AN: And here is the rest of it. I'm writing this at a faster pace than my usual stories, with half of chapter three already planned out and with a distinct overarching plot this time. Here's to hoping this latest craze lasts.
...
10 years later
Two hundred leagues away from the capital, there laid a small house sheltered by a mountainside cliff and a deep river flowed past it, cold and sparkling and red from the night sky. The area was peaceful, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city centre, and nowhere near enough to be affected by stray energy blasts from airborne battles. It was however situated near a small city, composed of nearly all low-class saiyans, but it was still remote enough to provide some measure of peace on a planet that lived for warfare and battles.
Bardock eyed the little establishment with disdain, and flew lower so that he could check the energy signatures within the house with his scouter. The figures that came back were pitifully low, and distantly he sighed, disappointed. He had thought that with Chichi as an elite (albeit one of the weakest females) his grandsons would have had a chance of being classed slightly higher than average, but these figures were disappointing. Still, his family name had the record of having spawned the only saiyan to have disobeyed King Vegeta and lived, and the only saiyan ever who had ever been fired from the military. Thinking back on it, Bardock smirked. Notoriety was something to be proud of, despite the obviously unfortunate circumstances in which it had arisen. He could now hear Chichi's sharp voice, and he knocked at the door, interrupting her tirade.
"Grandpa!" Goten smiled brightly at him after answering the door, and Bardock couldn't even find it in him to criticise him for being too effusive, not when he greeted him like that. His grandson had grown up into a fine man, reminiscent of his younger days and Kakarot's; it was just a shame about the power level.
"Goten, how's it going?"
"Help us." Goten whispered, grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he led him into the dining room, where Chichi was at the stove, roasting something that smelled delicious whilst simultaneously lecturing both Goku and Gohan, whom both looked miserable.
"-There's no use in fighting when you'll never amount to anything, just look what where your father ended up. There's too many fighters on this planet as it is, and – oh hello Bardock, sit down at the table, dinner's nearly ready – you're going to qualify and become a scholar and that's that."
Goku looked dismayed, and he tapped nervously at the table.
"But Chichi, there's still space down at the fighting rings for Gohan, he doesn't need to become a scholar..."
There was a snap, and everyone paled as the spoon Chichi had been stirring with suddenly snapped in half. Ki bolts jumped out from her fists, and she grabbed Bardock's son by the collar, energy crackling at her fingertips.
"I'll tolerate you and Goten going to those places because that's all you two are capable of. But Gohan is going places."
Goku opened his mouth, and Chichi just smiled sweetly, fingertips still bright and crackling.
"Give me a reason dear."
Goku gulped, the sound loud in a silent room save for the bubbling stove and everyone looked back down at the table hurriedly.
"I thought so." She smiled, and the tension eased. "Goten, come help set up for dinner."
...
The food was delicious as usual, and Bardock looked at the empty plates before him and patted his stomach with a satisfied sigh.
"You've outdone yourself again, Chichi."
The female saiyan just smiled, clearing up the dishes whilst they piled up, with Goten and Gohan now onto dessert.
"Well, with Goku and the boys, one needs to be prepared."
There was another pause, and Chichi and Goku exchanged a nervous glance, as Bardock's expression hardened slightly.
"Your name is Kakarot." He said, pursing his lips. "I don't see why you refuse to accept your saiyan heritage."
"I picked it up on this planet called Earth. I grew rather fond of it." Goku said, finally.
"…I swear you were hit in the head as a child or something."
His son just grinned, scratching the back of his head and laughed, and Bardock sighed inwardly. He wasn't in the habit of choosing his battles wisely, but this one he knew he wouldn't ever win.
…
There was a dim explosion in the background, and Vegeta's eyebrow twitched. The sound of screaming then followed, and with a sigh, he powered up and went looking for his son.
"Control your son woman." He snapped, with irritation and a slight desperation that counteracted the threatening tone of his voice.
But the blue haired saiyan just stared back at him, and raised an eyebrow.
