All rights belong to Akira Toriyama, Toyotarou and Toei Animation

This is based on the manga cannon, so there may be some discrepancies with the anime.

"Gohan!" Bulma cried, slipping her arms around the young man in an enthusiastic hug, "It's so good to see you!"

"You too, Bulma!"

"Come in, come in! Goten's already here." Although he probably already knew that. It must be handy to be able to sense where people were. "He's upstairs playing with Trunks. Just the adults downstairs today."

She led Gohan inside, a spring in her step as she directed him to the living room where Krillen was already seated, snacking freely on the nibbles. Even at such short notice, and with only a few invitees, Bulma had insisted on a proper party, complete with party food and decorations. Blue and pink bunting hung from the walls, along with balloons in various colours. A few gifts sat in a pile next to the food, bright colours begging to be unwrapped. A moment later, Panchy and Dr Brief meandered in with glasses and a small esky of soft drink.

It wasn't much of a party, by Bulma's standards, but it was something.

"So, congratulations!" Gohan said joyfully, "I was really surprised when you told me! You should have said earlier."

"Ah, well, you know how chaotic it can get," she explained, taking the proffered gift with a short thanks, "And I wanted to get through a few months before breaking the news, being my age, just in case…"

"I understand."

Bulma dropped onto the couch behind a small bundle of gifts, unwrapping Gohan's first with gusto.

"Thank you, Gohan," she commented, as the paper gave way to reveal a collection of bibs. None of the other presents were particularly exciting – they were for the baby after all. Nappies, a mobile and a papoose.

She would have liked to see Vegeta with that one.

But if he did recover enough to acknowledge his children, it probably wouldn't be for a while, based on his relationship with Trunks. And it would take more than acknowledgment to coax him into one of those.

"Thank you, guys, these will be very helpful."

The snacks were calling her now that her guests had taken a sample, and the crackers crunched delightfully in her mouth. She was also looking forward to those tantalisingly pink-coated biscuits Krillen had brought, as well as, of course, the bowl of strawberries.

"So, Gohan," Bulma broke in, realising that she had not seen him in some time. She hadn't seen anyone except Krillen in a while, actually. But she wasn't ready to face anyone else. "How are Videl and Pan?"

"Videl is fine. She's thinking about going back to work, soon, since Piccolo is really capable with Pan. Speaking of, she's started walking."

"Pan's walking? Oh, how exciting for you!"

"Yeah, already toddling around the house. They grow up so fast, you know. I was warned, but…"

"Yes, it does go quickly," Bulma contributed, mind wandering back to Trunks' first steps all those years ago. Vegeta had been so impatient with him, thinking at first that Trunks was disabled. She gathered saiyans developed a lot faster than humans. Trunks was a little ahead in reaching his milestones, but not unnaturally so. Gohan seemed to realise where her thoughts had turned, because he asked

"How is Trunks, Bulma?"

"He's…he's a teenager."

It wasn't a real answer, explaining everything and nothing at the same time.

"What do you mean? What's happening with him? Goten's been really worried – he even called me up to ask for advice."

Bulma sighed, rubbing her forehead and wishing they could have enjoyed the snacks for a little longer before broaching this subject.

"He's just…not coping well, is all."

"Not coping with what?"

There is was, the big question. There was no use trying to hide it, trying to answer but not answer like a politician. Eventually the truth would come out, or part of it, and she wanted to control the circumstances in which it did so. If Gohan learned about the change in Vegeta just from bumping into him, he would have no context to work with.

"You remember some months ago there was a black haze everywhere?"

"Yeah, I remember," Gohan frowned, "What happened with that? And what's that got to do with Trunks?"

"You might recall that it changed people, warped them into violent and angry shadows of what they once were."

"You mean Trunks…"

"No, not directly," she refuted, "You see, it was harming people and Vegeta…didn't like that. So in order to stop it, he…well, he fused with it. The Darkness. Pulled it all into himself and imprisoned it within his own soul. Or that's how I understand it."

