So...I don't have too much to say up here.

*holds her nose* I think the beginning of the last one still gives me nosebleeds.

Anyhow, onward yeah?

Chapter 6: Listless

His eyes hurt.

They felt a little less severe than being beaten in the same spot repeatedly but they hurt nonetheless. He thought about keeping them closed, but the comfortable weightlessness of sleep had left him lying here on something a little hard, warm, and moving. He twitched, an instinctive move to see if he'd been injured more than he though, but his brain fired off that he hadn't quite been in a fight other than with the wall last night and the night before. His knuckles didn't sting. In fact they were a little stiff if anything. He lifted his right hand and found it bandaged neatly, tied off with a little bow that looked a little too much like some woman had done it. He didn't remember much more than blacking out…screaming…warmth…and then that dreamless sleep that he thought would elude him until the end of his days.

He wanted to go back there. Back to sleep and just rest. He might have if not for the sudden movement of that hard something he'd been lying on moved. He didn't open his eyes. He couldn't quite make himself. Everything was just so heavy right now.

"You're going to have to get up," he heard. "Today's a new day."

A new day? That voice held such promise it in. It was like that one moment he'd allowed himself some time ago, where he'd sat and watched a new day come into fruition and spent the morning contemplating the meaning of his life here and now. People didn't think he did that, but he did and he did it a little too often for his liking. This morning was like that with him unable to move much more than to sigh and wonder if it was worth getting up, but that voice didn't leave him like so many others would have. It moved to the side of his ear, humming softly as gentle callused fingers caressed the mark between his shoulder and his neck.

"You're going to feel listless for some time, but you have to fight it as much as you can," he heard. "It's how you move forward…how you move on."

Vegeta sighed again, wondering at the value of those words. He thought about ignoring them, but their pull was unmistakable as was the gentle kiss lain upon his lips dried with tears. He opened his eyes then, everything a blur for a moment. It didn't matter. He was shutting his eyes again as that voice stirred him, moved him further into awareness and just where he was.

"You lying here is too tempting…and if you don't get up I might do something…to satisfy my sudden urge to devour you."

And just like that, everything came into sharp focus and left him nose to nose with that cheeky son of a bitch Goku still holding him somehow without openly molesting him. That grin was always infuriating, as was the carefree attitude that didn't care for much more than the simple things in life. Simple. Vegeta found himself sighing again, glaring halfheartedly at that mouth. Simple was Goku's weapon of choice, and it worked so well that he'd managed to do more in his short life than some of the greater people he'd known on his planet. He didn't have to conquer a nation to get their respect and their loyalty and he truly didn't have to do much to make someone back down. It was all in the shock value of his actions and his attitude, which had always thrown Vegeta for a loop.

Perhaps had be paid more attention—no. He wouldn't have seen it. He would not have seen this analytical side of Goku in anything the taller saiyan did or said. Goku didn't want anyone to see it. Not aloud.

"I don't understand you," Vegeta said softly. His throat was drier than he believed it to be and he owed that hoarseness to his screaming last night. "Why…would you want…spoiled goods?"

"You're not spoiled…not in that way," Goku said quietly. His grin died and that solemn face appeared, pinning Vegeta in his prostrate state and locking their gazes. "Damaged yes, but scars are what you make of them. Are you going to let the past become some ugly never healing scar, or are you going to look at it like this?"

The soft fingers on his face moved and prodded him in a spot directly over his heart. He froze and sank, unable to keep himself from trembling as the heat of that scar burned him again. It hadn't taken much to take him out…he'd fought until he couldn't fight anymore and then it was nothing but blinding white hot pain before he was on the ground, staring at darkness, begging Goku to lose that damn humanity of his and kill that bastard. He had no right to ask him that, to beg someone he was supposed to kill or be killed by to do his work…and it wasn't him that influenced the change…

Vegeta moved closer, burying his face into the strong scent of Goku. "When did it all change like this?" he murmured. "When…did…everything turn itself inside out?"

"Who knows?" Goku moved his hand from that scar up to that mark on his neck, pressing it softly and letting Vegeta feel the warmth of his hand and the lingering sting of that wound. "We're not going to live like this…buried in lies to deny what we are; who we are. We're going to get up, we're going to move forward, and we're not going to the other realm to beat the shit out of everyone that's pissed me off for doing you harm."

"…why not?"

"Because I did that a week ago. I wonder if they've finished collecting all of that freak's parts..."

