He loved them both, that he knew for certain. He had married his wife and had two wonderful children with her. She was the brain behind his brawn, keeping his world afloat with her inner strength and moral beauty. He could not forsake her even now knowing that he had made such a strong connection with Vegeta.
But he wasn't going to let Vegeta go either. The older saiyajin had always been a source of awe and inspiration for him, even before he had begun developing further, confusing feelings for him. The prince was everything Goku was not. He was proud, arrogant, and resourceful. The horrors Vegeta had faced in his life would have been insurmountable if they had happened to him. Never would he have been able to go on if someone had destroyed his family and home. To be beaten, degraded and forced into subservience for most of his life…he would have sooner been killed.
ChiChi was a great caretaker. Even with the multiple times he had left her alone to raise their children, she always welcomed him home with open arms—and a few choice words. She had loved him with all of his faults for many years, and there were still years left in her yet. He wouldn't break her heart so late in life. He didn't think he could even if he tried.
The teapot house loomed closer and Goku landed, deciding to walk the remainder to give him further time to think. The trees swayed in the breezes, the familiar smell of his home comforting. At the back of his mind, the tightly shut mental connection with Vegeta was a source of incredible pain for him. He had hurt the other saiyajin, deeply, by running back to his wife. They had spent many days together without these complications and hadn't once thought about them. Now they had to face them all at once.
ChiChi was surprised when he opened the door a few minutes later.
"Goku! You're home early, I expected to have to call over to Bulma's and harass you to get here on time." She smiled at him and wiped her hands on the dish towel. Goku didn't have the heart to laugh at her jibe. ChiChi frowned slowly and came from the sink and around the table. "Goku, are you alright? You look like something terrible has happened."
"I…" Goku sat down slowly in the nearest chair. ChiChi quickly drew one up in front of him and rested a comforting hand on his knee.
"Honey, what is it?" Her sable eyebrows were dipped in worry.
"Something happened at Bulma's a few month—I mean a few minutes ago." Goku cleared his throat and rested his head in the palm of his hands to try and gather his thoughts. "How long do you have until your appointment?"
ChiChi hurriedly checked the wall clock, "About forty minutes, now tell me what is going on!"
"Okay," Goku said softly. "That should give me some time to tell you the basics." He smiled sadly at his wife and swept her out of her chair into a hug. ChiChi hugged him back, more panicked now than before. "I missed you, Chi."
"Goku, you've only been gone for a couple of hours," ChiChi sniffed, tearing up as the worst possible images began to flood her mind.
"Not for me. It's been longer, a lot longer." Goku let her sit down again and drew in a deep breath. "It started when Bulma called this morning about some new machine she'd finished. It actually turned out to be a time machine, one she'd modeled after the one the future Trunks had come in…"
---
Vegeta was sweating great beads as he worked out ruthlessly in the Gravity Chamber. He had not been training in the intense weight for quite a while and should have dropped the amount down by five or so. Unfortunately for his aching body, he had increased it the moment he stepped in by nearly twenty.
His body screamed for a break. Every joint squeaked, every tendon twanged, every muscle groaned in pain. Vegeta didn't really notice and tried to embrace what aching his body was managing to knock into his brain. If he focused on the outside pain, the pain on the inside seemed a little less.
His connection to Kakkarot was sealed off tightly and he had to keep a conscious effort to keep it that way. Eventually, if he practiced it long enough, maybe it would stay shut without so much concentration. He didn't want to hear the baka's pleading. Or worse, his excuses.
Oh, it hurt. It probably would have hurt far less if Kakkarot had only reached in and literally tore his heart out. At least then he would be dead and not have to suffer like this. He scolded himself. He should have seen this coming. It was too much to ask that the third class idiot would stand beside him.
The idiot's strength, innocence, and undying love for his family. How he had envied him the first for nearly a decade. It was unfair that Kakkarot could be so strong when it came so effortlessly to him. Vegeta had to scream and scrape to earn what he could, and still he could not catch up to the other saiyajin's ability. Eventually the desire to beat the living tar from him faded, and it was enough to be standing beside him in a fight.
His innocence was never ending. It amazed Vegeta how the man had killed so many, utterly destroyed life—no matter how evil—and not become jaded by it; or by his own strength. It was almost childlike how dense he was to the ways of the world. It was the good in him, Vegeta had decided years ago. The untainted, pure good in the saiyajin's soul left him so innocent and chaste against evil. It was no wonder that evil fell before him time and time again.
As for the baka's love…he thought he had it. Or at least a good facsimile. It was a beautiful thing to watch Kakkarot with his sons. Even though their father had been absent for whole sections of their life, both of the brats had welcomed him home and loved him all the stronger. And Kakkarot, with his large heart and loving soul, could find no fault in them.
