Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Understanding ( Chapter 26 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men. Oh, and fictional alien men having babies...'cause that's a'happen' here folks...



Trunks pushed open the window when he felt the approaching ki and stepped aside when Goten appeared.

“What are you doing?” he asked the younger boy, helping him though.

“Dude, we need to talk,” Goten mumbled. Trunks’ brow creased in confusion.

“You’re soaking wet. Why did you have to fly all the way over here in the rain?”

Goten turned his dark eyes to the other, his damp hair partially hiding their gaze.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he asked. “You sure there is nothing you want to tell me?”

Trunks frowned as he thought. When his brain finally made sense out of Goten’s questions, his features softened and he blushed.

“I’m sorry, Goten,” he spoke honestly. “I would have said something, but two things kept me from doing so.”

“And they are?” Goten asked, pulling the soaked shirt over his head and let it fall into a soggy heap on top of the hamper.

“For one, that was your father’s news to share.” Trunks began.

“Well it’s been shared!” Goten exclaimed, kicking his pants off and pulling a pair of sleep pants from Trunks’ dresser. “He told me he’s...he’s...fuck, I don’t know. Havin’ a baby or some shit like that!” Goten shook his head and dropped himself onto the older teen’s bed. He stared blankly at the ceiling. “...and that he’s keeping it, I think...” he added quietly.

Trunks sat down next to his friend.

“I know. He and my dad fought about it this afternoon.” Trunks sighed as he remembered the incident and how shocked he was at his own father’s behavior. “Dad’s pretty angry about the whole thing...”

“Well no shit, Sherlock,” Goten grumbled. “Wouldn’t you be? I mean, gods, what happened up there? I think I’m gonna be sick! Why would my dad want to be constantly reminded of having to...to...fuck.” the younger Saiyan had meant his final word to be an exclamation and not a verb. His skin blushed hotly from the poor choice.

The two sat in an awkward silence until Trunks cleared his throat.

“Your dad is taking a bad situation and trying to turn it into a good one.” he reasoned. “Don’t you know how horrible your dad would feel if he knew that he had aborted the life of his own child?” Goten glared up at him through his still damp bangs. Trunks shook his head and turned away. “Regardless of what you think, that’s what it is. Our dads’ child. Same as you....same as me...”

Goten continued to scowl as he turned his attention back to the ceiling. He didn’t like the feeling of helplessness that this situation placed him in.

“What was the second?”

Trunks raised an eyebrow at Goten’s question.

“What?”

“The second thing that kept you for telling me. What was it?”

“Oh.” Trunks stood from the bed and crossed to the window. He stared a moment out into the dark evening sky before speaking. “I’m worried about my dad. We had a long talk this afternoon. Some of it bad...” He smiled, his memory this time showing a more favorable portrayal of his father’s character. “…Some really nice...” He turned back to his friend as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest. “But I left him a few hours ago, and he said he would be back shortly. He was hurt...I should probably go looking for him.”

“I wouldn’t,” Goten replied, pulling himself into a sitting position. Trunks’ eyes reflected his unasked question. “Your dad probably wants to be alone right now. Hell, he probably needs to be alone right now. There ain’t no amount of hurt that is going to put him in any serious jeopardy.” Goten narrowed his eyes. “Unless you think he will hurt himself?”

Trunks shook his head and turned back to look out into the night.

“No,” he spoke softly. “My mom said once that he promised never to do anything like that...again...”

“How is your mom taking this, by the way?” Goten inquired. “My dad say’s mine is being supportive.” He gave a grunting laugh. “I guess she is, anyway.”

Trunks refrained from commenting on Mrs. Son, instead focusing on Goten’s original question.

“My mom seems fine, I guess. A little distracted. I think she might be too focused on how my dad is feeling to be able to think about how she feels about it. I don’t know. My mom loves kids….”

“Kids...” Goten echoed, smirking. “My dad and your dad’s kid...canyabelieveit....” He ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair. “I freakin’ hate this...” He sighed.

“It doesn’t really matter what we think,” Trunks told him, but not without kindness in his tone. “This is something that is harder on them than us. I want my dad to know that I am here for him.”

“What, you’re there to help him cope with a situation that he has no say in? No decision about?” Goten scoffed. Trunks frowned.

“That’s a little harsh,” he snapped.

