AN:

And...here's the drama.

Chapter 10: The order of things

Vegeta had seen many things in his life.

"What the fuck are you doing!? He's—shit!"

He had seen good things, and he had seen things that could make a person shit themselves.

"Damn it, stop moving!"

He'd actually seen someone do that. Shit themselves. It wasn't pretty. It didn't smell pleasant either.

"There's no way I'm losing to you!"

So it wasn't really something to categorize as amazing or horrid when he found himself sitting outside of this huge home outside of the city, similar to the one he'd used to live in with Chi-chi but much bigger and hidden well in the forestry that was surrounding them. This was their home for the year, but he wasn't thinking about it or leaving city life right now. He was too busy watching another event in his life unfold, staring upwards with a little bit of awe and reluctant disappointment.

"Agh!"

And just like that, he was staring down at the body before him, sighing as he fought the urge to tell that body the seven different things that went horridly wrong just now.

His son blinked stupidly up at him because of the lack of commentary on his part.

No father wanted to ever feel that burning vomiting sensation in the back of his throat at the sight of his son failing miserably at something. Vegeta, for the most part, was always frustrated at how easy going his son could be about things, even serious things. He tended to be a little cocky if not bullheaded, and he could safely blame a lot of it on himself. There wasn't going to be an inner monologue about his arrival of that thought without it jerking the back of his spine out of his ass. He'd had years to see it, but he was too worried about other things to really do anything about it. He was content with the fact that his son could defend himself. That should have been enough for any father.

Goku certainly didn't think so. He was on the ground and lifting Trunks up by his collar and forcing him back into the arena that had been set up within the air. Trunks wisely didn't mouth off this time. He was still twitching from the way Goku had grabbed him by the neck and none too politely told him to shut up. He said some other things, but Trunks was too stunned to really hear them properly. This time he got the hint, tugged himself out of the "helping" embrace, and leapt back up into the air where Yamcha was waiting.

Goten was waiting as well, but he was on Yamcha's side, flexing his wrists and settling comfortably into his familiar stance. Trunks' steady disbelief was waning into disgust. He'd been so incensed at the thought that Yamcha was stronger than him that he'd openly called him out on it. Yamcha wasn't going to take the bait, but Goku, meddling stronger than them all Goku, had told Yamcha to put Trunks in his place. Trunks cricked his neck to the left and right, regretting his words in the house not an hour before. That didn't stop him from taking on a defensive posture, on high alert from seemingly all angles.

Vegeta sighed outwardly this time. "Idiot."

Trunks was on high alert all right…he was on alert for Goten. What he got was a swift jab to the face from Yamcha moving much too fast for someone like him, or what Trunks thought he was. He was reeling backwards, not ready for the next three blows to his face and the knee that followed. It didn't just sting. It HURT. It drew blood. Trunks broke free of that simple assault and wiped at his mouth, smearing the red substance on his face as he snarled in complete disbelief. He still wasn't ready to believe that someone like Yamcha, a human, and a weaker beta, was besting him in something he clearly excelled at.

And therein lay the problem.

"So, how long has he been like this?" he asked Gohan casually. He really didn't need to know the answer but small talk was better than watching failure being beaten into submission. His son wasn't a failure…what he'd been taught wasn't up to snuff and Goku was kindly pointing it out by making him watch. He was also teaching his boy a lesson in humility, something that Vegeta readily, admittedly sucked at. He wasn't due for his initial freak out for another couple of hours, so he settled into his new role and regarded his newly adopted boy lain out on the lawn chair in an attempt to soak up some sun.

Gohan lifted his glassed and shrugged. "Since the last time he died, I think?" He thought it over and couldn't recall anything better, so he settled for that answer and sat up a little. "When he was wished back, he said that the inner beast within him made him different somehow. It wasn't noticeable to us…apparently it was to my dad and he's been helping him hone it ever since."

"So Kakorrot's been training him in secret."

"It wasn't a secret. We just…didn't acknowledge it. Besides," Gohan said, lowering his voice a little, "Yamcha was a bit of a loner. It's not like he had a reason to just up and pop up and scream to everyone that he wasn't all human."