When his eldest had married and moved away, he had thrown rice and laughed loud with the rest, proud of the accomplishments the young man had made. But Vegeta had seen the longing in the saiyajin's brown eyes as he watched the boy leave. His son no longer needed him as he had, and that overwhelming love he had for his child had wept. But the granddaughter the boy brought home one day had been more than enough to heal him. The girl was Kakkarot's whole world.
Just like ChiChi.
Vegeta swore as his eyes prickled and his throat closed up tight. "Fuck you, Kakkarot," he strangled out.
Lights in the gravity room began to blink and the gravity slowly dropped. The saiyajin prince stalked forward on his rubbery legs and stared down at the panel. The infernal machine had overheated.
He slammed doors all the way through Capsule Corps as he made his way toward his room. Mrs. Briefs had scrambled from his path and didn't bother to make a witty remark.
"Daddy," Bra squeaked from her bedroom doorway.
Vegeta stilled and took several deep breaths before looking back her expectantly.
"Is your machine broked?" She asked in her small, four year old voice.
"Yes," Vegeta said tightly, trying to control his anger. His daughter was not the cause, she did not need to be the tool to take it out on.
"Do you wanna play with me?" She asked hopefully, her eyes wide.
"I'm busy," he said stiffly, wiping the towel around his neck and down his face.
"Okay," she said quietly, eyes downcast.
A flood of horror filled him as he posture reminded him so badly of himself at her age standing before Freeza. He touched the top of her head and caressed her silken hair. She looked back up at him and turned her head into his hand like a cat. He smirked down at his daughter and cupped her cheek in his calloused hand.
"Would you help me make something to eat?"
"Yes," she chirruped happily, then quickly schooled her features to match her fathers. "Yes, daddy," she said again with more composure.
"Good, give me a moment."
Vegeta showered quickly and changed. As he picked up his clothing, the small silver disk fell from his pocket and he plucked it up between his fingers. A memory from another world, another time. He stuffed it into the bottom drawer of his dresser and slammed it shut.
He met his little girl at the top of the stairs and together they went to the kitchen to make a snack.
---
ChiChi was gaping, arms splayed across the table and shaking her head.
"…we finally managed to destroy Freeza. Again." Goku took a deep breath in and rubbed his eyes.
"Wait, wait…" ChiChi held up a hand. "Freeza? The Freeza? How did he get to Medium Earth?"
"Middle Earth," Goku corrected. He shrugged his broad shoulders, "I'm not really sure how he made it there. If it hadn't been for Vegeta, I would have died."
"Vegeta…" ChiChi frowned thoughtfully. "That's the hundredth time you mentioned him."
Goku nodded his head slowly, turning beseeching eyes to his wife.
"Yea, Vegeta," he said softly.
"Goku," the woman touched his hand. "What is it about Vegeta? Did he do something to you?" Her eyes hardened.
"No!" Goku shook her hand off, alarmed. "I mean, not how you think. I… Chi, do you remember a conversation we had last year, when you were really sick, remember?"
The woman leaned back in her chair with her arms over her chest. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Yes."
"When you said you wanted me to—"
"I wanted you to find someone else to love." ChiChi nodded, "Yes, I remember." Her eyes narrowed, and then grew round. "Are you…are you telling me, that you, a-and Vegeta…?"
Goku nodded glumly, "We reached an understanding, Chi… I don't want you to be mad at me or Vegeta either. We were gone for a long time, and eventually it became hard to ignore."
"Goku…"
"And, I didn't really know if we would ever make it back!"
"Goku…"
"I don't want you mad, ChiChi, but you have to try to understand—"
"Goku! I get it." ChiChi held a hand over his mouth. "I do understand. I don't have to like it," she gave him a hard look, "but I do understand it."
"Oh, good." Goku sighed heavily.
The clock on the wall chimed softly and they both looked at it in surprise. "We have to go, my appointment's in five minutes!"
They both climbed into the car and within a matter of moments were headed toward Mercy Hospital in Satan City. The drive was not long, but somehow stifling. ChiChi kept casting odd looks at her husband and Goku was trying to ignore them.
ChiChi pulled up into an empty parking space and turned in the bucket seat. "Goku, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly."
"Ooookay," Goku swallowed hard.
"Do you have feelings for him?" ChiChi's dark gaze was scrutinizing. "Still?"
"Yes," Goku said softly, using most of his willpower to not look away from ChiChi's face.
"Do you still love me?" She asked softly, her eyes slowly growing glassy.