He was partially kidding, but the result was worth the small subtle smile on that tired face moving to look up at him. Goku was sure they hadn't found every part yet, not when he'd spread them to the far corners of hell and left Frieza's tail in the possession of a certain hound. He had been feeling particularly mean that day, of course that day being shortly after parting from Vegeta years ago and seeing for himself just how damaged the saiyan was from the inside out. Anyone would be after dealing with half of the shit that Vegeta had been through, including the death of all he knew and loved and being bound unwillingly to a higher force that was abusive as it was manipulative in all fields. Emotionally, Physically, and Mentally.

Their noses touched, and while Goku was inclined to do what he felt was natural, he didn't. He left the option open to Vegeta, not expecting much more that his soft breathing to touch his lips and for him to lie quietly as he let his body readjust to the sensation of being lighter. While docile living had helped, it inadvertently made the smaller saiyan tame and spoiled in a manner that made his loneliness and pain much more obvious to those who watched. Last night had probably been the first time he'd allowed himself to let go and erupt, and Goku really didn't want to frighten him back into his defensive state by doing something so forward after last night. It was never pleasant waking to know that the person thought of as a rival had seen a vulnerable side thought to be hidden away. That had been the basic problem before and Goku had left him alone then as well, but it was impossible to do that now.

Vegeta didn't move…at first. After a moment of hesitation, he scooted closer, raising his mouth to the corner of Goku's and lightly connecting the two. It was a sign of acceptance rather than defeat and Goku couldn't have been happier or more relieved. He gathered the smaller saiyan into his arms, holding him from the light of day and covering him his scent, his strength, and his protective embrace. "You're stronger than you honestly give yourself credit for," he said quietly. "You're not going backwards again. You're moving forward with me…and I promise I will do all I can to help you stand with or without me."

Vegeta closed his eyes and let the silent lull of this strange piece of his new universe take hold of his awareness. He drifted with the feel of Goku's lips against that mark, the gentle sting like his scent and his presence: always there and always encompassing.

"I love you."

Gohan turned his head in time to feel and see Yamcha wrapping himself around his shoulders, kissing the side of his head and resting comfortably against him. He was always saying that. Gohan, for his part never tired of hearing it. It made his heart thunder in a way he hadn't felt since he was a teen, when the thought of Videl had plagued his every waking moment and left him unsure of how to make her his. However, this feeling…this intense feeling of elation, the urge to be close, the thought of this weight against him, holding him, loving him, cherishing all that he was and feeding into his natural urges…he was unable to see past it and shuddered at the thought of never having found it.

"Cold?"

"No," Gohan said, moving to turn into that embrace and fall to lie on the couch with Yamcha still holding him. "Just an unpleasant thought."

"None of those," Yamcha chided. "I want you comfortable."

"…then…don't leave me alone." Gohan buried his face into Yamcha's shoulder, sighing as he tried not to think about the silent weight of what plagued their minds without others knowing. "I know it doesn't feel strange this time…but it frightens me."

There was no patronizing caress or words of condolence. Yamcha's arms folded themselves folded around Gohan, holding him tightly as a momentary wave of grief and protectiveness washed over the twosome. Gohan felt the pressure of that moment in his chest, clenching all he was and pricking tears from his eyes for a short moment. They were wiped away quickly by Yamcha's sure hand, the one that held his face and kept their heads together as he freely and openly allowed them to acknowledge what happened without feeling ashamed. Yamcha was never ashamed about it, never tried to hide it, and Gohan didn't understand how someone could be quite that strong without losing it somewhere along the line.

But Yamcha had lost it. He'd grieved so deeply at the unexpected joy and loss of their first unborn child that Gohan had feared he'd be desolate for months if not years.

It was purely accidental. They had not meant for it to happen, but Gohan's body had changed and adapted as it was his saiyan blood adjusting to the role he'd taken on in his later years in life. When it was he and Videl, being masculine, the male, the dominant one of the household was to be expected…but there was always something shy of his reach that he couldn't quite understand until Yamcha had landed in his lap almost three years ago. Gohan, married and quite sure that he was supposed to endure the strange strain that had fallen on his marriage, had thought he'd quite literally lost his mind when he found himself wanting to be around Yamcha more. Yamcha within his own right was a loner, not one to stick around but for so long and never one to be found unless he wished it. Yamcha's scent however drove him near insanity…and he avoided it until his saiyan side quite literally took hold of him and allowed Yamcha to crow in happiness the moment he bowed his head in submission.