“But true.” Goten challenged. “You tell me what say he had in the matter. Shit Trunks, he’s your own father.”

“I know that!” Trunks replied, hotly. “You think I haven’t thought about that? But believe me, my dad has enough eating away at him without adding the burden of killing an innocent life.” Trunks normally bright eyes seemed to dim with bitterness. “Unless you want to tell me again that you think my dad is a monster?”

Goten rolled his eyes and made an annoyed sounding rasp in his throat.

“I never said that your dad was a monster. I just said he was different, that’s all.” Goten eyed Trunks’ tense posture. He mumbled the rest of his statement, rolling onto the bed, facing away from his friend. “Ya know I love your dad….”

Trunks relaxed, but there was still a serious note to his voice.

“Goten, you do know that this will be okay, right?”

Goten lay quiet a moment as he considered.

“I can only hope it does. I’m not a Kai...”

Trunks sighed, moving to the bed and pushing the other boy over to one side.

“You’re not staying, are you?” he asked in mock disgust.

“Naw, I don’t mind if you stay!” Goten exclaimed. “I mean, this is your house after all!”

Trunks laughed.

“Don’t you think your parents might care?”

“I think my parents might have bigger things on their minds right now,” he replied simply. Trunks lay down next to the younger teen and was quiet a moment as he thought.

Goten was right, in a way. There was a lot about this situation that was infuriating and unfair…okay, most of it was. But there couldn’t be any changing it, only easing the pain of it. Being angry wasn’t going to make this go away. Not for Goten. Not for his father, either.

His mind wandered onto what his father could be doing at this very moment. Wherever he was, Trunks hoped that he was okay.


Vegeta felt safe. He felt warm. He snuggled into the softness that enveloped him, his tail flicking happily back and forth.

“There, there, my handsome prince,” a woman’s quiet voice beckoned to him. Vegeta’s ears perked up at the address, but he remained calm and sedate in the cradling embrace. “You’ve had quite a day today, hm?” the voice continued. “Incredible power makes one incredibly tired?”

A laugh broke the soothing quiet, deep and loud.

“Then he should sleep for days.” The new voice was familiar in its pitch, but strange in its manner. “He is the legendary, to be sure.”

Vegeta felt a tail entwine with his own in gesture of affection. A large hand pressed to his forehead before smoothing the hair off his brow and ruffling his already unruly mane.

“The pride of the Saiyans,” the deep voice announced. The female voice made a noise of agreement.

“The pride of my heart....”


Vegeta sucked in a gasping breath as he bolt upright. His eyes blinked in his surroundings, the steady rain pressing his hair down, obscuring his view.

He was still in the middle of the woods, and only Kami knew what hour of the night it was. His chest ached as he pulled his weary form from the ground to stand upright.

His clothing was soaked clear through and clung uncomfortably in many uncomfortable places. He thought of flaring his ki to evaporate the moisture, but knew it would be pointless as long as he were outdoors. He knew he should have returned home long ago, but he hadn’t counted on falling asleep. Exhaustion had seemed to get the better of him, and now he longed to be back where it was dry and warm.

The feeling of safety and contentment from his dream had already slipped from his mind, but increased his longing to capture it in his waking state. He clutched at the pain in his chest as he blasted off the earth and took to the sky for home. He was unsure of the welcome he would get, but he needed to be there, regardless of how he was received.

The entire compound was dark. Vegeta flew past the main entrance to the back of the building, dropping on the balcony outside of the room he shared with his wife. Testing the latch, he found it to be unlocked and quietly moved inside.

He was soundless, but did not go unnoticed.

“Do you know what time it is?”

Bulma’s voice was a harsh whisper and cut through the silence like a gunshot.

“Very late,” he replied, stopping in his tracks just inside to door to remove his boots.

Bulma snapped on the bedside lamp and could not stop the gasp that escaped her lips upon seeing him. He looked worse than when she saw him last, his hair wet and clinging to his skin, his clothing disheveled and muddy.

“Where have you been?” she asked, trying not to let his sorry state quash her anger.

“Away. I fell asleep....or I would have returned sooner.”

Bulma watched him without another word as he stripped his clothing and disappeared into the bathroom. She gathered his things and deposited them into the laundry bin, hearing the water in the shower start up. She moved to the night stand and opened the drawer, rifling through the contents until she came upon the item she sought. Snapping up the tiny senzu bean that had been left over from his return home, she clasped it in her palm and sat on the side of the bed, waiting.

