Disclaimer: Uh-uh. Sorry.

Warning: There is YAOI, so if you no likeies, no readies, and no flameies without serious reason concerning my writing skills.

His mind was different. No one could ever possibly understand the pain he endured every waking moment. The pain he thrived in. His soul had always been dark and tainted from the day he was born. Violence in the most gruesome form was all he knew. His father encouraged it, and so he was brought up to think that the misery he wrought, and the civilizations he demolished were wonderful, so long as he could make his father proud.

He hated his father.

Paragus always wanted something from him. Control. Power. Strength – he was a tool. He'd heard the story, of how he'd been sentenced to death due to his frightening power. He knew how daddy dearest had fought and begged for him to be spared. Maybe, for a while, he had meant something more. He had been a son. He'd been something to cherish and love as a sentient being. But not for long.

He witnessed how Paragus would kill people. Snicker and call them weak. If that pleased him, he could satisfy his own blood lust, and do his only relative proud.

He knew that the second he began to kill more, to drag the deaths out, to enjoy it, that his father had become afraid of him. That fear manifested into indifference. Indifference allowed him to plot and scheme. To see Brolly as nothing more than a means to an end, even if he was the justification in the first place. But, once he began to breathe in the death and chaos, he became intoxicated. Addicted. He couldn't stop.

He'd once adored his father. But he had slaughtered the adoration the night before.

Flashback...

He'd rested peacefully in the bed of some long forgotten person in some long forgotten town on some long forgotten planet. Dreams of his life thus far flitted across his closed lids. He'd been thinking lately...when he was about to kill a family of some sort, they would cling to one another for comfort – and while that was normally quite amusing, he wondered what it would be like for his father to "hug" him? He imagined warm feelings, and suddenly had a strong urge and tightening in his chest to be held like a cub once again. He was nearing his seventeenth year, but he was curious. What would it be like if his father was more open, and more affectionate? They were all they had, surely that would mean that some traditions would be let go of, right?

Regardless, Paragus had become very wary of his son. That was why he'd forced a scientist to craft a device for him to control him. Not so much his power as his emotions – the trigger of his power. Brolly would become cold and gelid, with no expression or life to him. A puppet for his father. Mindless. Or so he thought.

Brolly had heard him when he spoke softly to himself. His eyes cracked open with sleep hanging off them. "Father...?" They both started. Paragus pinned his son to place the band on his forehead. Brolly squirmed and fought, but the craft connected with him. However, that was not all it took. The saiyan boy threw the man off of him, and immediately transformed. Betrayal was what he felt, but only a cruel smirk crept across his features as confusion and hurt shone in his eyes. Before he could get much closer, Paragus turned his palm towards him, and a soft emerald glow engulfed him.

He could feel himself being pushed under water, drowning him and his control. His emotions were ripped from him, and locked within a stone chest in the darkest corner of his heart.

Now he stood, seething on the inside and unable to make contact with his emotions. He knew what he felt and thought, but was unable to actually experience it.

And thus, we're brought back to that single sentence: He hated his father.

Paragus had some elaborate plan for revenge. Revenge which Brolly didn't care about. King Vegeta was dead along with their planet, but his son, the prince still lived. He was under Frieza, and while he was surely suffering a great deal knowing who the tyrant was, Paragus wanted to kill him himself. Which led them to their current location, on one of many base planets for the lizard's army. They were there to "offer" their services.

"Names?" the soldier asked.

"I am Paragus, and this is my son, Brolly." With a flamboyant sweep of his arm, Paragus marched towards the armored alien. "Simply killing mere civilians isn't enough for us. Only more destruction will satisfy our saiyan bloodlust."

"Saiyan!"

"Why yes. I hear that our young prince leads a squad under Lord Frieza. We would be honored to join."

The soldier tapped his scouter twice. "Follow me." Through the winding corridors they went until they arrived at some type of holding cell. Said soldier left hastily to report his findings to Lord Frieza.

Brolly stared blankly ahead. He didn't move an inch as someone came in to announce that they would be fitted with armor and sent to Frieza's ship.

All he knew was his lost rage.

"My, my… It seems the galaxy is just crawling with the straggling saiyans, wouldn't you agree, Vegeta?"

The teenager masked his contempt and nodded. "Yes, Lord."

"What with that brother of Raditz and now these two – speaking of which, I've yet to receive an update in a while. Do tell me how Kakarot is adjusting. I hope he hasn't been too much of a handful now." Frieza swirled his glass of wine, snickering, and carefully studied the prince.

"He improves each day. Raditz has taken him under his wing, so to speak." His lips were tight with mistrust.

"Oh, brotherly love," he drawled in a sickeningly sweet voice, chuckling. "And tell me how that earthling whore I gave you is? I assume she relieves some stress from your busy schedule."

"Yes, Lord Frieza," he answered tersely.

