Notebook

by Lontano

A collection of Vejita-centered one-shots. CH. 1 (Yamcha x Vejita) : Yamcha gives Bulma a ticket to his baseball game. Someone else comes instead. CH. 2 (Bulma x Vejita) : Bulma finds a stash of letters Vejita has written. But not to her. CH. 3/4 (Gohan x Vejita) : "So, then," Gohan finally began. "How do I tell my mother that I...knocked up Vejita?" Piccolo balked.

4. Iconography 2 (Gohan x Vejita)

A/N : It's loooooooong. I regret nothing.

---

ICONOGRAPHY

PART 2

It was a bit of an adventure.

To say the least.

Gohan had always considered himself very well educated, but suddenly he was fumbling around in the dark a bit, because Vejita was so unwilling to talk about intimate issues and Gohan was just as unwilling to actually ask him.

Gohan understood that Vejita was...

Well.

Didn't even know what to call him, really, because Vejita had just never told him.

Therefore, as was often the case his entire life through, when Gohan had a question about science and biology, he went straight to Bulma. After all, apparently she had known about it, for now her comment about Yamcha's excitement rubbing off on Gohan at last made sense.

There was no way to make himself look less foolish, so Gohan just barged up to her when he found her alone very early the first morning after, and said, "Why didn't you tell me that I could actually knock him up?"

Bulma's mouth dropped open, the coffee she was mindlessly slurping spilling down her chin, and she wiped her face with her sleeve as she gaped at Gohan in shock, sleepy eyes suddenly quite alert.

"Wha— You didn't know?"

Obviously.

Bulma's eyes grew wider, and she sputtered, "D-did you? You did, didn't you? Gohan!"

Before she could freak out, he put his hands in the air and cried, "No! I mean...not yet, anyway. ...I don't think." Not that he wasn't thinking about it, in the back of his mind. "He told you, though, huh? You knew. So. Give me a rundown here. Help me out. What am I dealing with? Is he... I mean. Can I... Um..."

Awkward.

Bulma grimaced as she crankily examined her wet sleeve with bloodshot eyes, before grumbling, "Man. You guys are all so hopeless. I don't get it. How did I ever find myself with such clueless men?"

Okay, she could have that one.

Bulma swept her hand over the chair in front of her, and Gohan plopped down, clasped his hands in his lap, and waited for Bulma's lecture. She cleared her throat, dark circles hanging beneath her eyes, and began, stiffly, "You see, Gohan, when two people love each other very much—"

Gohan gave Bulma his very best glare, which he had learned from both Piccolo and Vejita, and she was quick to roll her eyes and grumble something that sounded like, 'You're no fun.'

No. He wasn't.

Bulma griped, under Gohan's daggers, "Well, excuse me. It's not my fault you gave everyone the wrong impression, Mister Wow-Vejita-Smells-Really-Good. We thought that meant that you knew."

A blaze of red to Gohan's face, and Gohan slapped a palm to his forehead and miserably uttered, "Oh, dear god, you told him I said that, didn't you?"

Bulma's soul-sucking leer.

"Of course I did. That same day. Aw, man, me and Yamcha terrorized that man for hours with it."

Fuckedy fuck.

Out of habit, Gohan grunted, bitterly, "'Yamcha and I'."

Bulma's lip curled in disgust.

"You want a biology lesson or not?" she snitted, and Gohan settled down.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now."

Bulma took a long slurp of her coffee, and then launched into a tirade about how 'for your information, you little punk', the Saiyans had developed an intersex gender over millennia because females became too uncommon, and that Vejita just 'happened to be one of those', but that 'you and Goten aren't, thank god, 'cause you got about four braincells between you', and that it was 'very sad for Vejita that you're the only eligible Saiyan bachelor', and that if Gohan had 'actually paid attention and got into some foreplay' before just 'barging forward like an animal', then perhaps he would have noticed 'a fork in the road' which was really 'a little extra hallway if you know what I mean'. And of course naturally if Gohan wasn't 'careful', he could end up putting Vejita into a 'compromised position' regardless of 'whichever hallway' Gohan decided to use because 'your little guys are determined swimmers, ya know!'

Gohan spent most of Bulma's lecture burying his face in his palms and tying not to keel over from shame.

He was blushing so hard his face was throbbing. How in gods' name did Bulma know? No way in hell was Vejita any more capable of uttering that aloud, more than Gohan was capable of hearing it. Knowing Bulma, she had probably just dragged Vejita into her lab one day to 'study' him, as she liked to study things.