Vegeta returned shortly to the room, clean and dry, but not looking any less haggard. Bulma could tell by the shuddering movements of his chest as he inhaled that he was in a bit of pain.

“Here,” she instructed, pushing the bean to his lips. “Eat this.”

Vegeta pursed his lips and pulled his head away like a obstinate infant as he tried to get a look at what it was exactly she was offering.

“It’s a senzu,” she explained, irritated. “Eat it.”

Vegeta sighed, surrendering to her will and letting her slip the healing bean past his lips. He let the small legume roll over his tongue as he considered its magic restorative properties. It was so much easier to handle guilt when he felt the punishing sting of pain.

“Eat it.” Bulma reiterated, for the last time, watching him chew and swallow, his breathing returning to its normal, even depth. “Feeling better?” she asked.

Vegeta smirked in annoyance but gave a short nod. Not a second after receiving his answer, Bulma pulled back her arms and shoved her Saiyan husband in the chest, as hard as she could. He barely swayed from the force.

“What was that for?” he growled.

“It’s the only fucking thing you seem to understand!” she yelled at him. “What the hell did you think you were doing today! You could have hurt somebody!”

“Don’t you think I know that! At the time, it was my intention!” he retorted.

“And what was the big idea taking off with Trunks? You had me worried half to death!” Vegeta looked at her stern posture, arms folded across her chest and mouth pulled in a thin line.

“Didn’t the boy return?” he asked, at the same moment searching the house for the child’s ki. He had indeed returned, and was sleeping soundly.

Bulma’s stance softened, her lips quivering between a state of smiling and frowning.

“Yes,” she whispered. “He told me what you said to him.” Vegeta would have normally gave a snapping comment about the boy’s inability to keep one’s confidence, but he remained silent. “Vegeta, that made me so proud...” Her statement seemed to spark her memory of why he had taken the child from the compound to begin with. “However,” she continued with a fierce scowl, “what you did to Goku has totally pissed me off!”

Vegeta sighed.

“Let us not speak of Kakkarot, please,” he spoke, moving past her to the bed.

“How could you do that to him, Vegeta?” she continued, ignoring his plea. “How could you?”

“I just could,” he replied shortly, sitting on the side of the bed. Bulma threw out her arms in exasperation.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself? Huh? ‘Cause that is the lamest fucking answer I have ever heard! Vegeta.” She grabbed hold of his arms and looked into his eyes. “Goku is my best friend. I am not going to let you make me choose between you two. I am going to continue to love you both, and you are just going to have to accept it. Accept that I love you both.” She shook him in her frustration. “I love you, damnit!”

Vegeta let her purge her emotion, hoping that in some small way it helped her to release her anger on him. He deserved it.

“You have done a lot of hideous things in the time that I have known you, but this is by far the worst!” Her blue eyes sparkled from a mix of anger and tears as she yelled at him. “And I want so bad to smack the shit out of you, and at the same time I feel guilty about that because you are hurting, too! I want so badly to be able to help you, to be able to comfort you, but I can’t....” She shook her head sadly. “You’re too damn proud.”

Vegeta slipped his arms around her waist and dropped his head against her chest.

“Then comfort me now, woman,” he murmured, his voice haggard and tired. “For I have no pride today.”

Bulma was momentarily stunned by his words. It was a rare occasion that Vegeta voiced regret for his actions. He must truly be in pain.

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her body. Her hand traveled lightly over his hair and down the uneven landscape of his scarred back. She was still furious with him over his treatment of Goku. She should continue to yell and scream and slap at him. But she couldn’t...she loved him too greatly and made too many excuses for his behavior. She knew there had to be some reason that he did the things that he did...

“You need to sleep, baby...” she told him, pulling away from him. Vegeta stood, discarding the towel around his hips and slid into bed. Bulma lay down behind him, returning her arms around him and holding him tightly. There was silence between them for a moment. “Vegeta...” she began tentatively. “I...I think that you owe Goku an apology...”

She felt the shiver that traveled through him at her words.

“I don’t think he would care to hear it, if I had one to make,” he replied.

She didn’t press the issue. She simply snuggled closer, laying a gentle kiss on the back of his neck.

Vegeta didn’t have time to mull over her words. Within moments of settling into her embrace, he was back in a soundless sleep.


