, as well as all the other witnesses to that torture. And he never dwelled on the fact that one of his victims refused to defend himself.