Two years ago, Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz had been assigned to purge Earth. Such a boring task was punishment for some imperfect work. When they had arrived, they killed everyone lazily. They had come upon a bright yellow building in the center of a city to find a tailed boy guarding a blue-haired girl while tears streaked her face.

Raditz had called him brother (in a questioning tone of course) and things hadn't improved much from there. The girl had appeared to be intelligent – something Vegeta could not pass up. After much fuss, fighting, and screaming, the two were knocked out. Raditz somehow crammed his younger brother into his pod with him, and Vegeta was forced to ride with the girl.

Frieza had decided to let the saiyan prince keep his finds. The girl was to become his sex slave, and Kakarot a member of his squad. Her name was Bulma, and within those two years he had grown a sort of attachment to her. He'd yet to so much as touch her without her permission, save for a few tense threats early on. After witnessing the life he lived and meeting Frieza firsthand, she over time developed a strong respect for him, going so far as to consider him a friend. And while he scoffed at the notion, he didn't totally deny he felt better around her.

Of course, she'd absolutely despised him for a long time. He'd hated her. Eventually they gave up, unable to live in the same quarters with such stressful tense. They sort of grew on each other. Of course, Kakarot was the only third person that was aware of their reluctant friendship.

Kakarot was more complicated. He had to go with them on purging trips to slaughter people, no matter how alien looking they were. He'd panic, and try to help them, and soon the demolition began to eat away at him. Despite previous circumstances, he'd grown close to Raditz, who begrudgingly returned some of the affection when there were no prying eyes around. If not for the comfort of his elder brother, Bulma, and guidance of Vegeta, he would have killed himself within the first month.

The beatings made things no better for him. His poor performance did not go unnoticed by Frieza, and he was tortured for it. And since he was Vegeta's subordinate, Vegeta was in turn beaten even more harshly. After six or so weeks of this, Vegeta had had enough. Kakarot had not known the repercussions of his actions, being that Vegeta was too stubborn to admit he was humiliated, and that he had assumed the injuries were sustained in training.

He got better at the killing. He got better at shutting it all out. He did not get better, however, at hiding his emotions and disgust. That had become his greatest weakness.

He entered his shared quarters to find him sitting on the scratchy cot he called a bed. He stared absently at the floor, his chest plate discarded on the other side of the small room. Raditz sighed. To be truthful, he'd grown rather fond of his long lost little brother, despite his first rejection of his heritage. While he had been fairly weak, he adapted and learned new techniques. His power level had risen in the past two years from a mere 300 to 2,000 – just 1,000 less than his.

"Kakarot, you can't keep doing this." He sat next to his kin and folded his hands in his lap.

"I know but, I hate this. I hate killing innocent people. I hate that Bulma can't experiment and learn anymore. I hate that there's no more reason to anything I do." He bit down on his lip, drawing blood.

Raditz sighed again. "I know things are bad. I've been here a lot longer than you have. I've seen what these people are capable of. Before we found you, I thought I was just like them – but you showed me that I have more potential than that. I've become stronger because of you, little brother. And there is reason." He paused, demanding his brother's eye contact. "To survive. To come back and one day claim our revenge. Face it, if we weren't the ones to kill people, Frieza would just send someone else. It's better that they die by the hands of someone with honor like yours. Think about it."

Goku faced him for a moment before hugging him tightly. It was a gesture that was still unfamiliar to Raditz, but he couldn't say it was one he didn't appreciate from time to time. "Hey, Raditz?"

He knew that pleading tone. "Again?" he asked with faked exasperation.

"Please…?"

"Fine. Now shove over." Kakarot made room for him on the cot and wrapped himself around his brother. "You know if anyone ever finds out about this, we'll probably be tortured for having weakness."

"I sleep easier with someone next to me."

"Whatever."

The next morning, all of Vegeta's squad was called into Frieza's throne room to meet the new recruits. Paragus and Brolly. The prince had heard of them before. They'd been sentenced to death by his father. Brolly for his unnaturally high power level of 10,000 on the day of his birth, and Paragus for treason. He had a feeling that the man wasn't glad to see him.

Oh shit was he right.

Kakarot and Brolly locked eyes. Frieza was going on about how they were supposed to train them and stuff, but Kakarot was transfixed. Never, had he seen eyes so dark and empty. They seemed to be frozen in a silent scream, as though he were living with an unbearable burden and pain every day.

He decided in that moment, that he would figure out what had happened to him, and help him.

Brolly, on the other hand, had never seen such innocence. Never such kindness, such hope, such passion. Everything he was feeling – it was written clear as day in his eyes. He knew his own to be cold and dead, and found himself envying the other saiyan. What justice was there that he could have his emotions, parade them, flaunt them, while his were gone. Locked away. Untouchable. What fairness was that cruelty?

He decided that he would hate Kakarot, even though he had no anger to do such a thing.

But that decision was a start.

Author's Note: So… I know that this is an unusual couple, but I really like it and I hope that I will be able to provide character development and stuff to justify and portray why it just works. Sorry, no Chichi, no adultery. Review please!

~Wilted Passion