"Yes," he said with more conviction. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.
"We're going to discuss this after my appointment," She unlocked her door and looped her arm through his as they went through the automatic doors. "I just need you to be honest with me."
"Of course, ChiChi," Goku nodded.
She smiled up at him and together they made it to her appointment, only a few minutes late.
---
Bulma entered the kitchen and paused in the entry. Vegeta was standing over the stove, stirring something in a pan. Bra was at her father's side, passing him ingredients as he asked quietly for them.
"Something smells nice," Bulma said quietly.
"Me and daddy are cooking," Bra said happily as she passed her father the pepper from the table.
"I see that," Bulma entered and kissed the girl on her head. She watched them for a while longer, smiling softly as Bra gazed up at her father with adoring eyes. Now and then Vegeta would rest his hand atop his daughter's head and the girl would close her eyes in delight.
"Bra, honey, would you see if your brother is cleaning his room? Hmm?" The little girl turned her eyes up to her father and Vegeta nodded without looking down at her.
"Okay, momma," and the little girl went bouncing off to find Trunks.
Vegeta continued to cook with his back to her. Bulma reclined against the counter beside him and watched his profile.
"Vegeta—"
"I don't want to talk about it," he hissed and stabbed violently at the beef in the pan.
"Then at least listen—"
"No!"
"Dammit, Vegeta!" Bulma cried, slamming her hand down on the countertop. "You have to understand that things are different now. It was easy when we were gone, there were no extraneous ties. But Goku has a family here, a wife, you knew that when you started."
Vegeta's hand tightened on the handle of the pan and he grunted. "I know," he said gruffly.
"Well, Vegeta," Bulma huffed, "what did you expect then?"
The saiyajin prince didn't answer.
Silently, Bulma watched as Vegeta got down a plate and served himself his meal. As an afterthought he took down a smaller dish and put some food there. He popped the cap off a gallon of milk and sat down with it at the table to eat.
"Vegeta—"
"It is not open for discussion," he spat, glaring up at her from over his plate.
Bra tiptoed into the room and paused, looking between her parents with a little trepidation.
"Daddy?"
"Come sit by me," Vegeta pulled out a chair and set the smaller plate of food beside him.
Bra smiled happily and clambered up, clutching a small glass of milk Vegeta poured for her from his gallon jug in both chubby hands.
Bulma set a series of napkins on the table and sighed. "You have a family too, Vegeta. Would you leave your children if Goku demanded you to?" She whispered into his ear.
The woman left before Vegeta could reply and he watched his daughter eat with a fondness in his chest. He looked around the room and made sure they were indeed alone. He laid a butterfly light kiss on the girl's head.
Bra looked up at him with bright eyes and hugged him tightly around the chest. He held her loosely with one arm for a moment. "Eat, your food will get cold."
---
Goku helped his wife back into the car and drove them slowly home. The doctor had used a bunch of long words that he didn't really understand, but the amount of medications ChiChi had picked up from the pharmacy told him enough. He may not have a large vocabulary and a doctorate in medicine, but he knew what he saw.
"Alright, Goku," ChiChi said, turning in her seat to watch him as he drove. "We're going to talk about this, alright?"
"About what?" Goku asked, unsure of whether it was her sickness or Vegeta they were going to broach.
"This thing between you and Vegeta." ChiChi clarified, tucking her bag of medication deeply into her purse.
"Okay," Goku mumbled.
"First things first, do you love him?"
Goku nearly swerved out of the road but managed to correct in time to miss a mailbox. "I—I don't know… I think so."
"How can you not know?" ChiChi asked, truly curious.
"It's different. I mean, I always want to protect you, keep you safe and make sure you're happy. But with Vegeta… I know he can care for himself, you know? I mean, he's really strong, he doesn't need me to watch out for him."
ChiChi nodded slowly and played idly with a strand of hair that had fallen out of her bun. "Is there anything else? It can't be just your noble need to protect, Goku. Love is more than that."
Goku thought it over for a time and blushed, "Well I, I want him."
"For what?"
The blush grew darker and Goku coughed lightly into his fist, "I, I just want him."
"Oh!" ChiChi's eyes grew round and she colored herself. "You want… with Vegeta?"
"Yea," Goku admitted.
"Well, that… I mean, that's lust. It's still not love," ChiChi blurted, her mind cramping as it tried to imagine her husband and the older saiyajin together.
"It hurts," Goku said softly, turning onto the road that led back to their home.
"What hurts?" ChiChi asked with a concerned face.