The change happened swiftly. It happened so suddenly that Gohan literally woke up to find his lower half sore, unused, and sporting a new feature that had not been there before. He'd freaked, nearly having a panic attack until his father—the all-knowing simpleton that was anything but simple—showed up and calmly explained to him that while it was not quite that common in half breeds, it was normal when a saiyan took on a submissive role. Of course there was the horror of the "talk" he never thought he'd have to have, but everything came with a price.

Yamcha, remarkably, was more excited about it that Gohan had been. His reasoning was lecherous at best but he was sincere in his quest to dominate Gohan and make him his own. Gohan, having been dominant for so long, didn't truly understand that being submissive meant more than being on the opposite end, at least not until he found himself yielding to Yamcha's gentle demands and doing the things that "wives" were supposed to do without question. At least that's what he figured until he realized there was a balance that was emotional as well as physical between them.

Yamcha, while he was a loner, cared for himself and his needs. When he was with Gohan he was a protector, someone who got up and made sure there was nothing around to upset the happy little bubble they lived in. While Gohan was physically stronger than Yamcha, his personality wasn't. He was never really a loud person to begin with and if he could he would leave the decision making to others. The longer he was with Yamcha, the less he had to decide, and the more he realized that he liked not having to be the supposed "man" of the house. He liked being held down, pampered, catered to…and he LOVED how Yamcha seemed to be able to read all his emotions without fail and deliver inside and outside of the bedroom. Gohan didn't know just how much he'd come to love Yamcha until one morning when he woke to a strange feeling in the base of his abdomen and wound up keeling over in the middle of the day in unspeakable pain.

Gohan swallowed the lump in his throat and sighed tiredly as his head sank into Yamcha's shoulder. He didn't remember too much before he'd passed out except the muffled calling for him to wake up coming from Yamcha. When Gohan finally woke again, he wasn't in bed or on the couch…he was in the infirmary and feeling like someone had punched him in the gut repeatedly with all their might. The scent and sound of where he was didn't bother him. It was realizing that Yamcha was there with him, eyes red from crying and his throat scratchy and raw from screaming. He broke down upon seeing him wake, reaching up and hugging Gohan with apologies and reassurances Gohan could not understand. Gohan wondered why at first, asking him, dreading the answer the longer Yamcha took to tell him. Eventually he did get his answer, and he felt something within him break. He wasn't even aware of his own sobbing until much later, when Yamcha's shirt was soaked and slightly torn from his tugging. Yamcha only held him tighter, rocking him as the news of losing their first child sank and settled into their souls, leaving them feeling robbed, unsure, and foolish for not having known.

Most people who went through it never wanted to talk about it, never wanted to grieve, and feared it more than anything else after it was done. It was as if they'd been touched by death, a passing glance of fingers against something precious; robbing them of what could be and leaving them a little bitter about life and its unfairness, but stronger for having one another and seeing a new day with new appreciation for what was. It hurt more that Gohan didn't know about their child until after the fact, but he could not change what was. Gohan could, however, hold onto the small miracle that was a second chance and do all he could to keep alive the hope that had been given back to them.

He was about two months into it, three weeks further than he had been the first time. The subtle hardening of his lower abdomen was confirmation of the beginning of their unborn one settling in for the long haul, causing his bearer the uncomfortable twinge in his stomach from time to time. It wasn't "morning" sickness, but anytime sickness, and Gohan was loathe to vomiting up anything.

The small grimace on his face had Yamcha kissing the side of it, laughter bubbling as he slid his hand over the somewhat flat abdomen. "Still bubbling?"

"Some," Gohan murmured. "But it's a nice feeling."

Yamcha agreed, though he didn't dare say it aloud in fear of just how it may sound. It didn't matter, in some cases, what gender one's mate happened to be. Some things were always taken out of context, and he didn't think that saying "morning sickness" was a nice feeling would score him bonus points.

Gohan kissed the underside of his chin. "Thanks for not saying it."

"I like living," Yamcha murmured, getting a hearty laugh from his mate. They stayed cuddled for a while longer, until Bulma's desolate form wandered from wherever she'd been right past them. The poor woman hadn't been right since the previous day, when Goku had landed that bomb on her head and watched it explode with her depth of perception about the world she'd been allowed to live in, completely oblivious to the cunning creature that had been right under her nose the entire time. It was a blow to the ego and to the mind; Bulma's mind had shut down from its numbers and tinkering equations and gone into automatic, meaning she only comprehended moving, hunger, and going to the bathroom.

Yamcha had only seen her do this once and that was a very long time ago. Anything of a significant devastating life changing event would make anyone go a little mental, but for Bulma it meant that she was a program with basic functions and unable to upgrade herself until something snapped back into place.