"My son is incapable of listening to me because he takes after one of the most pig headed people I know. You deal with it." And with a snap of her tail, she resumed her tinkering with the scouter. Bulma was probably the only saiyan on the entire planet that dared to treat him in this manner, and whereas he usually found it challenging and exciting, now he only felt anger. The contraption was now dangling by only a few wires, and the King scowled at the useless meddling, not knowing what the hell had possessed him to sleep with the woman in the first place. Her power levels were low for elite (as it usually was with the women, he thought with a derisive snort) but it had been her unusual colouring, intelligence and absolute refusal to back down that had interested him in the first place.
But now, staring at the stubborn line to her jaw and her irritated glare, he was beginning to regret it. In hindsight, he started to realise he had just married a female version of himself.
He stalked towards the prince's chambers, retracing old steps to his old room, energy crackling and he stepped over the debris and charred remains of something to see Trunks sprawled out over his bed, idly playing with an energy ball, bouncing it up and down. Seeing his father, he stiffened, but did not rise, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge him and yet still slightly fearful.
"Don't make me beat you, boy." Vegeta snarled.
It elicited another twitch, but saiyans did not fear pain, and Vegeta was grimly satisfied to see his son resist the temptation to run, like any other low class would. He stopped to look at the charred mess on the ground, prodding the smoking lumps with the toe of his boot, grimacing at the mess.
"What the hell did this one do that was so offensive to warrant burning as a method of execution?"
"He irritated me."
Vegeta almost snorted, remembering a similar conversation with his own father, and his eyes narrowed, knowing exactly what to do next. Parenting had not come easy to him, but he had his own father as a rough guide.
He shot a ki bolt at his son.
"Get up and meet me in the gravity room. We need to improve on your aim."
…
They snuck out of the house quietly, keeping their energies low, and Goku grinned as his kids followed him, snickering to themselves. Sensing no disturbance in his wife's ki, they grabbed onto him as he teleported them out of the danger zone, and into their training arena. Sensing and suppressing their energy had been necessary to avoid their mother's wrath, but instant transmission had been one of the unexpected quirks of Goku's travels off planet. He had an unfortunate habit of making friends with the inhabitants of the planets he had been sent to erase, and after a few failed and botched missions, he had been cut from duty all together. In fact, his entire family had been cast to the wilderness, left to fend for themselves, and King Vegeta hadn't even bothered to sentence him since his power level was so low.
It had been an uncharacteristic show of mercy that had not gone unnoticed, and Goku remembered that day and that strange hooded figure very clearly. He owed that figure a lot, but in the end it had worked out quite well. They weren't built for city life, and he was much happier out in the wilderness, without the stresses of a day job nor the politics and strife that came from being in the military.
Stretching, he guessed it was a good thing things had happened the way they had, only he missed having strong opponents to fight against, the constant challenge of meeting new competitors had all but disappeared since he had been confined to Planet Vegeta. And that they were running out of money, and Chichi never let him forget it. They survived well enough in their isolated part of wilderness, but there were bills to pay for electricity and hot water, and they had Goten's schooling to think about. He tried to make as much as he could from the ring fights downtown, but it hardly paid well when he needed to throw fights regularly to avoid being noticed.
Wrapping the cloth around his fists, he tensed his muscles, closing his hands around the muslin wrap. His sons watched him nervously, energies spiked, and Goku had to look at them warningly until they got themselves under control.
"I don't see why you have to hide your power all the time." Goten pouted, grabbing onto his shoulders. "In fact, I don't see why you have to pretend to lose all the time either."
He ruffled his son's hair, smiling fondly, and then proceeded to whack him up the head, albeit softly. He was always surprised at how fast they had grown, and part of him was proud of his wayward sons. He missed having new opponents to fight against, but his sons all but made up for it with their strength.
"I got into a bit of trouble with the law when you two were younger. I don't really want the King to know where we are just in case he decides to change his mind."
Gohan nodded and patted his brother on the shoulder.
"Come on little bro, show me what you've got."
And with feral grins, the three of them sank into identical crouches, ready to begin sparring.
tbc
