Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Act II ( Chapter 54 )

[ 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...

To my wonderful, wonderful beta-reader, Rowina: Thank you, thank you....thank you... ^-^


Vegeta kneeled next to Goku, wishing he knew something to help or assist, or at least how to ease his pain.

“I can’t believe this,” Goku gasped, feeling as though he were going to burst.

“This will be nothing for you,” Vegeta spoke calmly. “It’s alright.”

Goku groaned, holding his belly with his hands.

“I feel weird,” he spoke, looking to the prince. “I’m gonna break, I just know it... this isn’t supposed to happen.”

Vegeta grimaced, feeling it was not the appropriate time to reprimand the younger man for leaving the house to begin with. He didn’t have time to make any further comments as Piccolo and the others returned.

Gohan rushed to Goku’s side, and Vegeta stood, turning to Bulma.

“Piccolo says you think he can’t be moved!” she stated, her eyes wide and her skin quite pale. “You want me to deliver a baby here?”

Vegeta was scowling at her, his words coming out in a growl.

“Why did you bring him?” he demanded. He could sense Daikkon’s ki just outside. Bulma's expression showed her weariness, and she didn’t want to argue.

“Because he has the most experience. We need all the help we can get.”

She moved past the prince then and joined Gohan next to Goku.

“You think you're having this baby alone, huh?” she teased gently, trying to put up a brave front. “Well, this is some place you got here, but it will have to do!”

Goku grabbed her arm as she opened her capsule kit, halting her movements.

“Bulma,” he hissed through the pain, his eyes wide. “I’m so sorry.”

Bulma smiled, trying her best to hide her concern.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said simply. “Let’s just meet this little one, shall we?” She turned to the cave entrance and shouted, “Daikkon! Trunks! Get in here! Has Yamucha brought Dr. Clarke yet?”

Daikkon avoided looking at Vegeta as he followed the Saiyan teen into the cave.

“Not yet,” Trunks told his mom, crouching at her side. “What can I do?”

“Well, we’re going to need light, first off, and a better surface to move Goku onto.”

Vegeta stood back, watching with a strange detachment as those in the cave moved with quick efficiency to attend Kakkarot.

“It’s completely dialated,” Daikkon spoke, examining Goku’s abdomen. “He’s ready.”

Goku gave a groan of pain, as if rebutting that statement.

Trunks glanced up as he was situating the lights.

“The doctor is here,” he spoke, seeing Yamucha and Dr. Clarke land outside.

“Thanks, son,” the good-natured doctor said, giving the warrior a pat on the back. “Much more agreeable this time -- not being stuck frozen to another practitioner and all.”

Bulma gave a snort of laughter in spite of the gravity of the situation. It was the night of Trunks’ birth when she had first met Ryoga.

“I hear we’re having a baby?” the doctor asked jovially, setting his bag down at Goku’s side.

“Oh, yes we are,” Bulma said, shaking her head. “Any second now.” Ryoga’s brows rose in intrigue.

“Really?”

Goku grunted as he was helped to move to a mat Trunks retrieved from one of the medical supply capsules. Ryoga kneeled at the Saiyan’s side, examining the length of skin on the underside of his belly, feeling the obvious indentation.

“Do you really think you can do this?” Goku asked, a slight trace of fear in the question. The doctor smiled.

“I’ve delivered hundreds of children, son. This will be no problem.”

“You’ve never delivered anything like this!” Goku challenged, eyeing in horror the medical tools Bulma laid out. Dr. Clarke continued to grin.

“Oh, it’s all surprisingly similar. You’re going to be fine, son.”

Goku turned to look at Vegeta, uncertainty clear on his face. Vegeta gave a nod, silently assuring him that yes, he would be fine.

Gohan settled behind his father, letting Goku rest his weight back against him as Daikkon, Bulma and Dr. Clarke worked to prepare the area. Trunks stood behind the three, his eyes wide with wonder and his brain second guessing his decision to go into medicine.

Goku didn’t mind being undressed from the waist down in public, nor the cold sterilization fluid that they rubbed on his belly, but once he caught sight of the syringe full of anesthetic, his heart started to pound harder.

“No!” he shouted, holding out a hand. “Just cut. I don’t care, I can take it...”

Bulma pause, the needle poised.

“Honey, that would be painful,” she told him.

“It’s already painful!” he exclaimed. “Please. Just... just do it.”

Daikkon looked to Bulma, who gave a slow nod of permission.

“I’ll make this quick,” Daikkon told him. Goku readied himself for the event, taking Gohan’s hands for support. Daikkon pressed his fingers against Goku’s abdomen, feeling for the appropriate place to cut. He could feel the opening of the womb and placed his scalpel.

Goku bit back the shout that nearly escaped him at the initial stab of pain. But Daikkon was fast and efficiently made the incision.

Goku couldn’t look. He didn’t want to see.

“Okay, kiddo,” Dr. Clarke told him, taking Daikkon’s place in front of him, crouching between Goku’s knees. He placed a hand atop Goku’s belly. “We’re just going to wing this. Your contractions feel pretty strong, so push if you feel so inclined. I’ll help you along when I can.”

Goku nodded vigorously, tightening his grip on Gohan’s hands. He had been resisting the urge to push for what seemed like hours, but he knew was only minutes, so getting the go ahead was music to his ears.