Gohan watched her, a thoughtful look on his face the longer he watched her pace. "Maybe…"

"Maybe what, love?"

"Maybe…we should call my mom," Gohan said slowly. He looked back at Yamcha, wondering if he would consent to such a move. "She might snap her out of it."

"Your mom still wants my head," Yamcha grumbled. "But…I suppose I could call her…if Goku allows it."

"Deferring to the head honcho?"

"You bet your sweet ass…that's his former wife and my overbearing mother in law set on lighting me on fire…let him decide."

Gohan laughed softly and soothed his mate with soft kisses. "She'll forgive you soon enough." The warmth under his hand kept him from disagreeing, knowing that soon enough the crazy woman would probably move into their flat and dote on her eldest boy because the mother in her just couldn't be smothered. He briefly wondered what the others would say, and found himself trying not to laugh at the aneurysm that Krillin would have.

The next time Vegeta woke, he woke to the gentle prodding of a teasing finger on his nose. He snorted, waking fully and glaring at the chuckling behemoth sitting up and all but hopping out of the small bed that had somehow occupied the two of them. Vegeta resisted the urge to shiver from the sudden loss of warmth, but that shiver was short lived. He was tugged off of the bed the moment he sat up, yelping a little as Goku pulled him into his embrace and walked them out of the room with a light hum in his step. Vegeta stumbled but eventually allowed himself to be pulled, still a little out of it and wishing he was back in his bed.

"It's nearly noon, you know," Goku mentioned. "That's way too late to get up."

Vegeta snorted silently and said nothing. Given half the chance he would have slept the entire week away. It wasn't that often he found himself dreamless. If he could stay like that for longer than a night he would damn the day and let his body and mind rest themselves until he could stand to see the light that rose each morning. A new day seemed tedious, as did walking after a long moment.

He wasn't aware of his slowing down until Goku stopped, turned, and yanked him up into his arms, carrying him bridal style down the corridor and eventually into the bathroom. Vegeta was wide awake then, clinging unconsciously to Goku's shirt as they approached the oversized tub that had been run and prepped. Rather than being tossed into the waiting water like he thought, Vegeta was placed down gently, shoved a little by an insistent hand to move and do what was expected.

Vegeta turned his head slightly, refusing to acknowledge the sudden blush in his cheeks.

"What are you waiting for?"

"….I'm…"

"Strip already and get in! The day is wasting and we've got plenty to do."

What in the hell was Goku going on about now?! Vegeta started to ask, but he thought better of it and decided it just wasn't worth the exertion of finding out. He peeled himself out of his clothing, dropping everything into the hamper and eventually lowering himself into the prepped water.

He closed his eyes, listening to Goku move around the bathroom. While he had resolved himself to giving into the urges he so readily squashed the moment he was free to do so, he truly hadn't thought about the whole process of this thing Goku had started and sought to finish. The moron had a whole lot of faith in an ailing part of the world, the part where Vegeta simply existed and tried not to drown himself just to spare himself some pain. It was rather tempting to sink and just let go, but Goku was there again and laying a hand on his neck, bringing him out of his reverie and up to look at him in the eye.

"This is the easier part," Goku said softly. "Getting up and moving…and going about your life…that part is easy. It's learning how to fight the urge to let everything go that's the hardest part, and we are going to get past it no matter how long it takes."

How this idiot knew what he was thinking…it was annoying…and a sign that he'd been there a time or too himself. Vegeta couldn't fathom how, being that he was the savior of the world and all who knew him, but he really didn't know too much about Goku as a person anyhow. He simply knew him as the overgrown ox that liked to get in the middle of his business and fish everyone's ass out of the fryer, not to mention his self-sacrificing ass backwards act that did nothing but irritate the shit out of him.

Maybe….maybe that was why….

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed the hand that was on his neck, squeezing and making his short burst of irritability known. It hit him so fast that it left him dizzy, but the look on his face had the rapt attention of Goku gently rubbing his neck to sooth his ire. It didn't vanish that quickly, not quick enough for his mouth to pause before his thoughts took hold and had him snarling at the bigger saiyan.

"Don't promise me SHIT if you plan to die for anything less than dying for something worthy!" he spat. "I'll not sit here and adhere to this if you're only going to up and kill yourself for the fucking greater good!"