"…wise move."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've said about him."

"Yeah? Don't get used to it."

Usually someone would have frowned at that. Gohan didn't. He gave him a soft chortle and settled back down into the lawn chair he was laying in. He was under strict orders not to move outside of going to the bathroom, and even If he had to do that he had to let someone know. Vegeta could not understand the reasons why Yamcha was so clingy to the young half breed before now. It wasn't really any of his business and he didn't ask to know. Goku, however, noticed his confusion earlier that day and let him in on the little secret of the over protective cling-fest that was Yamcha and why Gohan was lapping it up.

They were trying not to freak out.

Vegeta couldn't quite imagine the loss of a child he never knew. It wasn't that he wouldn't, he physically could not do it without being violently ill in a way that shocked him severely for a couple of minutes at a time. So far, he'd blanked out twice. The second time was a little less volatile than the first, in which he successfully didn't shake and swallow the vomit back down with the scent of utter disgust and disappointment and anger he didn't see why he needed to feel. It wasn't like he was the one miscarrying.

But he understood Yamcha's stance a little better. It was another reason to add to the list that was growing of why he wasn't correcting his son as he steadily got his tail handed to him.

"Vegeta?"

The smaller saiyan turned from the fight above and found his eyes on Chi-chi. She had a glass in hand, one she handed to him filled to the brim with sweet tea. He took it with a light word of thanks, sipping the top off as she sat herself down at his feet and patted his drawn up knees. "Are you all right?"

"In what manner?" Because seriously, who was all right with this? She must have been able to read his mind or his face or whatever, because she gave him a sympathetic look and patted his hand this time. "Chi-chi…"

"He's not infallible you know." She looked over at Goku as he leapt upwards into the air snatch Goten from the melee and let Trunks and Yamcha duke it out. Goten pouted, but he didn't argue. "He does have his points that are more annoying than others, but who doesn't?"

If it were anyone else, another time, another place…if he was indeed just a prince and not this meshed up thing that was a bundle of emotionally constipated mental issues, he might have told her something else; something not pleasant, something to start a fight, or something that would have her gaping at him for a solid ten minutes. "…this isn't easy for me," is what he said instead, putting down the glass before he leaned forward to rest his head on his knees. "I don't know why he wants someone like me." Who knew someone better than themselves? Yes, denial was a river in Egypt, but who could really lie to themselves about their nature without being truly touched in the head?

Chi-chi laced her fingers in his hair and sighed quietly. "You need to see it for yourself to understand."

That would help. It was a shame that his brain didn't comprehend aside the constant stream of, "I don't want to be anyone else's mistake," which he said aloud, unintentionally, and to his utter dismay. He wanted to take back the words as soon as they left him, but like most things in life, what was done was done.

There was no sudden snatching from his seat by the scruff of his neck like he expected. There was no disgruntled growl or some misplaced piece of anger taken out on a tree or something just as vulnerable. In fact, nothing happened, nothing aside Chi-chi muttering something about getting her hands on his hair as she scratched his scalp softly. He may have let her do that, and he may have dozed a little from that strangely comforting touch…at least until he realized that this was something more than being ungodly weird.

Her heartbeat was sure and steady, and not because of a mental trick she was putting it use. She was honestly at ease, unafraid, and participating in a primal tradition of "grooming" the Alpha's mate. It was a way of bonding for those within a group that had been redefined, a way to assure that the Alpha's mate was indeed in charge and that all questions, concerns, and answers hit him or her first. Vegeta was beginning to remember more and more of his customs as the hours ticked by, and he wondered not for the first time if Goku had gone to find them out, or remembered them instinctively.

Gohan sat up holding himself a little. Chi-chi and Vegeta visibly tensed for a second but relaxed when Gohan lay back down muttering under his breath about settling pains. Apparently they weren't the only ones who'd seen it. It didn't take long for Yamcha, mostly unscathed, to pop in besides his mate and inquire with a look if indeed everything was all right. Gohan glanced back at him, grinned, and rubbed his belly. The world was fine and their kid wasn't moving from its spot.