But it wasn’t easy. One would think that an 11 cm long opening would not be difficult to push a child from; after all, there was no pelvic bone in the way, just pliable muscle...

Goku grunted in frustration, trying not to writhe in agony as he concentrated. The feeling in his abdomen, aside from the pain, was rather strange. He could feel the tightening of the contractions and the sensation he could only describe as ‘pressing.’

“There we go,” Dr. Clarke encouraged, beginning to see progress from the womb. It was a strange sight, so unlike a female birth, yet oddly similar. And he wasn’t so sure if more people had the option of pushing a baby out a opening in their lower abdomen instead of the alternative, they just might take it.

The contractions were beginning to feel more like sharp spasms now to Goku. His entire body tensed with each movement, the whole of the universe existing only where he felt the urge to push.

“Now that is a head of hair,” Dr. Clarke commented as the baby’s head began to emerge.

Vegeta craned his head to look but remained on the opposite side of the cave. He heard Goku’s gaspand Bulma’s emotional giggle of delight. Tentatively, he took a step closer.

Goku narrowed his eyes, trying not to squeeze them shut. He wanted to see the baby. He wanted to see the baby out. He began to pant, a sob of relief escaping as the head fully emerged.

The tiny infant’s face was turned away from the prince, but Vegeta could see the look of awe on his eldest son’s face as he watched Dr. Clarke suction any fluid from the baby’s nose and mouth. Vegeta took another step closer.


Goten paced outside of the cave, grumbling in an agitated manner under his breath. He would tense every time he heard his father moan or make an exclamation of pain.

The interior of the cave was well lit, giving a clear view of the events taking place. None of those gathered outside could bring themselves to look. They respected Goku’s privacy too much...

And they didn’t want to see.

Goten ran a hand through his hair, stopping in his tracks to peek into the cave. He looked away quickly and began to walk again.

“Hey,” Yamucha told him, pulling him to a stop. “Your dad’s gonna be fine. Piccolo told us what Daikkon said, but Goten, that danger is past now. They’re gonna take care of him.”

“I know,” Goten sighed, looking back toward the rock cavern. “I just... I don’t want him to hurt.”

Yamucha threw an arm around the teen, giving him a hug.

“None of us do. But this is short, and it’s worth it. Besides, once they sew him up, he’ll be good as new.”

Goten nodded.

“You’ve been strong, Goten,” Piccolo stated.

Yamucha and Goten turned to the Namekian who sat against a rock, his arms folded across his chest, staring into the dark sky above. “He will need your help in the coming months. Do not lose that strength now.”

Goten smiled.

“I won’t.” The teen turned from Piccolo to look at his dad’s friends who were with him: Yamucha, Krillin and Tien. “Thank you, guys. I appreciate it.”

He received warm smiles in reply as the group went back to waiting in silence.

Yamucha looked down at his watch, checking the time and date.

“Man,” he said aloud.

Krillin turned to him.

“What?” Yamucha gave a sheepish grin.

“I was six days off,” he replied, Krillin didn’t look any less confused.

“What?” he asked again.

“Six days,” Yamucha repeated, looking around at the group. “The date I guessed... at the shower... is not for another six days...”

He received a chorus of ‘oh’s in return. Yamucha continued.

“So unless he’s delivering a ten pound girl in there, I’ve lost.” He turned to Krillin. “What’d you guess?”

“Eight pound girl. But on the twenty-forth, so I’m way off.” The two looked to Tien. The bald warrior blushed.

“I don’t know a thing about this!” he stammered.

“What did you guess?” Yamucha asked.

“A boy...” Tien spoke. “But I wasn’t sure about dates or weights... so I picked... well... three weeks ago... I think... and... and 5 pounds.”

“That’s a tiny baby!” Krillin laughed.

“It’s the same as a sack of flour!” Tien defended himself. “And... isn’t that baby-sized?”

Krillin and Yamucha chuckled at their friend’s expense. Tien punched Yamucha in the arm, feeling that he shouldn’t get to laugh as they were both childless.

“What about you, Piccolo?” Goten asked. “What’d you guess?” The Namekian frowned.

“Last week, 8 pounds, 6 ounce male... monkey.”

Goten frowned as the others chuckled. The teen continued to look offended at the Namek, but inwardly he felt quite different.

“If everyone else is half as inept as these four,” he told himself, “I just may have that game in the bag.”


“Where is the crying?” Goku thought as he watched the doctor support the tiny baby’s head in his hands. “Isn’t there supposed to be crying?”

Tears sprang to his eyes before he could stop them, and this time they weren’t from pain and exhaustion. He couldn’t come this far and... lose...

Goku squeezed his eyes shut, feeling Gohan tighten the grip on his hands. He tried to push hard, without pushing too hard, to deliver the baby.

Goku suddenly felt a tremendous release in his abdomen. His eyes snapped open, and he watched Dr. Clarke pull the silent baby into his hands, placing a clamp on the small length of umbilical cord that hung untethered, and deposit the child into the blanket Bulma had outstretched.

“A boy,” the doctor stated, watching Bulma rub the tiny Saiyan dry.

“Is he alive?” Goku gasped, desperate for an answer. Panic began to course through him as he stared at the newborn infant, desperate for the slightest movement or sound.

“Eleven fifteen p.m...” Trunks spoke quietly.