Creep.

Because Bulma was Bulma, and she really was a jerk, she leaned in and uttered, in a husky whisper, "Yeah, that's right. I've had my fingers in more of your man's holes than you have."

What. The. Fuck.

Gohan sank down so far in his chair that his knees clunked against Bulma's. Couldn't even breathe he was so embarrassed—

Bulma, happy that she had thoroughly destroyed Gohan, leaned back and cheerfully added, "So, there. Now ya know. Go do some exploring later on. It'll be fun for the both of you. It's funny; you guys are all such macho martial artists, but you all seem to forget how to use your fingers when it's important."

Had to go, had to go, had to go right now.

Gohan staggered out of his chair, eyes firmly on the floor and tail between his legs, so red that his neck and chest were as crimson as his face, and without another word he bolted off.

Bulma called after him, "Have fun tonight! Wrap it up!"

Son of a—

Gohan cried out in pain when he flew right into the branch of a tree, dazed as he was.

Well! Bulma was the only one who would be brave enough to drag Vejita in for health checkups, whether he wanted them or not, and she certainly was nosy, so Gohan was not surprised in the slightest. Pitied Vejita a little, being shoved down on a medical bed and eagerly studied by some crazy woman.

And Bulma had the audacity to call Gohan the animal!

Maybe Gohan was still a little bit of a monkey, deep down, because damn it all if he wasn't curious. Could be a little bit of a 'monkey hear, monkey do,' because of course Gohan was always going to take Bulma's words to heart. Both he and Vejita would die from humiliation before they ever actually opened their mouths to talk about intimate matters, but in the heat of the moment there was no issue physically exploring.

Because, dammit all! No way in hell was Bulma gonna have, er, more of her fingers in 'his man' than he was.

Gohan momentarily buried his face in his palm as he tried not to die, and nearly flew right into his own apartment complex.

When he crept back in, Vejita was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, and he snarked, as much of a jerk as Bulma was, "Couldn't even wait to get back to me, could you? I saw you nearly fly into this window."

Gohan's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Yeah, those creeps had all been meant for each other, Bulma and Vejita and Yamcha. The unholy trinity. Had been destined for each other, alright, three demons that happened to lock into each other's orbits and now had created some portal to the next dimension of torment.

Vejita sneered away at Gohan, and because Gohan always put his foot in his mouth, he just stayed quiet and manned up and snatched Vejita's collar to drag him forcibly into the bedroom.

Jerk was gonna get his.

Gohan took Bulma's advice then and did a little exploring, so to speak, and Vejita seemed taken aback but also pleased by Gohan's gall. Gohan was expected to be more aggressive, or would have been on their planet, so maybe he was earning some more bonus points by shoving Vejita onto the bed and yanking his pants off. Couldn't be a geek all the time. Vejita seemed more taken aback when Gohan tried to stick it to Bulma and her critiques by, well...sticking it to Vejita.

Hmph! Who did she think she was? He could use his fingers just fine!

...maybe?

Videl had never complained, and just like Vejita she had no problem telling someone what was what, so there!

Likewise, Vejita didn't complain at all, although, a long while later, when Gohan 'barged forward like an animal', he intentionally aimed for the, erhm, 'other hallway', and it was then that Vejita gripped his shoulders and momentarily seemed simultaneously terrified and elated. Their eyes locked for just a fleeting second, and it was clear to Gohan that Vejita's look was saying, 'Are you trying?'

Honestly?

He wasn't sure. He really wasn't. Half of him was scared, just like Vejita, and, just like Vejita, the other half was desperate.

Both of their heads were wrecks, perhaps, because neither of them had ever been normal.

And it could easily be said then that Gohan was actually going out of his way to not be careful, that he was doing everything wrong intentionally, that he was giving effort to not give effort.

He didn't actually ask Vejita how he felt, didn't ask him what he thought, didn't ask him if he wanted it, and didn't really plan to, for Vejita was the sort of man to never hold back his thoughts (if they weren't sentimental). If Vejita didn't want it, then he would have punched Gohan in the face by then.

Their world was often very black and white; if Vejita didn't say 'no', then he was really saying 'yes'.

No one wanted to be alone, and even more than that, no one wanted to be the very last. Vejita was on the brink, and Gohan was that quick glimpse of a rope to safety.

Vejita didn't say 'no'.

---

"We have a...situation."

December.

The first words Vejita uttered to him one pretty, snowy morning, when Gohan had taken that very first inhale back into consciousness.