The next thing anyone knew, Yamcha was sailing backwards from a foot to his face.

Gohan was scrambling to get up, but Chi-chi kept him settled down and looked towards Vegeta. The smaller Saiyan was still staring in disbelief that it had happened, and that he was staring at the after image of his son moving to prove a point that didn't need to be proven. He moved before he could properly think about it, the innate fear of what would happen driving him to move and grab Trunks angrily by the back of his shirt and slam his fist into the side of his head, because seriously, what in the hell good was a brain if someone didn't USE IT?!

Trunks took it like he usually did; with a fair amount of shock and holding his head to stop the ringing. Vegeta hadn't pulled his punches since Trunks had turned fifteen, and while he'd gotten used to them, that didn't mean they never hurt anymore. He stumbled a little, but didn't move more than to stare at his father completely insane with fear and rage that didn't make any more sense to Vegeta than it did to Trunks. Yet, Vegeta understood things his boy didn't, things that needed to be said aloud. It was no one's fault but his own, and he was beginning to see why Goku had done things the way he chose.

"Are you in-fucking-sane?!" Vegeta all but roared. "Did you not see what you just DID?!"

"What I did?!" Trunks spat. "We were sparring! I took an opening and used it to my advantage, or is that not what you've taught me to do?!"

Vegeta ignored the burning ache in his chest and snatched his son by his shirt to yank him close. "Listen to me you little cocky shit," he hissed, "You're going to get yourself KILLED and I am not wishing you back! You just hit Gohan's MATE in front of him!"

"And? He should be able to defend himself in front of his mate, correct?!"

"Yamcha was checking in on Gohan! And in case you haven't looked in a mirror, you're the one sporting all the damn bruises!" He shoved his son away from him. He needed to breathe. He needed to regain his center. "You just disrespected the Alpha's SON by attacking his mate in front of him!"

"Not this Alpha shit again."

"Trunks!"

"No! You don't get to tell me shit about who does what!" Trunks spat at him. "Not when you sure as shit don't follow what anyone else says or does!"

"We're not talking about me!"

"Aren't we?! Am I seriously the only one who does not understand or see the reason WHY this is happening, or why you're so readily accepting it!?" He just about screeched the last part, hands thrown up in the air in complete disgust and unable to bring himself back down to a level that didn't let his mouth run without his brain navigating. "Not one damn thing about this is worth thinking about because it's stupid! Goku is not in charge because he says so!"

"Trunks, it's more complicated than that—"

"And you know what?" he snapped, rounding on his father quicker than he'd slammed his foot into Yamcha's face, "Since when are you Goku's bitch?!"

Vegeta heard the collective gasp and inhaled.

He needed to just not give a shit about centers and inner yen and just let his son have it like he should have done when he was young, dumb, and still impressionable.

So. He did.

The slap that resounded through the trees stunned everyone into not breathing.

Trunks tentatively raised his hand to his face, the sting of that last blow hurting less than the betrayed look on Vegeta's face. He didn't know…he couldn't have known, but the implications didn't make it any less tolerable. Omegas were the equivalent to that more often than not, and he just could not, would not see himself in that role no matter how it might be labeled. His son did not know though, and he wouldn't know. Vegeta was dead set against telling his son what he was and be demeaned further than this. Rather than tell him outright, Vegeta shook his head and ran, willing his chest to stop burning with the weight of defeat and worthlessness hitting him from all sides.

"Nice going dumbass."

Trunks turned around to see Yamcha on his feet, looking no worse for wear than he had before he'd gone flying with that kick to the face. He hadn't said it though. He didn't need to say it. It was all in his face and the sheer contempt aimed at him as Yamcha readily grabbed hold of Gohan rushing over to him to see if he was all right. He shushed Gohan, more worried about their little one jutting out in plain sight when he pressed his hands to his stomach. It was a soft subtle rounding that hadn't been noticeable lying down, but it was hard to ignore now that Gohan was up, in plain sight of Trunks, and announcing that little thing they were waiting to share without meaning to.