Bulma could not believe it; when she woke the next morning, Vegeta was still sleeping beside her. Usually she woke up alone, the spot next to her long since cooled from the warmth that had once been by her side. There were only a handful of times that she could recall his staying next to her the entire night.

Propping her head up on her hand, she looked down into his face. His normally severe features were softened with the calm of sleep, his mouth relaxed from its usual scowl. Bulma ran her fingertips across his hairline, trailing them over his temple and down his cheek. Vegeta blinked, opening his eyes halfway to look at her.

“Good morning,” she greeted, quietly.

Vegeta’s brow creased in confusion as he looked from her, to the window, to the clock beside the bed. It was eight a.m.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked. Vegeta gave a heavy sigh, closing his eyes again.

“Like the dead,” was his groggy reply. He rolled over onto his side, pulling Bulma against him and resting his head against her chest. Bulma lazily ran her fingers through his hair.

“Do you want to sleep in?” she asked, laying a small kiss on his forehead. Vegeta was quiet a moment, and she almost believed him to be already asleep.

“No,” he replied gruffly, pulling away from her. “I think that I have had enough sleep as it is.”

“Well, I will go downstairs and see if anyone has started the bots on breakfast. You’ll join us, right?”

Vegeta shrugged in a noncommittal way and left the room for the adjoining bath. Bulma sighed at his response.

Bulma grabbed her house robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on as she stepped into the hallway. She could hear voices coming from the first floor as she headed downstairs to the kitchen.

“Trunks, I can do it!” Bulla was stating in a loud voice. “I want to do it!” Trunks responded to her demand in a hushed tone.

“Quiet, Bulla! You’ll wake Mom and Dad!”

“Too late,” Bulma told them as she entered the dining room. Goten was sitting at the table while Trunks and Bulla stood inside the kitchen playing tug-of-war with one of the domestic bots.

“Good morning, Mom,” Trunks greeted, letting go of the metal droid, causing Bulla to stumble backward. “We didn’t wake you, did we?”

“Nope. It was time to get up anyway,” she cheerfully replied. “What are you three up to? Goten, I didn’t even know you were here.”

“Just visiting!” Goten smiled. Bulma sat down in the chair beside him. She noticed that he was wearing clothing that belonged to her son.

“Do your parents know that you are here?” she asked.

“I called them this morning. I don’t think they mind.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.

“Well, whichever one of you is programming the bots this morning might want to hurry. Your papa will be down soon, and I think that he will want to eat.”

Happily, Bulla selected the desired foods for their breakfast from the robot’s computer and sent it flying back into the kitchen to prepare the meal. She then took her seat next to Goten, grinning up at him.

“Grandma and Grandpa were just finished eating when we came down,” Trunks spoke to his mother as he too joined them at the table, setting a pitcher of milk at the center. “They said they were heading into the city for some shopping. I think Grandpa was picking up the computer parts from the big lab in the city, and Grandma thought it was a shopping excursion. She even forced Daikkon to join them.”

“Well, then I guess that means you and I will be busy for the next couple of days placing the new parts,” his mother replied. “I would get any having fun you had in mind out of the way today.”

“I didn’t have any where in particular to go,” Trunks told her, shrugging. “I was hoping to spend it...around here...”

“We could go to the movies, Trunks,” Bulla piped up. “Right, Goten?”

“Sorry, squirt,” Goten told her, giving her a smile even though she frowned. “I think I need to hang out around my house. I think Trunks has things he wants to do here at your house.” Trunks looked up at Goten and smiled at him. Bulla brushed her teal hair from her shoulder and grinned at the youngest Son.

“We could go without Trunks, Goten,” she told him in a sweet voice. “You could take me to the movies, if you want.”

Goten gave the pre-teen an amused look but did not get to comment. Vegeta entered the room, and all eyes turned to him.

“Morning, Papa,” Trunks greeted. Vegeta inclined his head in a short nod, sitting down at Bulma’s side.

“Good morning, Uncle Vegeta.” Goten added, catching the prince’s eye. Vegeta looked at the young man for a moment, noting the empathy in his eyes.

“Good morning,” he returned, gruffly.

The kitchen bots came speeding into the room then, setting out large platters of food. Vegeta watched with a furrowed brow as each plate was placed on the table.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, ignoring Bulma’s muffled laughter.