Gohan naturally hadn't comprehended them at first, because he wasn't even really awake and Vejita was very warm there against him. So Gohan just dumbly rolled onto his side, threw an arm over Vejita, hauled him in and squished Vejita's face into his chest so heavily that he was probably suffocating him, and just grunted a rough, "Mm-hm."

A sigh.

Gohan steadily came around, Vejita immobile there in his arms and very silent, and it wasn't until Gohan actually regained some semblance of clarity that Vejita repeated, "Listen. We have a situation we need to discuss."

"And what's that?"

A very long silence, as Gohan continued clenching Vejita and burrowing his face into his hair and unwilling to move at all, let alone think.

It seemed Vejita was reluctant to actually say what the situation was in so many words, for he hesitated so long to speak again that Gohan had started dozing off.

"Bulma is pregnant."

A sleepy snort.

"Yeah. So? How's that our situation? Yamcha make you godfather or something?"

"...well, yes, actually, he did, but that's not the situation. Speaking of, I will ask you to explain to me shortly what a 'godfather' actually is. But first... Well. The situation. It's— Well."

Hm—very unlike concise and blunt Vejita to stammer over his words like that, and Gohan woke up a little more to pull his head back and blearily meet Vejita's eyes.

"The situation...?" Gohan prodded.

Swore that Vejita swallowed, that for a moment he looked terrified, and then Vejita somehow managed to murmur, weakly, "Bulma is not the only one."

A dumbfounded blink from Gohan, as his brain struggled to understand and pick up whatever Vejita was putting down.

Bulma wasn't the only one what? The only one pregnant? Who else—

Oh. Oh. Oh, shit—

Vejita added, in a somehow lower grumble, "I was waiting to see if you'd know, but clearly your nose is broken."

And so was his brain, for a moment there, as he hung in mental limbo.

He suddenly woke up, inhaled very sharply, bolted upright in bed at the waist, nearly clocking Vejita in the face with his elbow as he did so, and felt his head spinning. Holy fuck, oh no, oh crap, oh damn, what a damn way to start a morning, wasn't even sure yet if he was awake or still dreaming, and holy hell, he was gonna be a dad.

Needed Piccolo.

Needed Piccolo now, right now, right right now, and Gohan leapt out of bed so quickly that his foot tangled in the sheet and he slammed face-first into the floor. Vejita sat up in a fright, gawking at Gohan as Gohan panicked, clearly also panicking while trying very hard not to panic.

Two of the strongest guys in the universe, having a momentary meltdown.

Gohan kicked off the sheet, stood up, stalked around the room to look for his shoes, couldn't find them, and went straight to the door.

Vejita called, in a very thin and worried voice, "Where are you going?"

To go scream in the forest.

"I need to talk to— I gotta— I have to find Piccolo!"

"What?"

"I'll be back! Don't freak out!" Gohan cried, as he very much freaked out himself.

Vejita screeched to Gohan's back, as he ran out of the room, "I know you come from a line of idiots but can you please put some goddamn clothes on before you humiliate me in front of the Namek?"

A sound idea.

Gohan skidded back into the bedroom, hopped into his boxers and then into his pants, and the entire while Vejita just gaped at him in nothing less than terror, and then Gohan yanked on his shirt and stumbled out of the bedroom. Maybe it wasn't the best way to start, probably didn't inspire much confidence to Vejita, but Gohan was absolutely freaking out and needed to do so away from Vejita. Didn't want Vejita takin' anything the wrong way, before Gohan even knew how he felt about it.

He wasn't regretful, he was so sure that he wasn't, but still bolted to a distant forest, hovered above it, and screamed a little.

If only to decompress.

As it turned out, he didn't need to hunt down Piccolo, for apparently Piccolo had not only felt Gohan's out of control energy rising and falling in a panic, but he also had heard Gohan's screeching, for when Gohan settled down, there was a call from behind.

"Are you finished?"

Gohan whirled around, and was very relieved to see Piccolo staring at him.

Gohan slumped, fell limp, and Piccolo quirked a brow and snidely asked, "Care to talk about it?"

Why, yes, he would love to talk about it.

At Gohan's persistent silence, Piccolo drifted down to the ground, as Gohan followed, heart thudding and head pounding.

He suddenly realized that he wasn't scared to tell Piccolo. Or Bulma. Or Yamcha. In fact, he wasn't actually scared at all. Wasn't upset. Wasn't mad. Actually, really thinking about it, hell, he was happy, he was, because of course in the back of his mind he had really wanted it and that was why he had thrown caution to the wind and never tried to be careful.