Goku couldn’t believe this. He had felt the ki! Had felt the life! And now his child lay powerless in his best friend's arms while that ki still tingled inside of him. Was it just the ki field that his womb had created to protect the life inside? Could it have been that his son had...had died? He nearly choked on the sob that constricted his throat.

Vegeta felt Kakkarot’s grief, and his own sense of loss grewas he looked upon his child his wife was attending. Why was there no aura of energy from him?

Bulma rubbed the blood and fluid off the little boy, her eyebrows drawing together in concern as well. She didn’t want to be obvious to Goku she was checking for vitals, but she had no choice. As she opened the blanket to touch the baby’s chest, his face scrunched up in irritation, his arms and legs pulling up close to his body. A tiny brown tail lashed angrily about as the infant blinked its eyes, disoriented outside of the warm, protective womb. He shivered and frowned deeply before opening his mouth and giving a displeased wail, his ki spiking.

Bulma laughed, resting him gently on the scale Trunks had set up, and went about taking his vitals and stats.

“He’s perfect!” she announced to the room, sniffing back her tears. After she swaddled the baby back into the blanket, his crying ceased and he lay, appearing to sleep, his ki once again undetectable.

Goku gave a sigh of relief, relaxing back against his son. He felt a joyful, euphoric feeling at that moment, as though the world was in perfect peace. He looked to the prince, smiling, but Vegeta wasn’t smiling in return.

Vegeta stared at Kakkarot. The baby’s ki was just about nonexistent. But even so, he was outside of Kakkarot now.

So what on earth was that ki inside of the third class coming from?

“OW!” Goku bent forward, surprised by the severity and unexpectedness of the next contraction. Dr. Clarke pressed his hand across Goku’s belly.

“I don’t think you're done just yet, son,” he said.

Behind Goku, Gohan paled.

“Is...is it the placenta?” he asked.

Daikkon shook his head.

“Saiyans do not deliver a placenta, as in human births,” he replied. “It is converted into ki and consumed through the umbilical cord for energy. That is why Saiyan births take less time than human ones. They need to --”

“Please quit talking!” Goku shouted, straining against the pain. “Please! I can’t...I can’t think!” Daikkon complied. “Is...is it...a baby?!” Goku asked the doctor.

“Feels like it,” he answered. “Just take it easy.”

Goku rolled his eyes skyward. That was easy for him to say.

Vegeta felt numbed by this turn of events. Would he now bea father four times over? He moved slowly toward Bulma, trying to look upon the child without too much obvious interest. Bulma turned to him and smiled, picking up the tiny bundled babe and meeting Vegeta.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered, angling the baby so that Vegeta could get a good look at his face.

Vegeta marveled at the little Saiyan. A perfect stranger with a face he’d know anywhere. The boy’s face, in general, was shaped like his own, but definitely with Kakkarot’s hairline. His thick mane of ebony hair appeared as though it couldn’t decide if it wanted to mimic the prince’s tapered peak or Kakkarot’s haphazard style, and it stood out in every direction from from his head. It actually reminded Vegeta of Radditz. The baby’s face was serene in sleep, but the shape of his eyes and brow were definitely his sire's, while his nose and mouth were those of the one who had just given birth to him.

As Vegeta looked upon the child, taking stock of his features, he came to the same conclusion as Bulma had:

Beautiful.

Goku’s agonized moan broke Vegeta’s musing, and the prince turned his focus back to the younger man’s endeavor.

“Trunks,” Bulma spoke, holding the baby cradled in her arms. “Set up an incubator. I think I have a spare generator in cap m-13.” Trunks quickly did as told. The children might be Saiyan, but they were still 2 weeks early.

“Keep breathing,” Dr. Clarke advised Goku, seeing the renewed look of determination on his face. “We don’t know which way this little one is facing, so let’s let him set the pace.”

Goku nodded, grunting in discomfort as the doctor pressed on his belly, trying to ascertain the baby’s position.

“Oh!... Ow!” Goku exclaimed, gasping from the painful contraction. He could no longer feel the sting of the incision, just the sharp stab of each muscle spasm as it moved the baby closer to the world.

The urge to push was strong, and Goku bore down with it, hoping he was making good progress. That intense pressing feeling was back, and he could feel something starting to emerge.

“Just be healthy...” Goku chanted to himself. “Just be okay...” But in the back of his mind and a tiny secret place in his heart, he amended his mantra to include: “And maybe... being a daughter would be nice too... but just be healthy... just be okay.”

“Ah!” Goku gasped, watching the doctor push on his abdomen, as if helping guide the baby into place. “Is... is everything okay?” he asked.

“So far, so good,” Dr. Clarke spoke, but kept his full attention on the delivery. “Keep pushing.”

Vegeta turned from Goku to where Trunks was attending the first born. The teen was cleaning and measuring, all while the infant slept on. Vegeta was amused by the way the brown tail still moved about, wrapping itself around Trunks’ wrist if he held still too long. The prince registered hearing the doctor speak about seeing the head, but it wasn’t until Gohan gasped and Goku made an exclamation, that he turned back.

“Is... is it...” Goku stammered, looking in shock down at the baby’s head. “Super Saiyan?”

Vegeta couldn’t stop his mouth from going slack as he looked upon the golden haired infant. It was shocking, to say the least, but he recovered quickly.