“It’s breakfast!” Bulla announced cheerfully as she reached for a piece of powdered sugar and syrup covered French toast. Vegeta made a disgusted grunt as he examined the other dishes, each one just as sweet and syrupy as the first. The only thing that looked remotely appealing to him was the scrambled eggs.

“Here, honey,” Bulma told him, stifling her giggles as she loaded his plate with eggs. “Eat these, and I will program the bots to make you something more fit for.....a carnivore.”

Vegeta grimaced, but made no further comment. The four of them ate in silence until the meal was completed.

“So,” Bulla hopped from her chair and addressed Goten as he stood. “You want to take me to the movies?”

“I don’t know if your dad would let me, kiddo,” he told her, glancing at Vegeta. The look he received in return told him that he might be right. “Maybe some other time, when we can all go together.”

“I can go, can’t I, Papa?” Bulla asked her father, trying not to pout, as she knew he despised it. “Goten will take care of me.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Vegeta told her, earning looks of surprise from the two young teens as well as his wife. “But I have something that I need you to do today.”

Bulla groaned and slid back into her chair. Goten seemed to be glowing with pride.

“I need to be gettin' home anyway, squirt," Goten told the pouting princess. "I'll catch ya later, Trunks. Thanks for the grub, Aunt B." Bulma smiled at him.

"Anytime, Goten." she laughed. Goten smiled back at her but his expression slightly sobered as he turned to Vegeta. "Can I have a word with you, privately, Uncle?” he asked.

Vegeta nodded and stood, following the boy into the next room. Goten walked to the front door and stopped, turning to the older Saiyan before speaking.

“My dad told me about what happened,” he began. Vegeta felt his heart stop beating as he waited for the youth to continue. “I’m really sorry that it had to happen... that things worked out this way.” Vegeta could sense the discomfort in the boy’s tone, and thoughts of his own began to fade. “If I could have kept them from taking Bulla in the first place, this might not have all happened. I -”

Vegeta silenced him by placing a hand on Goten’s shoulder.

“Never let that thought into your mind again, do you hear me?” he spoke sternly in a hushed tone. “We cannot change what has occurred. Your actions were nothing but valiant.”

“But Uncle,” Goten replied, keeping his voice lowered as well, “you can’t really agree with my dad’s -”

Vegeta again cut his statement short.

“Your father makes the decisions that he must. It is pointless to explore any other. Go home now, Goten.” Vegeta’s mouth turned down slightly, and he forced out his final words. “He will be needing the support of his family.”

Goten looked shocked by what Vegeta had said, but he nodded in agreement before turning from the house. Vegeta stood rooted to the spot in the living room, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He waited a moment, collecting his nerve before turning back to the kitchen to join his family.

“What do you need me to do today, Papa?” Bulla pouted, slumped in her chair. Vegeta rested his hand atop of her aqua locks as he spoke.

“I will tell you later. For now, you can do as you please. Trunks,” he addressed his oldest child, “come with me.”

Bulma had to bite her tongue to not ask where he was taking the boy. Trunks did not look at all concerned as he followed his father into the back yard.

“How are your injuries?” Trunks asked him once they were outside in the yard.

“Healed,” Vegeta replied shortly. “Let’s walk.”

Trunks nodded and fell into step beside his father as they set out across the large expanse of Capsule Corp.’s grounds. They were quiet a while, enjoying the silence and one another’s company. When they crested a large hill on the west lot of the compound, Vegeta motioned for the younger Saiyan to sit.

“You asked a question of me last night,” Vegeta began, settling into the grass beside him. “I have an answer for you.”

“I don’t want you to talk about anything that might bother you, Papa,” Trunks told him. “I’m sorry that I ever doubted you.”

Vegeta shook his head.

“It’s forgotten. I hope to not repeat my mistake again.” Trunks looked critically at his father, who stared out into the cloudless blue sky. “I did not grow up with the most positive of role models for a father,” Vegeta continued with a hint of bitterness in his tone. “I don’t know why I would do the same to my own children.”

“Father,” Trunks began, but Vegeta raised a hand.