Gohan also very quickly realized the actual reason he was freaking out, why he needed to scream, and why he was about to have a coronary.

It was just...

Piccolo crossed his arms, sighed, and grumbled, "Put your brain back together. I can't actually read your mind. You'll have to tell me in words."

How to actually put it into words, though, at least in a way that wasn't embarrassing. Best to be concise, perhaps.

"Right. So, then," Gohan finally began. "How do I tell my mother that I...knocked up Vejita?"

Piccolo balked.

"Um—come again?"

Gohan braced his legs, squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and said, far more firmly, "I knocked up Vejita. How do I tell my mother?"

Piccolo's left eye twitched, surely as he suffered some sort of mechanical malfunction, and then he grunted something that sounded like, "You don't."

Gohan's turn to ask, "Come again?"

Piccolo seemed startled, looked about, and then cleared his throat. "Erhm. Yes. Well. I think maybe— Can we start over? I need this story from the beginning, because I think I might be dreaming."

Yeah, join the club.

Gohan wasn't scared because he had impregnated the last prince of their dead race, not at all, he was terrified of telling his mother about it.

Vejita mighta been a single mother after Chichi got done with Gohan.

Piccolo and Gohan sat down on a fallen log, put their elbows on their knees, and stared off into nothing as they each tried to screw their heads back on and as Gohan relayed the entire venture of the past year to Piccolo.

Piccolo seemed stunned, more than anything. Which was understandable, Gohan supposed, because it kinda came out of nowhere for him.

A very long, very awkward silence, and then Piccolo tentatively asked, "So, then, you— Well. I presume, if you're asking me for advice, then this means you both intend to...follow through?"

They hadn't talked about that yet, because Gohan had run out screaming, but Gohan was so sure that Vejita had also deep down truly wanted it, for both of them to be so reckless. Gohan was all in, and though Vejita hadn't had time yet to make a verbal declaration, all the same Gohan nodded then on his behalf.

Presumptuous, maybe, but he felt he was correct.

Piccolo squirmed.

"And, so, then... Mm—"

Gohan sighed, and then muttered, "Just say whatever you're thinking. I promise you, it can't be any worse than the questions I'm gonna get from my mother."

Piccolo seemed greatly relieved that he wouldn't accidentally offend Gohan, and quickly blurted, "Vejita is really okay with carrying a child? You didn't persuade him to do this against his better judgment, did you? And what I really want to know; did you mean to? Or was this entirely accidental?"

Straightforward and blunt, just like Piccolo.

Dumb Gohan grunted, "Kinda both."

Piccolo blinked, and stuttered, "Wh—there's—there's no both. Either it was an accident or not. That's not a scenario in which there's a middle ground."

"Well," Gohan grumbled, staring off into the nether as he envisioned the myriad of ways that his mother was about to murder them all, "I sort of wanted it, but I'm not sure he did, and then we talked about it, but we kinda didn't talk about it, because we were both too embarrassed, so I think we just kinda took the 'whatever happens, happens' route, but then I think I actually really wanted it, so maybe I was less about 'whatever happens' and more about 'by god this is gonna happen', and then he didn't say anything so I thought he mighta felt the same way, but then he also looked kinda scared, like sometimes he really wanted it and then at other times it was the last thing he ever wanted, and then—"

"Gohan."

"What?"

"You're babbling."

Couldn't help it. He was so goddamn nervous even thinking about telling his mother that he swore he was about to lean over and puke right there. It was funny that that was literally his only concern; having a kid was nothing, he wasn't scared to be a father, wasn't scared to begin a new life, wasn't scared to be tied to someone in a way that could never be taken back.

Nah—Gohan was just scared of Chichi's wrath.

Gohan grumbled, "Enjoy it. You might not hear my voice ever again after I tell my mother. ...how do I tell my mother?"

Piccolo was as much Gohan's father as Goku, and sadly more consistent. Where the hell was Goku, anyway? Hadn't seen him in months, and of all damn times, he chose now to vanish.

To be fair, Goku would probably still have been the very last person of whom Gohan would have asked advice.

Piccolo stared dumbly into the trees, Gohan swore he swallowed, and then he said, very tentatively, "I think... Mm. Best to be direct. There's no way she's going to take it well, and delaying it will only make it worse. Best to get it over with now, instead of telling her when it's being born. I don't know what other advice I can give you on that end. If you need help with Vejita, however, I may find myself a bit more useful."