He belatedly felt Goten slam his fist into his shoulder. At that moment, he was too busy watching Goku rush after Vegeta and feeling his spine snap to attention when Yamcha, 'weaker than thou so obviously inferior Yamcha', bade him not to move with a hard look that made it difficult to breathe.

He couldn't have run that far. His lungs hurt—burned really—and his legs were like jello, but that was mostly owed to his prior exhaustion and his tripping every fifty feet over some upturned piece of forest determined to bring him down. The last thing he'd run into had him seeing red; the blood easing down the side of his face as he ignored the gash in his head and kept moving out of the way of everything that wanted to suffocate him. Trees rushed by in a blur of green and brown, the occasional branch reaching out to snag something on him. He would rip himself free or snatch that branch clear, tossing the limb to the side like most things in his life.

He couldn't have run that far…he knew he couldn't have. It was near impossible when not several moments after he'd bolted was he snatched back into the arms of his onetime rival, his now one and only Alpha, and a saiyan that struggled to keep him settled when he clearly didn't want to be.

So Vegeta did what he knew best.

Goku went with the blow to his face. He'd taken harder hits from stronger people, but being hit in the face by anyone tended to make someone mad. Goku snarled and Vegeta fully expected him to hit him back.

Goku didn't deliver once again.

Vegeta did the second thing he knew best. He howled in anger and shoved himself out of Goku's embrace, hauling off and punching the closet thing that would break.

The tree didn't have much of a chance of standing after its middle was torn down. It moaned and toppled backwards, groaning with the weight of its massive body falling backward and hitting the earth unable to defend itself. Fauna and birds flew where they could to get out of the way, more than aware that things like this tended to happen on a day to day basis. Dust and leaves settled, the wind still for once that day, and the sun kept shining like nothing was wrong.

Vegeta aimed his fist at something else and found it in Goku's open palm. Deft fingers wrapped themselves around his trembling fist, holding him rather than resisting and shoving backwards to start a fight that wanted to spark itself into awareness. Vegeta let out another noise, rage induced and sure to scare someone somewhere into pissing their pants. Goku stood in front of it, taking that noise and the punch that came with it to yank Vegeta forward and snatch him close.

He held him captive in those immobile arms, and Vegeta did his best to be free of them.

"Kakorrot, let me go!"

"NO."

"Kakorrot! I said—"

"I'm not letting you go, dammit!"

Vegeta struggled again, but there was sheer panic bubbling up from him now as he clawed at those arms. His voice took another role, a pleading one, one that he did not wish upon anyone screaming inside more than they ever wanted their brains to relay as truth when it was all they knew in life. "Kakorrot please!" he cried, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling for all he was worth, "Please, let me go!"

"NO."

"Damn it, stop it! STOP! JUST STOP!" he screamed. "STOP—"

"Stop what?! Stop letting you run away?! Stop letting you ignore what is blatantly in front of you because you can't see outside of what is this lie you've been living?! Oh yes, Vegeta, I will stop that, but I am NOT letting you go."

"YOU DON'T WANT ME!" He screamed it as loud as he could, desperate and willing this idiot holding him to believe what he said as much as he wanted it to be true. He couldn't want him. No one wanted him. He wasn't meant to be wanted and that was the way things were! It was fine before. He was FINE BEFORE.

"If you were so fine…then why are you crying like this?"

Vegeta hadn't even realized he said it aloud. The question was soft, gentling and a shattering force that knocked his knees from under him and had Vegeta sinking right down with his fingers pressed into Goku's arms. He heaved and tried to breathe, but the proper breaths would not come without shuddering soul quaking sobs that robbed him of what little dignity he could have mustered in order to pry himself away from Goku with enough effort. He grit his teeth against the disgusting noises that were coming from him, the tears falling into his mouth relentlessly with the world tightening and screaming until he just couldn't take another moment of it.