“I won’t hear your attempts to reassure me on the matter. I can admit my own shortcomings as a parent.” He turned to the boy and gave a weak smile. “I just hope that I can learn from them.” Vegeta looked back out into the sky and continued to speak before he lost his nerve. He had faced down some of the most powerful forces of the universe, but never felt as ill-prepared and inadequate compared to how he felt at this moment, speaking to his only son. “I put many expectations on your shoulders, Trunks. Without reason or explanation, and I expected you to fulfill them. Just as my own father had done to me. I have never told you how proud I am of all that you have achieved and accomplished on your own, and for that I am truly sorry.”

“Dad, you don’t have to -” Trunks tried to speak. Vegeta warned him into silence.

“Do not interrupt me, boy.” Trunks looked down at the ground. Vegeta frowned as he started in on his story again. “I tell your mother that I am not cut out to be a father because I feel that it is the truth. Not because I do not care for you and your sister, mind you, but because it is one job at which I am ill-equipped. My father did not care for me; I do not know how to show you that I care for you.”

“You showed that you cared, Papa,” Trunks told him quietly, hoping to get to finish his sentiment this time. “You showed us in your own way, like Mom says. I was just not sensitive enough to see.” Trunks was startled by the laughter that emerged from his father.

“That you would blame yourself for my shortcomings to spare my feelings shows the depth of your character, Trunks,” he told the boy. “I do not deserve such generosity. I have not done one deed that would warrant such a reward.” Vegeta’s voice turned harsh as he continued, his tone bordering on anger. “I have done nothing but evil without thought or remorse. I am not a man worthy of your reverence.”

Trunks felt pity tightening around his heart at his father’s words. Goku had been right the day before, when he had told his father that the person whom he had hated was himself. Vegeta, once past his ego and pride, appeared to despise himself.

“Dad, I find that hard to believe,” Trunks told him, gaining an arched eyebrow in response. “If you were so bad, are so bad, explain to me how Mom fell in love with you and continues to love you still?” Vegeta grimaced.

“Your mother is one of the universe’s great mysteries...” he replied.

“Yeah? Then how about explaining why you stay with us? Why take care of us? Why admit to me that you care at all?”

Vegeta stared at the lavender haired youth in a way that made Trunks feel as if he would again be called a “know-it-all brat”. Trunks smiled.

“I will accept that you think you are not perfect, but anything else I refuse. My mother is a genius. She made a good choice. You may not think you are the best father, but you are my father.” Trunks clasped his hands in his lap, looking to his side at his dad. “And I am grateful for that. This day alone makes up for anything you regret leaving unsaid.”

Vegeta’s face was serious, his eyes dark and hard to read.

“But there is so much that has been unsaid between us, son. Things that as your father it was my duty to say.”

Trunks blushed and looked out at the horizon.

“If you mean, like, about sex and stuff, I learned that in health class...”

Vegeta gave a snort of amusement.

“That is not exactly what I meant” he said. “And I doubt that there is any useful information on the subject that can be learned in a class.” Trunks hung his head to hide his smile. “But yes, I suppose that is something which it was my place to tell you about and not some moron human who thinks himself a great teacher. You are only half human after all....” Vegeta’s look of mirth began to fade. “But it would seem there are things about Saiyans that I myself have been ignorant of....I had no idea about...” He looked to his son with a mixture of apprehension and unease. “You...you and Goten aren’t...”

All of the color drained from Trunks’ face in a matter of seconds, his response nothing more than a breath.

“...no...”

His cheeks were now stained a brilliant red, and he shook his head for emphasis. Vegeta shrugged. After a moment, the older Saiyan spoke again.

“Not that it matters, mind you....”

Trunks felt a new wave of crimson color his face, but he declined to comment.

The two Saiyans sat, sharing a companionable silence for some time. Both were consumed by their own thoughts and feelings, neither sure how or when to voice them.

Trunks took a deep breath and turned to his father.

“You’re not still angry with Uncle Goku, are you?” he asked.

Vegeta’s eye twitched from the very mention of the other Saiyan, and he sighed.

“I’m not sure if ‘angry’ quite covers how I feel,” he replied with honesty. “He and I will never see eye to eye on any matter, I’m afraid. We are two different beings.”

Trunks turned his father’s words over in his mind before speaking quietly.

“That’s not exactly true, Papa,” he began, drawing Vegeta’s attention. “You have worked together for a collective goal before, albeit grudgingly. This instance is no different. You wanted to protect Bulla and Goten. You accomplished that. Just because you don’t agree on every matter does not mean you are complete opposites.”

Vegeta scowled at the young man’s comparison.