True; Piccolo and Vejita seemed to have developed a mutual respect for each other, and in many aspects they were very similar.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, then," Piccolo said, as he clapped a hand on Gohan's shoulder in a rare moment of physical affection. "It was nice knowing you."

Gohan scoffed, shooed Piccolo away, and quickly skittered off, because he wouldn't live long enough to be murdered by his mother if he didn't get back to Vejita yesterday and actually talk to him.

Piccolo called, as he went, "Your shirt is inside out, by the way."

The least of his problems.

When Gohan returned, he found Vejita sitting out on the small balcony, staring very blankly off at the sky. So lost up in his head that he didn't even hear Gohan come up beside him, for he jumped when Gohan put a hand on his shoulder. A quick blink, a visible bristle of Vejita's hair, but he refused to look up. As always, Vejita protected himself from rejection and ridicule by forcing every single muscle in his face utterly still, and gave away nothing.

Snow was falling, grey clouds obscuring the sun.

Shades of blue all around, and as usual it made Gohan restless and anxious. Fit the mood, absolutely, as Vejita hid himself behind that iron wall because Gohan had stupidly ran off in a panic.

Blue.

Vejita didn't move, didn't speak, didn't seem to be breathing, and so Gohan was forced to initiate conversation by saying, assuredly, "I'm ready to talk."

Vejita stayed silent.

Damn. He had blown this big time.

Sure enough, as Gohan tried to think of his out, Vejita at last spoke. His voice was so deep and rumbling that it was barely audible against even the silence brought on by the falling snow.

"There is no need to speak. I believe you've already told me everything I needed to know. I was merely waiting for you to return so that I—"

Gohan didn't bother letting Vejita finish, even though it was rude to interrupt, because he couldn't just let that sit there, not that, couldn't let Vejita take it the wrong way and not immediately correct it, for Vejita's trust was thinner than ice and far more fragile. If he had let Vejita finish that sentence, something would have been lost between them, and it would have been impossible to ever regain, for Vejita only let himself be burned once.

Gohan came forward, settled onto one knee in front of his former enemy, grabbed his hand, and said, with absolutely no hint of doubt despite the blue all around, "I'm happy."

A quick glimpse of shock, even against that perfect mask.

As Vejita processed, Gohan carried on.

"We fought to kill each other once. My father let you live, and in turn you saved my life on Namek. We stand on even ground. Even so, I feel yet that I owe you— No. That's not what I want to say. That's not what I mean. I'm not doing this because I owe you for saving me. I'm not standing up now because it's my duty. I put us here because I wanted it. I wanted this, and so we do need to speak, because I need to know if you're going to follow through. I want this. Do you?"

Yet again, Vejita stared unblinkingly at him, and judged him. Gohan held strong, held firm, and didn't budge or back down. And, yet again, Vejita seemed satisfied with Gohan's sincerity, for his mask finally dissolved, just a bit, and his face relaxed.

Vejita's last-ditch tie to this planet was safe, and Vejita gave a curt but firm nod of his head.

Yes!

It all came together for Gohan then, he was sure of it, the path before him was so clear to see, and in a burst of exhilaration Gohan snatched Vejita up and slung him over his shoulder like a sack to walk him back inside and toss him on the couch to light the fire. Bewildered Vejita so nearly smiled, so nearly.

Almost.

In his mind, Gohan could already see his future perfectly falling into place. Everything most men wanted :

A home, a job, a spouse, a family, love and security. Making something out of nothing. Step by step, Gohan was getting everything he had ever wanted. All that was left, really, was eliciting a real smile out of Vejita. He could do it yet.

In the firelight, Vejita's hair held shades of orange, and in there Gohan found his safety.

---

"I did it. I knocked him up. So. There. It's done. Don't lecture me."

Gohan stood before Bulma, and once more her mouth fell open and coffee spilled down her chin and shirt.

She gaped at him, open-mouthed, and then Yamcha came ambling into the kitchen, hair sticking to high heaven from sleep, yawning, and he greeted Gohan mindlessly as he lurched for the coffee.

Before he could get his fix, Gohan blurted, to cut to the chase, "Hey, I'm joining your Gonna-Be-A-Father club. Vejita's pregnant, too."

The coffee pot slipped from Yamcha's fingers and shattered on the floor. Bulma had yet to move, he swore she hadn't even blinked, and now Yamcha was gaping at him as well. Gohan smirked quite smugly at them, puffed out as much as Yamcha ever could, and swaggered out when they continued their silent staring.