"Let me guess…that wasn't good for him?"

"No, not in the slightest. It changed him, Gohan. Transformed him. Made him revert back to how he was when he first came here. Not in the least like the father Trunks was used to. Poor Trunks didn't know how to handle it. He's become very aggressive, accusatory. He won't listen to me. I grounded him for his language and for the yelling but he ignored me. Just went off for a fly a few days later. I can't control him, Gohan, and Vegeta is not interested."

"Oh, wow, that's…I'm really sorry, Bulma. About your family. Your whole family," he looked at Bulma's parents, their faces uncharacteristically downcast, "This must be so hard for you."

Bulma merely nodded, unable to speak for fear of unburdening all of her problems on the young man. He didn't deserve that. He had his own family to worry about, with a small child that was bound to be trouble soon, if she wasn't already.

"Do you think Vegeta will…come back?" he asked tentatively.

Bulma looked away, her eyes drawn once again to that photograph of their wedding.

"I don't know, Gohan," she confessed. And she wasn't trying not to give him false hope either. She really didn't know the answer. Some days she was certain he was getting better, others, she lost all conviction in him.

Maybe he would improve, but totally? She couldn't help but doubt that, and the depression must have shown on her face, because Gohan rose from his seat to pat her shoulder, kneeling in front of her with a keen expression on his face.

She was reminded of how much he had struggled in life, from being kidnapped at a young age, to losing his mentor and adventuring to save him while still a small child. Trying to live a normal life while being immensely strong, not really wanting that strength, wishing it was someone else's because Gohan had been forced into a life of fighting, hadn't chosen it at all. Losing his father because the man refused to return, thinking it would be safer for them if he stayed away, knowing but not acknowledging that his wife was pregnant, that Gohan would have to be the man of the house for his mother's sake and for the child on the way.

Gohan, strong, capable Gohan, who hadn't even realised his surrogate uncle was no longer present, not really.

"Do you want me to speak with them? Either of them?"

Of course he would offer, and he meant it to, would have gone off after settling her if he thought it would help. But he didn't want to risk making the situation worse.

"I honestly don't know, Gohan. Thank you for the offer. You can try, I suppose. Just don't be surprised if they…don't take too kindly to interference."

"I might check in on them later, then." He gave her a wide grin, "We have a party happening now, after all."

Bulma nodded, turning her attention resolutely to the snacks, feeling her cravings push her towards a selection of nuts she wouldn't normally eat.

"Hey Bulma," Krillen chose that moment to interject, "What are you hoping for?"

What was she hoping for? Her husband to come back, her son to settle down, her family to go back to normal. She was hoping for an easy birth, a healthy baby. A – oh, he meant gender.

"I don't mind, Krillen, as long as it's healthy."

"You don't know?" Gohan asked, eyes wide.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. Vegeta was hoping for a girl, though."

"Vegeta wanted a girl?!" Krillen cried out, at the same time Gohan commented

"But I thought he wouldn't be…you know, interested."

"Yes," Bulma found herself laughing a little, even though the reminder of those nights, so long ago now, stung her, "Vegeta wanted a girl. He never told me exactly why. Wanted to name her Parsnyppe, which I assume was someone he knew, but that will just get her teased. I was thinking 'Bra', if it's a girl."

"Yeah, that won't get her teased at all," Krillen muttered under his breath.

"If it's a boy, well, Vegeta thought Trunks should have been named after him, since the past few kings had all had that name, but he was away at the time so he didn't get a say in it. Besides, having two Vegetas would just be confusing. Maybe Jocks?" she paused, "But as to what you were saying, Gohan, we talked about this, at length, before the Darkness came. This baby was not an accident."

She fell silent.

"He was looking forward to having another one."

She felt thin arms wrap around her as Panchy leaned into her side, "Don't you worry dear, he'll be a father again. Mark my words."

"Thanks, Mum."