“How can he be?” he asked, but continued to stare. “His power level isn’t high enough...I...I think he’s just...blonde...”

Goku gave another hard push.

There was no time or opportunity to wonder about the second baby’s well-being, for as soon as its’ mouth was visible, the child put its lungs to work.

“Well, he’s mad enough to be super,” Gohan breathed, marveling at the sight and the sheer volume of the sound.

Dr. Clarke only angered the infant further by suctioning clear its’ airways, keeping a hand supporting the tiny blonde head.

“One more good push, Goku,” the doctor told him. “This is almost over.”

And it was true. One last push, and the baby slid into the doctor’s hands, wailing continuously. Dr. Clarke turned and placed this one, too, into Bulma’s outstretched blanket.

“Another boy,” he announced. “Congratulations.”

“Eleven twenty-nine p.m.,” Trunks announced, happily this time. Dr. Clarke smiled at Goku.

“There aren’t any more in there, are there?” he asked with a grin. Goku shook his head, exhaustion finally overtaking him. The only ki inside of him now was his own. “Good, good. Just close your eyes for a bit and take a few deep breaths.”

Goku did as instructed, barely noticing the stick of the needle when the doctor administered the anesthetic so they could begin the closing procedures.

Goku felt tired and weary, yet pleasantly satisfied. They were okay. His babies were fine. Sure, there was a very small part that was a bit disappointed, but it was alright.

Vegeta curiously watched Bulma attending the second born. Trunks came to his side.

“Is he ascended...do you think?” he asked. Vegeta moved directly to Bulma’s side to look closely atthe child. Yes, the tiny Saiyan’s ki was strong, but it was not the ki signature of a Super Saiyan.

“No,” Vegeta assured him, feeling confused by the situation himself. “He’s just...colored that way...” He watched as his wife cleaned the boy, who was still shaking in fury as he cried. His light, honey-blonde tail bristled and lashed out as she rubbed the cloth over his skin. Bulma couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbled up in her.

“Vegeta,” she laughed, shaking her head, “he looks just like you.” She wrapped the struggling infant in a fresh blanket and crossed to Goku’s side. “Goku,” Bulma said gently, kneeling with the swaddled baby in her arms. “Do you want to see them now?”

Goku opened his eyes and turned as Trunks came behind her with the other twin.

Goku smiled at them, his heart near bursting with affection for these two tiny boys. His sons. The dark haired first born opened sleepy eyes at him, but closed them again soon after. The fair haired second born continued to shout his displeasure to the world.

“There, there,” Goku murmured, raising his hand and gently brushing his fingers across the baby’s soft cheek. “Don’t cry.”

The baby shuddered, his cries ceasing as he turned his face to the warm touch.

He did look just like Vegeta, Goku thought. His hair, whose color made it appear more like a flame. The angry crease between his blonde brows. Vegeta’s nose... Vegeta’s mouth... it was amazing.

Goku moved his hand to touch the other baby, causing him to stir only slightly. Goku sighed, feeling now the ache as well as the weariness.

“Done,” Dr. Clarke spoke, finishing up the last stitch. “After we check his vitals, I’m sure it will be safe to move him.”

“We’re going to have to separate you for a tiny bit,” Bulma told Goku. Goku gave a sad groan. “Just for a tiny bit. We’re going to get you cleaned up and settled at Capsule Corp, and there you can get up close and personal.”

Trunks pulled a capsule from the kit after placing his newborn brother back into the incubator.

“I’ll set up the med-truck,” he told his mother. On his way to the exit, he stopped by his father. “Congratulations, Dad,” he told him with a smile. Vegeta smiled in return, and the boy continued outside.

The group gathered outside the cave looked expectantly to Trunks as he emerged. They had felt the one ki spike and disappear. They were dreading the news.

“Boys!” Trunks exclaimed. “Two!” They looked stunned by the announcement.

“Are they okay?” Krillin asked, wringing his hands. “And Goku?”

“All doing great!” Trunks explained, walking past them to toss the capsule to the ground. In a pop and a poof of smoke, the truck appeared.

“But I only feel one extra ki...” Yamucha spoke uneasily. Trunks shrugged.

“The first born doesn’t seem to have a detectable ki signature. He did when he cried, but that was it. Their vitals are strong, but Mom put them in incubators just to be safe.” Trunks turned to address Goten specifically now. “Our brothers,” he said.

“Woot!” Goten exclaimed, leaping to throw himself into the older teen’s arms. Trunks embraced him happily. “Wow! Boys!” Goten laughed pulling away. “You don’t say?” Trunks gave a nod

“And one is blonde!” he laughed, opening the truck doors and hopping in the back. He popped the locks that kept the gurney secured.

“Blonde?” Yamucha said, awed. “Like Super Saiyan?”

“No,” Trunks answered. “Dad says just blonde. C’mon, Goten, you can help.”

Goten paled before asking.

“Is Dad still... open?” Yamucha flinched.

“No. The incision is closed. We’re going to move them back to Capsule Corp,” Trunks explained. Goten gave a sigh of relief and followed him inside.

Inside the cave, Bulma was giving orders to Daikkon and Dr. Clarke for transporting the infants and the equipment. When she saw Trunks pushing the gurney, she turned to Vegeta.

“Help him get Goku settled on that. Be very careful.”

Vegeta frowned but didn’t argue. Kakkarot was a Saiyan. He could probably walk home if he felt so inclined.