"Everything. I think about him and my chest squeezes until I don't think I can breathe. I-I-I can feel him, in my head, and I want to scream until it goes away," Goku took a deep breath after he ended his rant and glanced to his wife. ChiChi was looking out the side window. "ChiChi?"
"Oh, Goku," She sighed. The car stopped outside their house. She unbuckled and leaned across the seat, hugging him tightly around the shoulders. "Go on."
"What do you mean?"
ChiChi shoved him out of the car and withdrew from her side of the car. "I'm saying, go to him."
"But, ChiChi, we're still married, I can't just run off with him because—"
"Goku," ChiChi had covered his mouth again. "You may not have been the best husband, but you are still a good one. You are a good father, and you have enough heart to make up for all the wrongs in the world. I am so happy that I could be one person that you love so much. But there's enough heart left in you to love someone else. I know that. And, I accept it."
"But what about Gohan—"
"What about him?" ChiChi demanded. "It isn't his business if you love someone else, Goku. He will accept it, and get over it."
"Goten—"
"Will understand more than you think." ChiChi smiled secretly. "He's been spending an inordinate amount of time with Trunks."
"Oh, wow." Goku breathed. "Are you sure—"
"Go on, Goku. I'm sure." ChiChi hugged him tightly. "If he loves you like I do, he misses you so badly it hurts now that you've gone. Especially if he thinks he's lost you for a long time."
"I love you, ChiChi." Goku said sternly, kissing her all over her face.
"I know," ChiChi smiled, "and I love you too. And so does Vegeta."
---
Vegeta was sitting cross-legged in front of the couch, reclining back against it. The television was on full blast and he was flicking through the channels, never staying on one for longer than five minutes.
His current channel was an infomercial with a loud mouthed harpy giggling over a knife that could cut through anything. He wondered idly if she would still giggle and fawn if the knife was cutting off her arm 'as though through butter!'
The doorbell chimed, though he could barely hear it over the television. "Someone get the door!"
Mrs. Briefs traipsed through the hall, waving happily at Vegeta and made her way toward the front of the house. Vegeta snorted and flicked the channel button.
A soap opera was playing on this station. An overly polished woman was swooning against a dark, mysterious man. "Oh, Rick, you don't understand, I love you!"
Vegeta snorted and changed the channel.
"'Geta?"
The saiyajin prince stiffened, the remote control slipping from his fingers to the plush carpet.
"Vegeta, I need to talk to you," Goku said. He sat down on the edge of the couch, his thigh just brushing Vegeta's shoulder.
"There's nothing to talk about," Vegeta made to get up, but Goku stopped him by resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Please, Vegeta." Goku's voice cracked and the ouji sat still, cautiously opening their bond link a crack. A trickle of worry, remorse, and affection broke through and he clamped it shut again.
"I talked to ChiChi." Goku felt Vegeta's shoulder muscle tighten at his wife's name.
"How is the harpy?" Vegeta spat.
"Vegeta," Goku said stiffly in warning, "I think she's dying."
Guilt flooded his stomach, but Vegeta pushed it away.
"She's on more medicine, and the doctor set her up another appointment for next week, but that's not why I'm here." Goku slipped to the floor beside Vegeta and stretched his legs out in front of him.
Vegeta flinched away from him and Goku sighed unhappily.
"Vegeta, I want to say I'm sorry," Goku looked at him pleadingly, but Vegeta kept staring up at the television screen. "I don't want to know what you must think of me right now, but I don't want you to be angry with me."
"Too late, Kakkarot," Vegeta mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I can't explain it to you, Vegeta. I don't know what to say to make it right, I don't even know if I can. I still want you," Goku bit his lip, "want you—in my life. Please don't make me go back to the way we were, I don't think I can."
"What do you want from me, Kakkarot?" Vegeta hissed, finally snapping his head around to glare. "Do you want me to weep, accept your apology with open arms and promise my undying love for you? It is not going to happen."
"No, Vegeta," Goku frowned, "I just want you to listen. If you can't even do that for me, then maybe all of this was just a mistake. If all you wanted when we were gone was a quick fuck, you could have found someone else."
Goku stood with a growl and stalked to the front of the house. Vegeta scrambled up and stormed after him, his mind whirling. Kakkarot did not swear often.
"How dare you," he snapped, grabbing hold of the larger saiyajin's shoulder and spinning him around. "How dare you come into my house and lie to my face. If I wanted a fuck from you, I would have taken it! And I would certainly not have allowed this!" He yanked the collar of his shirt down with a hiss, the crescent scar exposed.
"Then tell me! Do you want me to leave? Do you want me stay? I'll fight for this Vegeta, but if you don't want it, then I'll go home now." Goku shook the slighter saiyajin by the shoulders.