“Kakkarot and I are polar opposites. There are no qualities that he possesses that are also present in me.”

Trunk shook his head in response.

“Untrue again. You both possess courage, strength, determination, honor, an unbreakable will and an overwhelming desire to protect your families. Dad, you and Uncle Goku may be more alike that you want to admit, but you are more alike, fundamentally, than you are different.”

Vegeta made an unamused grunt in his throat.

“I am nothing like Kakkarot.”

Trunks sighed and turned back again to the blue sky. Faint wisps of snow white clouds were beginning to sail past overhead.

“I think you might be mistaking the man that you are for the man that you were, Dad.” Vegeta raised an eyebrow as Trunks continued to speak. “Mom says you are quite different now than when she first met you.”

Vegeta considered that statement for a moment. It was true, at least in some small measure. He had changed at some point during his time on Earth. It had been a slow transformation, so gradual that he couldn’t place exactly when it had happened. Could the boy be right?

“Well, I didn’t bring you out here to talk about Kakkarot.” Vegeta changed the subject, his voice gruff.

“What did you bring me out here to talk about?” Trunks asked.

Vegeta was quiet as he considered. He wasn’t exactly sure anymore. It had started out as a desperate need for his child to not regard him the way he did his own father. For him to get the boy to understand how he felt. But it would seem that just maybe, the child understood him better than he understood himself.

“I want you and I to have the relationship that I didn’t have with my father,” Vegeta told him, turning his face away. “I want to know you....for you to know me...I have not achieved that too well on my own.”

“You didn’t know your father?” Trunks questioned.

“The short time that I was with him, before he gave me away, he did nothing but spar with me...” He paused before amending his statement. “Beat me, really. I was no match for him, so young.”

Trunks felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Maybe he was training you...” he suggested hopefully. “Like you used to train me...like we still spar sometimes. I am no match for you, either.”

Vegeta turned his dark eyes to his son.

“I have never beaten you unconscious. I have never beaten you within an inch of death.”

Trunks pursed his lips together, regretting his words. Vegeta continued.

“I tried to make you strong. Build you up. It matters little now why my father did what he did. But I want you to respect me, son,” Vegeta’s voice sounded tired as he spoke, “not despise me.”

“I could never despise you, Papa,” he replied. “I will be honest with you. I don’t understand some of the things that you do or agree with all of your methods, but I know you have your reasons. I know you try to do the best you can for us.”

Vegeta shook his head, surprised by the feelings Trunks’ words caused in his heart.

“I am proud to have you as a son,” he spoke, candidly.

“I am proud to be your son,” the young Saiyan replied. Vegeta turned to him, and Trunks smiled happily.

“Come,” Vegeta began suddenly, rising to his feet. “I think we should return.” Trunks stood and walked by his father’s side back to the house.

“Papa,” he spoke hesitantly before they reached the back patio. “I know you don’t want to talk about Goku,” Vegeta smirked and raised an eyebrow, but let the boy speak. “And I don’t know if you two will be friends again. I mean, I hope that you will....but this baby...it’s going to be my brother or sister..."

Vegeta stopped in his tracks and stared at his son. It appeared to Trunks that maybe the thought had never occurred to his father until now. Trunks continued.

“I want to be part of its life, Dad. I want it to know me.”

Vegeta felt an odd sensation tightening in his chest. Why had he not thought of this before? How could he have not thought that his child was also part of Trunks and Bulla, not just himself and Kakkarot? And being an only child himself, the prince was not familiar to the connection among siblings.

“Kakkarot would not deny you,” Vegeta spoke with hesitation. He finished quickly before Trunks could add any more. “I have things to attend in the gravity unit. We will discuss more later.”

Trunks nodded, giving his father a smile, before the prince turned and headed for the GR.

A/N: BLAHHH!!! I hate writer's block! I hate over time!!! But, I hope you all like this chapter. I had fun forcing it out of my skull. Anyway, it might be a while (*sigh*) before my next update, as the next two chapters are what were affected by the writer's block worst of all. I need to rewrite a bit and send them back to my beta (who is a goddess) for them to be readable. Zack, the Saiyajin and Chloe: Welcome to the maddness!!! Thanks to everyone that reviewed! I love to hear how you all feel about what is going on in my little world. I hope this next chapter doesn't dissappoint! Enjoy! - B°