Goten went immediately to his father’s side, dropped to his knees and kissed Goku’s forehead

“How ya feeling, Dad?” he asked.

“Pretty good... pretty tired... but good,” Goku said with a smile. “You should see your brothers.” Goten nodded and stood, turning to where the two incubators sat. Gohan was already there looking upon the children.

Goten went to his side, a smile lighting his face.

“He is blonde!” he remarked. “And loud!... Gosh... they’re so cute.”

“They’re all cute until they turn into cocky teens,” Gohan teased.

“There’s no reason they should,” Goten reasoned. “I mean, I didn’t.” He grinned widely, ignoring Gohan shaking his head and leaned down to get a closer look at the sleepy eyed twin #1. “Hey, kiddo,” he whispered. “I’m your big brother. I get to teach you all kinds of cool stuff.”

Gohan smiled warmly at his younger brother as he listened to the teen. His smile soon turned into a grimace as Goten continued.

“And if you two are anywhere close to 7 pounds each, you’ve just won me a big prize...”


Chi Chi had spent the last hour pacing a track into the Briefs' living room carpet. She hadn’t heard anything since Gohan, Piccolo and Krillin had come to collect Bulma.

She hoped and prayed Goku was alright. She also hoped his feelings weren’t hurt because she didn’t join him, but she didn’t feel she could stomach watching her husband be cut open in a dirty, dark cave.

Chi Chi stopped in her tracks as Videl’s cell phone began to ring.

“It’s Gohan!” Videl spoke, nervously opening the phone. “Yes?”

Chi Chi clasped her hands together and held them to her mouth as she waited, getting no indication of the call's message from her daughter-in-law's expression. There was a long pause as Gohan shared his information before Videl spoke again. “Okay, honey. See you soon.” Videl snapped the phone shut.

“Is Grandpa okay?” Pan demanded, jumping from her seat.

“He’s fine,” Videl assured. “They’re on the way here now.”

Chi Chi gave a heavy sigh of relief. She turned to her father and smiled.

“I told you he’d be fine, hon!” he told her, bringing a handkerchief up to dab his eyes.

“Did the baby come?” Bulla asked quietly. Videl reddened slightly and nodded.

“Yes... they’re fine, too...”

Chi Chi’s eyes widened.

“They?” she asked. Videl nodded.

“Yes... two boys.”

Pan leapt into the air.

“Cool!”

Bulla smirked.

“Better than two girls.”

Chi Chi tried to smile at Bulla, but inwardly wasn’t smiling at all.

So it was done. Over.

Goku had finally given birth to his all-Saiyan child. And not just one, but two. But she was determined not to judge innocent babies by their ancestors. Goku was sweet and kind...and certainly these children would have the same sweet faces as her own boys, so much like their father.

“I think they’re here!” Pan exclaimed, peering out of the window. “Yes! It is them!” Videl stopped her before she could throw open the door.

“Now, Pan,” she said sternly, “Grandpa is going to be very tired, and the babies are going to need lots of quiet, too.” Pan frowned but nodded.

“We’re back!” Goten exclaimed, throwing open the front door.

“How is he?” Videl asked, just as Trunks joined him.

“Uncle Goku is fine and so are the babies,” Trunks assured her. “Just to be on the safe side, though, Mom’s going to fit their beds with radiant warmers and keep Uncle Goku here for tonight, at least.”

Goten noticed the worried look on his mother’s face.

“It’s alright, Mom. I saw Dad, and he’s fine. They’re coming behind us.”

Chichi nodded, but didn’t reply. Goten and Trunks left the room with the girls on their heels.

It was not long before the others returned to the house. Chi Chi watched as Yamucha, Krillin, Tien and Piccolo carefully moved the two incubator units past and into the foremost guest room. She could see the tiny Saiyans inside, but the connection barely registered in her brain. She just wanted to see Goku well.

“Aren’t they cute?!”

Chi Chi turned quickly upon hearing her husband’s voice. He was being helped into the house by Gohan, who was guiding him carefully inside. Goku had a tired, yet euphoric look on his face. Chi Chi smiled at him.

“Come look, Chi,” he insisted.

“They are adorable,” Bulma told the younger woman. “Beautiful! Goku did a great job. And I’m taking good care of him, I promise!”

Chi Chi nodded, still feeling somewhat stunned.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked Bulma.

“He might want something to eat once the adrenaline wears off. Feel free to use whatever you want in the kitchen, or have one of the bots make it for you.” Chi Chi nodded.

“Thank you.”

Bulma smiled, her face still flushed with excitement.

“No problem....Where did Vegeta go to?” she mused aloud, turning away.

There was a flurry of efficient activity, and Goku was settled nicely in the Briefs' guest room, his infant sons in warming cradles by his bed. Bulma thanked their friends, and all assured her they would be back the following day to properly welcome the newest additions. Daikkon had asked to take leave to his room, and the only one left was Dr. Clarke, who was making sure Goku was well settled.

“Thank you for everything, Dr. Clarke,” Goku spoke, shaking the doctor’s hand.

“No thanks necessary. It was an honor and a privilege,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll be back to check on you and the little ones.” The doctor gave one last look in on the infants before saying his good-byes.

Bulma grinned at Goku, as she wasn’t able to manage any other expression at the moment.