Sated on party food, Gohan decided to try Trunks first. Taking two slices of the pink and blue-coloured sponge cake, he ascended the stairs in search of the theatre room, where Bulma had said Trunks should be. Neither of the boys were bothering to hide their energy, so Gohan could confirm Bulma's guess as he stood outside the door, wondering how he was going to get in.

Eventually, he kicked gently on the wood, careful not to unleash his strength.

"Hey, boys, I come bearing cake!"

"Oooh, cake!" came an excited shout from Goten, and the door was wrenched open. Goten's face was open and inviting, a wide smile on his face as he contemplated the treat. Trunks was still sitting in front of the television, paused on one of his racing games. He had turned to glare at Gohan for interrupting, face pinched in a familiar scowl, reminding Gohan of the father responsible for this attitude.

"Hey Trunks," he greeted heartily, as if his fierce expression had no effect.

"What do you want?" Trunks demanded suspiciously, probably used to adult interventions.

"I brought you both a piece of the…baby shower cake," because it wasn't a birthday cake, but it needed an occasion-name.

"Hmph," Trunks rose slowly from his position, unfolding his limbs, which might have been longer than the last time Gohan saw him – had he finally started growing? He took the extended cake roughly, immediately turning his back on Gohan, as if a paused screen was more interesting. After the boy had swallowed a few bites, Gohan decided the break the repressive silence.

"Say, Trunks, up for a spar?"

He looked like he needed to work out those emotions on something, and since his father was not about to offer, it was up to Gohan. Goten probably hadn't thought to propose it, which was good because Gohan wasn't sure his younger brother would be able to handle a Trunks in this mood. The older boy was slightly more powerful, after all.

Gohan was torn on what he hoped the answer would be. Trunks obviously could do with some exercise, some way to work out his temper. But Gohan was not dressed appropriately, and didn't want to ruin a nice shirt.

Still, Trunks was more important than his wardrobe.

"No," the boy bit out, still not looking at Gohan.

"Are you sure?" he tried again, trying not to be miffed at the anger clear in his voice.

"Yes, I'm not interested. Now get out."

"Alright," Gohan said placidly, "I'm leaving."

He backed out into the corridor, closing the door smoothly and with reluctance. But if Trunks didn't want to talk, then Gohan couldn't force him.

He would have to admit defeat to Bulma, and try the second option.

He wasn't looking forward to facing that fireball either.

"I'm sorry, Bulma," he apologised, returning to the living room, "He wouldn't talk to me. Shall I try Vegeta next?"

"Only if you want to…" she said, hesitant.

"It's okay, Bulma. I don't mind."

He really didn't. He had seen Vegeta at his worst, and at his best. He had fought alongside him while he had still been an arrogant and self-centred person bent on domination. Gohan wasn't afraid of Vegeta. Trained by Piccolo when the namekian still thought of himself as the reincarnation of evil, Vegeta's attitude was familiar to Gohan, and not threatening in the least.

That didn't mean he was looking forward to it, though.

He wasn't afraid, just…disappointed. Not in Vegeta, not for making such a sacrifice, but in the situation. Vegeta had turned over a new leaf, was a new person, he didn't deserve, and his family didn't deserve, for him to revert to type. It was grossly unfair, but that was life, Gohan supposed.

Making his way out to the gravity chamber, Gohan considered his relationship with Vegeta. He had turned to the older saiyan during a difficult period in his life, when Vegeta was struggling to come to terms with his new role as a father, and Gohan was growing up fatherless.

Vegeta hadn't been one for a placid heart to heart, so they had discussed things over sparring sessions, Gohan learning about the changes he was going through, Vegeta learning about how to be a father. Gohan was an easy-going, forgiving person, even at his worst moments in that period. He could handle Vegeta unleashing his fury, verbally or physically. But Vegeta had, over time, altered his own behaviour, calmed.

He had changed as a person. He had changed so much before the calamity with Buu had set him back.