"Of course I want it," Vegeta howled, throwing Goku into a wall. The drywall cracked and a puff of dust filtered through the air. He hauled Goku down to eye level, not caring that the large saiyajin was doubled over uncomfortably. "I do not share."
"You'll have to," Goku said softly, "because I still love my wife, and my kids, and my friends. You can't lock me in a closet and keep me to yourself, Vegeta."
The fist in his collar shook and Goku pried his shirt collar free. He kissed Vegeta softly on the cheek and turned.
"Kakkarot," Vegeta yelled after him, voice cracking. Goku grabbed at his chest as his heart clenched at the heartache in the prince's voice, but he kept walking.
Your move, Vegeta, he thought as he leapt off of the front stoop and into the air.
Vegeta followed him to the front door and watched Goku take off. He clenched his jaw and his fists as the third class disappeared.
With eyes closed and fists shaking, Vegeta slowly opened the link between them and sat down heavily. Goku's heart was aching to break.
---
Goku flew to Dende's lookout and sat on the outer rim, looking down at the planet as life there moved on without him.
The small Namekian was nowhere to be seen, but Goku didn't mind. He was welcoming his newfound solitude. He knew the exact moment when Vegeta's link was open again. He tried to keep his emotions under control and try not to draw any of Vegeta's into his mind. The ouji was careful to only let muted emotions go, but Goku was happy enough anyway. It may or may not have been something Goku had said that made Vegeta open the link, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
He was surprised to feel Vegeta's ki coming toward the lookout. He would have never expected Vegeta to make an effort. Goku thought he would have had to wait a couple of days to let Vegeta calm down before he went off to find him.
The small saiyajin prince landed softly on the marbled flooring nearly ten minutes later.
"Sit with me, Vegeta," Goku said softly, patting the space beside him without turning to look at him.
After a moment's hesitation, Vegeta walked over and sat gingerly down beside him.
"Kakkarot, I do not," Vegeta paused, hands moving in agitation as he tried to express himself. "I do not know how to handle this situation."
"Me either," Goku admitted, swinging his feet.
"I don't like to share," Vegeta started, holding a hand up to stop Goku from interrupting, "but at one time, I did not like you either."
Goku sidled up to the smaller man and swung an arm over his shoulders. "Well, I like you. And I'm willing to defend this—whatever this is—from anyone who can't handle it. I just want you to know when to back me up," he looked down at Vegeta, "and when to back off."
"Hnn," Vegeta grunted, trying not to relax against Goku's side.
"ChiChi is going to go through a really rough time really soon." Goku said quietly. "She's old Vegeta, and she's sick. And I plan on being there for her every agonizing minute."
"I understand," Vegeta nodded.
"I'm glad you do," Goku looked down at him drawing the ouji closer. He kissed Vegeta's temple. "Are we okay. For now, anyway?"
"Yes," Vegeta replied after a moment. "For now."
Goku smiled, thin lipped, and bit Vegeta's shoulder until the saiyajin grunted, then kissed the spot. "Good." He scooped Vegeta onto his lap and wound his arms around the prince's waist.
"Kakkarot," Vegeta warned.
Goku could sense his unease and softly kissed the back of his neck. "It's okay 'Geta. I just want to hold you for a bit." A wave of apprehension ran through him. Maybe Vegeta didn't want him to. "Is-is that okay?"
Vegeta reclined into Goku's chest and threaded his fingers through Goku's, "Yes, Kakkarot. It's okay."
---
They spent the rest of the daylight sitting on the Lookout, sharing tales and remembering the time they had spent on Middle Earth.
Dende came to them just as the sun was setting. The young Namek greeted them fondly and didn't seem the least bit surprised at their proximity. "Hello Goku, hello Vegeta."
"Hey, Dende," Goku chirruped.
The Namek's smile faded a little and he gnawed on his lower lip.
"Have either of you seen Piccolo?"
Goku thought and shook his head. "Not since we got back, why?"
"He came by earlier, he seemed a little upset. He kept asking me weird questions and then just left."
Vegeta snorted, "Regrets it already," he mumbled to himself.
"Regrets what?" Dende asked innocently, eyes wide.
"Leaving," Vegeta replied as if it answered everything.
"Don't worry, Dende," Goku patted the Namek's arm. "Piccolo knows what he's doing."
The saiyajns stretched and leapt from the Lookout's edge, bound for Capsule Corps. Dende waved as they disappeared, worried as he was left with more questions than answers. To make matters worse, he couldn't feel the other Namek's ki anywhere on the planet. It was as though he had simply disappeared.