"Vegeta…"

"I MEAN IT! If you're going to do what you said, honor your word and don't…don't LEAVE me…here ALONE….AGAIN!" Goku was always leaving. He never stayed in one place and if he did, it was never long enough to really see more than what he wanted them to see. This mark…this mark on his neck….while it made Vegeta Goku's intended and the submissive of their supposed twosome, it also promised a life time of his mate for better and for worse. If he had to endure this pain, if he had to endure the ache of thinking that life could be sweet for a moment in his desolate life, he wasn't going to have it snatched from him because of some rogue enemy they couldn't defeat! "I'd rather die right here and now…than to sit here and hope for something that won't last because you feel the need to die for the lot of us…don't tempt me with false promises…don't make me hate you honestly."

His answer was given in the form of being yanked backwards gently by his hair, nose to nose with Goku growling softly in amusement. "Then give me something worth staying here for." He stole his lips and his breath, ravishing him until Vegeta couldn't keep his body from keening on its own without his mind's permission. Goku pulled away, however, allowing Vegeta to breathe and feel a little bereft under the obvious appall of his lack of self-control.

"You'll get used to it," Goku chuckled softly. Vegeta threw him a mild glare, unable to quite voice himself without giving away the state he was in. It didn't stop Goku from laying another softer kiss on his brow, still chucking quietly as he said, "I'm not a complicated person in theory…and mastering me is your goal, isn't it?"

Vegeta didn't quite understand why he was wide awake after that…but he did silently enjoy the bath as Goku set to grooming him as if he were something precious. Vegeta idly thought that perhaps he could bring himself believe it someday…but that day was nowhere within close sight.

"Wait, you actually want to call Chi-chi?"

Yamcha nodded a little, deferring to Gohan who was steadily watching as Bulma moved from point A to B with no true destination, her legs shoveling her forward without her thinking about it and moving about as if the body connected to them didn't have a light on in that skull. It was similar to watching a beast keep moving despite having its neck broken or shot in the head and somehow living through the last moments of its sanity. There were moments where it looked like she would hit the wall, but a last moment dip to the right or left kept her from it and moving with a half empty cup of cold coffee that she couldn't quite bring herself to dump, drink, or throw.

Goku probably would have laughed if he were heartless. In truth he felt awful about the way things had gone, but the truth was the truth. Bulma was the type of person that lived in facts and what she thought was truth. Blowing her mind like this unraveled the world she'd been living in and left her grasping for straws or something to hold onto.

He rubbed the back of his head in thought. If he called Chi-chi…well, there were going to be unpleasant words flying regardless so it didn't really matter if he called her or not. She was going to find out and sure enough the fireworks were going to go off and leave someone singed. While she was a great woman and knew more than she let on, her fiery temper was something to match that of his own in silence when something wasn't quite right in his world. It was the reason they had an understanding of sorts in place. She was fine with his departure and his quest to seek someone else. Really she was. Chi-chi was not, however, ready for her son to do it or to shack up with the one person she thought resembled a wild beast more than anyone else in their group.

It was still a sore point with her, one she wasn't going to let go of too easily, and now with the way Bulma was acting and the silent news of an impending life…

"Well, I did promise I wouldn't die unnecessarily." He looked back at the silent one, Vegeta aimlessly watching Bulma move about without purpose and looking a little lifeless himself. Goku's soft words did snap him out of his quiet musing, a startled noise coming from him before he could squash it and the urge to blush. Goku smiled sideways and winked. "I'm sure Chi-chi won't kill anyone…maybe."

"Are you kidding me?" Yamcha muttered. "She's going to bring the tomahawk and scalp me!"

"She said she'd skin you and fillet you…not scalp you, and besides, she'll change her tune after she finds out about the little one to be."

"And the last thing anyone needs is her moving in with us!"

"Which is why you're calling her."

"WHAT?!"

Goku patted the poor man on his shoulder. "The only way you're going to earn her respect is to do what makes you the most uncomfortable," he said. "You're going to call her, endure her hanging up on you, call her back, and then calmly tell her what's going on. She's going to hang up on you, but I guarantee she'll be here before the day is over."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Yamcha groused.

Goku, simple by nature in his own words, grinned. "She's predictable."

Oh boy...here comes Chi-chi...

This should be interesting. Oh, and in case you're wondering, the smut comes in random intervals. *shrugs* As much as we all love it and want it written, would there really be a plot if I just had Goku take Vegeta and turn him into a babbling mess? I hate hurried stories...You can always tell they were hurried by how quickly shit happens from one chapter to the next.

Shit, now I'm going to fine tooth my other stories. Thanks brain.

Reviews are nice. :)