Gohan didn't want to see all that effort go to waste, because Vegeta had put in a lot of effort, tried very hard to be a good father.

Not like Gohan's own.

But now was not the time to think of Goku, missing out on his grandchild's first steps.

Now was the time to focus on Vegeta.

Rapping his knuckles on the humming surface of the gravity chamber, Gohan tried to prepare himself for what he might face. Tried to recollect Vegeta's nature from a time long ago, when Gohan had been a child. It felt like fate was laughing at them, or else the powers that be wanted to keep Vegeta within hell's grasp. Every time he made progress, there was a setback. One step forward, two steps back, that kind of thing.

It wasn't fair to any of them to go through this again, especially not Bulma. He wasn't sure how she managed to cope seeing her husband at his worst every day. That must be torture.

"Vegeta!" he called, starting to back a little harder on the metal.

There was a soft click, then the door swung open, revealing Vegeta in all his sweaty glory. Wearing the training suit Bulma had made for him, power still swirling around him and aura commanding, Vegeta would have looked very intimidating, but Gohan wasn't scared.

Vegeta didn't frighten him anymore.

"Hi, Vegeta!"

"What do you want, boy?"

Back to failing to use people's names, Gohan supposed. Still, he hadn't been immediately dismissed, so that was progress.

"I wanted to talk."

"Talk? Boy, I'm in the middle of training. This had better be important."

"Ah…" what was he going to say? "Congratulations on the baby!" He was the father, after all. He had played a part initially, even if he was inactive now.

"Hmph. Is that all?"

"It's the baby shower," surely he knew about the party, but now Gohan wasn't so sure, "Bulma organised a party for the baby."

"I am aware."

So Bulma and Vegeta were still communicating. Of course they were, Gohan felt like slapping himself. This was the man Bulma had gotten together with in the first place, resulting in permanent consequences in the form of one grumpy teenager upstairs. They had to have been able to interact without yelling at each other. Surely. He blushed. Maybe not.

"So, as the father, you should be involved."

"I couldn't care less about a party. As long as there are leftovers, I will be content."

How typical of a saiyan, and it almost made Gohan smile.

"I'm sure there will be plenty. The cake was huge! You should come in and have some."

He had deliberately refrained from bringing Vegeta a piece like he had Goten and Trunks, intent on using the food as a lure for the elusive saiyan. But Vegeta merely shook his head.

"I will not subject myself to the company of more humans. Bad enough that I am taking the time out of my training to speak with you. If it is 'huge' as you say, there will be some left, which I will consume after dinner."

Did he mean he would eat the whole thing? Gohan could imagine that, and it was probably why the cake had been so large. Gohan himself had eaten three pieces, and had cut quite large slabs for the younger hybrids.

"Is there anything else?" Vegeta interrupted his thoughts, surprisingly cordial considering what Gohan had been expecting.

"Er…"

The older saiyan's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he began tapping a booted foot against the gravity chamber's floor.

"No, nothing."

Without saying goodbye, Vegeta returned to his room, shutting the door definitively in Gohan's face. Well, not an absolute success, but Gohan felt it had gone better than expected.

Returning to the living room, Gohan snagged himself another piece of that marvellous cake, chowing down as Bulma began to question him.

"Well? How did it go? What did you say?"

"I…ah…congratulated him. About the baby."

"And did he tell you that he doesn't want anything to do with it?"

"No, no he didn't."

Bulma seemed a little taken aback as she smothered a cracker in French onion dip.

"Really? No comments about not being interested in fatherhood, no off-hand remarks about me filling all obligations towards him by providing the heir and the spare?"

"Gosh, Bulma. No! Nothing of the sort."

"Well," she considered, "That is an improvement. Maybe we'll get somewhere with him after all."

Gohan smiled. Vegeta had come through this before, and turned out all the better for it. He was a man capable of overturning the worst darkness within himself. Gohan was sure he would return.