“Oh, congratulations, sweetie,” she said, leaning down to give him a hug.

“Thank you, Bulma,” he replied, “for everything.”

“Don’t mention it. Although I might insist that you spend tomorrow night here, too.”

Goku’s attention was divided between Bulma’s words and his son's wailing. He glanced nervously to the plexi-glass cradle he lay in, while Bulma continued.

“As soon as your body has returned to its normal state, I can put you in the regen tank for that incision.” Goku turned back to her.

“Normal state?” he asked. “You mean, my stomach will be flat again? 'Cause I was wondering why the babies were born, and I still look five months pregnant. And it still hurts.”

Bulma chuckled.

“Yeah, give yourself time. Right now you probably want to take a shower and eat, right?”

Goku gave a nod.

“Right,” he answered, with slight hesitation. “Bulma... is... is he okay?”

Bulma looked to the angry blonde baby.

“He’s probably just hungry, sweetie,” she said, her cheeks blushing slightly. “Um... I guess I should show you how that works.”

Goku did not look comforted by those words.


After Chi Chi made her husband’s dinner, she sat quietly in his room while he showered and changed.

She had the time now to give the infants a more critical assessment. She could definitely see her husband and sons in one’s features, but the fair haired infant was 100% Vegeta. She sighed, wishing that he wouldn’t have the prince's temperment as well. It would seem as though that wish wouldn’t come true, as the infant spent most of its time screaming. This was the first time she had seen him quiet.

“Whaddaya think?” came Goku’s gentle voice from behind her. She turned and smiled at him.

“They’re beautiful. The dark haired one has your mouth.” Goku chuckled.

“You think?”

The two stared at each other a moment without speaking.

Chi Chi longed to put her arms around him and hold him, to be held by him...but she knew he was tired, hungry and needed to sleep.

“Sit down,” she told him, motioning him towards the bed. Once he settled in against the headboard, she placed a dining tray on his lap.

“Thanks, hon,” he said. She sat down at his side, watching him eat. In between bites, he stared raptly over at his newborns. Chi Chi smiled, the feeling slightly bittersweet. But she was happy for him. “Are you going to stay here tonight?” Goku asked her.

“Of course,” she told him, fidgeting with the bedspread as she was unable to meet his gaze. “I’ll be just down the hall.”

Goku tried not to frown. He had been hoping to sleep at her side, now that he could actually sleep closer to her. But it was for the best, he supposed. The blonde twin did seem to do a lot of crying, and he would be up with them a lot... He didn’t want to disrupt her sleep.

“Well... we’ll be back home soon,” he remarked.

“Take your time, Goku,” she told him, turning to look up at him. “I want you healthy and well. I know you’re strong, but this is a very sensitive time, and you need to let yourself recover.”

Goku nodded, resting his hands over his still distended, but substantially smaller stomach.

“I will,” he assured her. “I’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

Chi Chi stood and smiled at him, bringing a hand up to gently caress his cheek.

“You're not abnormal now,” she told him. “You’re so wonderful. I... I want you to know...” Her voice dropped from emotion. “How proud I am of you.”

Goku took her by the arms and pulled her close to him, kissing her. Tears ran freely down her face as she slipped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, being careful to avoid putting pressure on his torso.

“I love you,” he whispered, breaking the kiss.

“I love you, too,” she replied. “So take care of yourself. Keep up your strength.” She looked to the two bassinets. “You have people who need you...in a different way than usual.”

Goku nodded.

“Thanks, Chi.” She smiled at him.

“You’re welcome. Now get some sleep while you can.” She kissed him once again before standing. “Goodnight, darling.”

“G’night,” he repeated, giving a small wave.

Chi Chi picked up the empty tray and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She needed sleep as well. The last few hours of the day felt like weeks, and who knew what tomorrow would bring?


Vegeta pulled the door to his bedroom slowly closed, and it made an almost imperceptible ‘click’ as it connected in the frame. He didn’t want to wake Bulma. It was well past four a.m., and she had just fallen asleep. All the woman wanted to talk about was the children, how cute they were and who they looked like.

It was good to hear that Kakkarot was doing well, and there shouldn’t be further concerns.

Vegeta frowned.

Unless, of course, there was something else they weren’t being told...

The prince moved silently through the dark house and stopped in front of the first floor guest room. He could feel Kakkarot’s ki on the other side, stable and calm. Hopefully, he was sleeping.

Just as carefully as he had closed his own door, he opened this one slowly and peered inside.

“Hi, Vegeta,” Goku greeted him in a whisper from where he sat on the side of the bed, holding the light haired infant in the crook of his arm.

Vegeta paused awkwardly a moment, before stepping inside the room. He returned the greeting with a nod.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked the younger Saiyan. Goku grimaced.

“Can’t,” he explained. “I sleep like the dead, Vegeta! What if they need me, and I don’t wake up?!”

Vegeta smirked, looking from the sleepy infant in Goku’s arms to the one quietly unconscious in his warming cradle.

“They appear to be fine now. I haven’t heard that one--” He pointed to the blonde. “--crying for at least a half hour.”

Goku blushed deeply, looking down at the child.

“That’s because... I... I just fed him...”

Vegeta cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the dark haired child. The admission seemed to spark a thought for Goku, and he continued to speak in earnest.