He shoved his hands against his ears. Tugged…felt the wetness of something more than his face and then Goku's hands tugging his own down and away, keeping them pinned with his own between them. He couldn't stop shaking with the effort to stop it all as it spiraled out of control; the voices telling him again what he knew, what he felt, and what he wasn't ready to stop believing was the ultimate truth. Goku couldn't want him…he didn't know what he wanted because no one wanted a fucked up menace that would rather die than burden any child with the knowledge that they came from such a place of utter disgrace.

He said so.

Screamed it.

Yelled it.

Goku listened and still didn't let him go.

"You fucking idiot!" Vegeta was beyond his normal tendencies now, forgoing the usual sharp blade of a tongue that had been his weapon of choice since he could remember. "I am a fucking OMEGA…and I'm not…not even that," he cried brokenly. He just couldn't understand. Goku kept staring at him, listening, not moving, not offering words to counter his own. He just sat there holding his hands, keeping them down as Vegeta felt the bottom of his known world upend itself in his stomach. He swallowed the bile in his throat back down, but the sobs just would not stop. "I can't…I can't even…"

Vegeta was falling. He was falling forward and being crushed to death by those arms. He hoped they would kill him kindly, but he wasn't quite that lucky. He thought that would be the end of it; that it would be a final gesture and he'd be set free, but that stupid overbearing lumbering simpleton of a saiyan just had to say the one thing that Vegeta never in his life wanted to hear from anyone.

"If I didn't want you…you wouldn't be alive."

Like that was supposed to be some life turning point in his existence?! Vegeta pulled back enough to look at him, to tell him by no means was saying something like that going to make things okay, but the words stuck in his throat when he felt the first tear his face when Goku shoved up and into his space, breathing him in and just willing him to sit, listen, and not TALK. Vegeta couldn't form words right then anyhow. He was too busy trying to comprehend why anyone would waste tears over him.

"Kakorrot…"

"Not one piece of that shit out of your mouth is true," Goku breathed harshly. "Not one fucking iota. You aren't some worthless omega, and you're certainly NOT my bitch. I don't want an omega. I want YOU. I want someone who understands me from the inside out and will let me be ME, and you…you're those things Vegeta…you're just to fucking stupid to see it."

"The fuck—stupid?!"

"Yes, fucking stupid, and if that's what you're taking out of this you're just an idiot, and I KNOW you're not some random idiot," he murmured shoving their heads together. Vegeta growled at him, and he got a growl back that was a little worse than his own. It said so much and so little, but the rage urge to blow something up lessened itself a little bit. "You've got so much untapped potential Vegeta, you could be so fucking much…and I hate that this innate fear of what you are is holding you back like this."

It was innate, yes, but it was a genuine fear that could have landed him in hot water, or gotten him killed. He didn't have to say it for Goku to know, but the unsaid words lingered in their mingled gazes. This wasn't some fight they could just wander into and defeat like normal. The prince was not strong enough to just take this thing on and do what he claimed he could always do without help. Goku couldn't just come out of the woodworks and beat this sickness into submission. It was driving him bat shit crazy, and Vegeta didn't know how to respond to him and his concerns.

Really, no one had ever really given much of a damn about him or his feelings…

"Vegeta…I do want you."

…Until now apparently…or before. Vegeta wasn't sure and he wasn't looking to pinpoint when his life had turned itself inside out, upside-down and another flavor. His head hurt too much for all that. He put his head down, nose buried against the slight sweat slicked skin of the Alpha against him, inhaling the scent of the woods and the air and the familiar musk of Goku wrapping itself around his addled brain and body to comfort him. The arms around him tightened and brought him close. He may or may not have buried himself deeper into those arms and just sagged for as long as he was allowed to.

He was tired.

"Please…Fix me…."

Tired enough to let that slip and let it stand as it came. The soft, "I'm trying to," was enough make him believe that maybe…maybe life wasn't quite as shitty as it seemed at times.

His son, however, was in such major shit.

What? What's that? What am I doing?!

I don't knoooow. It's kinda flowing on its own right now.

and yeah...Trunks is in some trouble. A lot. MAJOR. (might kill him? Mmmmm no. Maim him? Yeeaah.)