“And what if I didn’t wake to feed them, and they starved? Little baby Saiyans need to eat! And I started to nod off once, and then I couldn't feel his ki.” He pointed to the dark haired baby. “And I woke up, worried that if something happened to him, I wouldn’t know!”

Vegeta grimaced, moving closer to the bassinet, staring down at the baby within. The child’s lack of ki disturbed him, and he had no idea why his ki would be so low that it was undetectable.

Goku watched Vegeta as the prince stared at the infant. He wondered what Vegeta was thinking. The prince’s tail was wrapped firmly around his waist, but the tip of it twitched back and forth as if it longed to be free.

“Bulma said it was okay to let him sleep instead of waking him up to, er, eat,” Goku spoke. “But I think he would starve.” Vegeta didn’t reply. Goku chose a different topic. “Before he left, Dr. Clarke said that he could get birth certificates for us... he says they're more liberal in Central about who can be named on the birth record... he said he would put that he delivered them at his private clinic in Central...” Vegeta turned to him.

“Oh?”

Goku didn’t know what to make of that response. He continued, self-consciously.

“Um... yeah. But you see, I don’t know what surnames to put on the birth certificates... Are they ‘Sons,’ or are they... ‘Briefs’... I guess...”

Vegeta’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“My surname is not Briefs!” he stated, as if he had taken offense.

“But... Trunks and Bulla...”

Vegeta sighed, shaking his head. He moved away from the cradle to sit in the chair next to the bed.

“Bulma and I did not marry for some years after Trunks was born. Bulma filled out his birth certificate. I cannot even tell you if I am named on it at all...” He shrugged. “And Bulla has their name, as we are a family... and that is Bulma’s family name.”

Goku looked confused.

“But you are part of that family... Shouldn’t you take her name?”

Vegeta stared at him a moment, and Goku was unsure if the prince were angry or not.

“Maybe,” Vegeta finally spoke. “My family name means little now.”

“Why would you say that?” Goku asked.

“Because it is only important to Saiyans. Understood by Saiyans,” he explained, leaning back. “We live on Earth now.”

“But our traditions don’t have to die because our planet did,” Goku told him. “Look how much Daikkon has taught us. I wonder if he can tell us about our family names...”

Vegeta’s eyes grew dark, and his voice was a harsh whisper.

“That fool only gives out information to suit his own agenda. And whatever that is has little to do with me or my family. I certainly don’t need some displaced second class to tell me my own name!”

Goku wasn’t dense enough to miss Vegeta’s anger. What he was so angry about was impossible to guess, as so much set off the prince’s temper where Daikkon was concerned. Goku knew better than to ask questions now. He wanted to continue with the conversation, and he didn’t want Vegeta’s tone or volume towake the babies.

“So,” the younger Saiyan prompted, “what is your surname?”

Vegeta frowned, as if he had been trapped into answering the question.

“Saiyans don’t have surnames or ‘last’ names as you would know them.”

Goku smiled.

“My ‘last’ name is first,” he chuckled. “The region where my Grandpa Gohan was from placed the family name before the given name. So I understand a bit about cultural differences like that.”

Vegeta gave an amused smirk and a nod.

“I suppose so... Saiyans would have three names: first,their given name. ‘Kakkarot,’ for example.” Goku smiled. Vegeta went on. “Then, an ‘identifier’-- that is the closest I can translate the word.”

“What’s the word?” Goku asked, sitting himself back against the headboard to listen to the story. He shifted the infant in his arms.

Vegeta felt a smile tug at his lips, so he spoke quickly before it was seen.

“’Tanár,’” he answered. “It is a familial identifier. It explains your place among your family. For example, ‘son of Bardock’: ‘Bardockvegotan’.”

Goku nodded. Vegeta took a breath before continuing. It had been so long since he had used such terms, it felt strange speaking of them.

“Then you would have your clan name, or ‘khunár.’ For example, ‘Khunmaku.’ So when you would introduce yourself, or announce yourself to someone, you would tell them you are ‘Kakkarot, son of Bardock, from the ‘Maku’ clan.’ Or,” he amended. “Radditz was of the ‘Maku’ clan, so... it applies to you as well, even if you didn’t grow up on our planet.”

“Wow,” Goku stated. “So my real name is Kakkarot Maku?”

Vegeta chuckled, shaking his head.

“No,” he answered. “You are Kakkarot Bardockvegotan Khunmaku. But what it essentially says is that you are Kakkarot, son of Bardock, of the Maku clan.”

“That’s some name,” Goku smiled. “It had to have been easier for you, being a prince. You would just have to tell people you were ‘Vegeta,’ and they would know you were the future king.”

Vegeta sighed.

“Yes, but I have a tanár and khunár just the same. And it could possibly be more difficult for a prince, as a king could have more than one wife, and your tanár would include both parents' names. And don’t get me started on what you would do if your brother or sister became family head... Saiyans follow the glory,” he said.

Goku ran a hand through his hair.

“Wow,” he repeated. “I never knew Saiyans had such a rich culture. I want our sons to know that, Vegeta. I want Gohan and Goten and Pan to know it, too...” He furrowed his brow as he observed the incredulous look on the prince’s face. “Don’t you?”

“I want my children to know what they want to know... unless I don’t want them to,” Vegeta replied dryly.

Goku frowned.

“Well, I do,” he stated. “So what clan are you from?”

Vegeta’s brow creased so deeply as he frowned, Goku felt he wouldn’t answer.

“I am from the ‘Noh’ clan. Clan of Kings,” the prince answered. “I am Vegeta Vegetavegotan Khunnoh.”

“So ‘Khunnoh’ is your last name?”

The older Saiyan shrugged.

“Essentially. Realistically, I have no last name, no surname. I am merely Vegeta. Nothing more.”

“Well, I have to put something on the birth certificates for last names. Our children aren’t celebrity icons, you know. They can’t get away with only one name. So if it can’t be ‘Son,’ and it can’t be ‘Briefs,’ we’re left with either ‘Khunmaku’ or ‘Khunnoh.’ ”

Vegeta stood from his chair, crossing his arms, agitated.

“We shouldn’t worry about last names as they don’t even have first name,” he grumbled. Goku smiled broadly.

“Oh, but they do!” he stated assuredly. Vegeta turned to him.

“You... you’ve named them?” he asked.

“I’ve had a few hours alone and up close and personal to get to know them,” the younger Saiyan explained. He motioned toward the warming unit that held the first born twin. “As he only wakes to eat and spends the rest of his time sleeping, I chose ‘Ninji’-- quiet serenity and wisdom.”

“The wisdom of eating and sleeping?” Vegeta said, giving a snort of amusement. “I see how that would make sense to you.” He gave a nod toward the child in Goku’s arms. “And that one? Is there a name that fits ‘screaming unless eating’?”

Goku’s smile became a wide, nervous grin.

“No,” he answered. Vegeta felt a slow twist of unease in his stomach. Goku went on: “This subsequent child --” Vegeta closed his eyes. “--shall be named Vegeta.”

“Kakkarot,” the prince said in a warning tone.

“No, Vegeta, you promised,” Goku told him. “But it’s not just ‘Vegeta’; I picked one of the variants: ‘Vejita.’ It means, ‘in the king's image.’ I think it’s a good name,” Goku told him decidedly. “I like it!”

Vegeta looked to the infant in Kakkarot’s arms.

“Well,” he grumbled, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Goku smiled while trying to stifle a yawn at the same time.

“Nothing to talk about,” he insisted. “But you can talk more about Saiyan names. What would have happened had my brother become family head?”

“It never would have happened,” Vegeta replied. “And that, too, is a talk for another time. You need to sleep. Put that child to bed and get some rest.”

Goku nodded, rising from the bed and crossing to place the infant in the warming unit next to his brother’s. Just as Goku settled back onto the bed, however, the child began to cry. His sibling began to squirm, disturbed by the noise.

“See what I mean?” Goku asked, standing again. “I would have slept through that, I know it! I won’t be able to watch them if I -- ”

Vegeta held up a hand, causing Goku to pause before he could move from the bedside. Goku watched in curious wonder as the prince approached the cradle and looked down upon the wailing infant.

Vegeta reached down, placing a hand on the baby’s belly, trying to soothe him. The infant gave a shuddering gasp, pausing in his tirade at the attention. When the prince failed to do anything further, the boy began to cry anew.

Vegeta sighed, putting his hands beneath the tiny Saiyan, and raised the child into his arm, holding him against his chest. The baby’s tears ceased, and he curled close to his father’s warmth, the soft, honey colored tail curling around the closest part of Vegeta it could find.

Goku smiled watching father and son, feeling a strong tug of emotion in his chest. How could he have ever second guessed his decision to keep his babies? How must Vegeta feel now?

The prince turned back toward Goku, keeping the baby securely against him.

“Sleep. Now.”

Goku grinned.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked. Vegeta gave him a sour look.

“I have done this a couple times in my life.”

“Right...wake me if...if they need me.”

Vegeta nodded, moving back to the chair as Goku turned out the bedside lamp.

The prince stared down at the tiny baby sleeping quietly in his arms. He ran a hand gently over the infant’s soft mane of golden hair. He did nothing but watch the child until he could hear Kakkarot’s deep, even breathing.

“Vejita,” the prince whispered, a slight smile on his lips. “My son...please do better for that name than those before you...”


A/N: Well, I have many things to write after this chapter and I hope ya'll don't mind taking the time to read them. First off, I truly hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter. I put a lot of thought into it and I hope it didn't disappoint (for ya'll hoping it was a girl, I know that is disappointing!). As for the Saiyan language bit, I am not a scholor nor a linguist, but I did put a lot of thought into the language and the culture pieces that I added. So please don't kill me if it doesn't make real lanuage sense...if that makes sense! LOL! For those of you who have expressed concern for my treatment of dear Mr. Daikkon, he will get a chance to further explain himself and his actions.... : )

Now for the non-chapter stuff: Today counts as the ONE YEAR anniversary of this little fic. One year! Canyabelieveit? I can't believe that it has been a year. I want to sincerely thank each and every one of you who has reviewed (here and at the Salon) or emailed me to tell me what you think, what I can change, what needs fixed, what you would like to see, or how this fic has affected you. I'm am in awe of your kindness. And to Rowina, my dear, darling beta (I could probably use you for these author's notes... ya think I used enough commas?), Thank you is not even enough as my spelling is piss poor and my grammar worse! lol. Thanks again for your support, ya'll. I'm am off...to finish writing chapter 55! No, the story doesn't end here! There is quite a bit left to go!!! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! -Bdegrees ^_^