On top of the world.

Several hours later they came banging on his door, and Gohan was still smirking when he opened it and they rushed him. Yamcha put him in a headlock and ruffled his hair, as Bulma streaked straight to Vejita and squeezed him as he bristled out in a social-anxiety-induced panic.

They were excited, for all of Bulma's warnings, and that gave Gohan ever more confidence, and when they were gone, later that night, once again Gohan was so certain that Vejita killed a smile.

Closer and closer.

How odd it must have been for Vejita, to have someone be happy for him. To have even this scarce handful of people love him, for no reason.

Gohan was one of them.

---

January.

Vejita hadn't changed a bit, nor had Gohan exactly expected him to. Was still smug and aloof and catty, but even though Vejita hadn't changed, of course the way Gohan viewed him had. Vejita could have easily handed Gohan his ass with one hand, but still Gohan pulled a Vejita and extended his hand helpfully when Vejita meant to stand. Vejita had slapped it away the first few times, until apparently Vejita realized that, hey, he actually liked being catered to and coddled by Gohan as much as he liked it from Bulma's mother. And so now Gohan had fallen into the trap of 'once you give Vejita attention you always have to give him attention or he'll get bitchy'.

Worse things, and Gohan was very happy to dote upon this man who had known nothing but cruelty and hardship and slaughter his entire life through. Supposed he deserved to be treated just a bit like the prince he was and always would be, for of course Goku would never be a fit 'king'.

Things were going smoothly so far. Vejita stayed mostly at Gohan's flat now, unofficially moved in, though of course he spent vast amounts of time at Bulma's to train. When Gohan had chastised Vejita for still training, Vejita had lifted his chin and snootily griped, 'Hmph! Don't you dare think me some damsel in distress! My mother trained until a few days before I was born, and would have trained until I just popped out had my father not stopped him.'

'What?' Gohan had sputtered, hands on hips. 'How do you know?'

Vejita's turn to sputter.

Vejita insisted it was fine, pulling that 'warrior race' card as he so often did, and Gohan rolled his eyes but let him do as pleased for now. Once Vejita began visibly showing, however, he would insist that Vejita knock it off, even if he had to use Bulma wielding a shoe to make it so.

As for Gohan, he finally had a job, and a very normal one, working as an unexceptional nobody at the library he had haunted for years. Everyone seemed to find it perfectly fitting, and Gohan had thought that Vejita would mock him a little for it, but he didn't. Rather, Vejita almost seemed envious, in some way, that Gohan was emotionally capable of conducting himself accordingly in society.

Vejita would always be an outlier.

Anyway, Vejita seemed as glad as Gohan to have a different source of income, because both of them had been Bulma's leeches for a long while, and though they still were, it was nice not to have to rely entirely on Bulma's good graces to be able to pay his own water bill.

Every morning, Gohan happily went to work.

Every evening, Vejita asked, 'Have you told your mother yet?'

Happiness vanished, replaced with terror.

Gohan would always grunt, 'I'm gettin' around to it.'

Really!

He sure was dragging his feet, though, and often tried to change the subject, usually to something Saiyan-related so that Vejita would get sidetracked. Vejita was too clever for Gohan, though, and was only as sidetracked as he allowed himself to be, fully aware that Gohan was evading.

It was only inevitable, and so Gohan didn't know why he delayed.

Bulma and Yamcha tried to spur him on a bit, and Yamcha teased once, 'If you survived Vejita all these years, I think you can handle Chichi!'

Gohan drolly retorted, 'I'll take that Vejita over my mother any day, thanks.'

Not true, no, but he felt so overwhelmed. Terrified of her, but not of her, if that made sense. More like terrified of disappointing her, of letting her down, of not being what she had dreamed of him being, of not living up to her stringent expectations, of not being the perfect son. He loved her, and for that he was terrified.

Bulma said to Gohan, when she got fed up, 'Enough is enough! Gohan! You go tell your mother right now, or I swear I'll call her!'

Gohan froze up, and Bulma threateningly pulled out her phone.

Cold-sweat.

When her finger hit the first number, Gohan backed down, held his hands in the air, and conceded defeat with a pitiful, 'Okay! Okay! I'll tell her tomorrow! I swear it!'

Bulma put her phone away, and said, 'Tell her by sunset. Or she'll get my call.'

Gohan very much believed Bulma would do it, and so there seemed to be little choice.

Gohan spent the night tossing and turning, picked at his breakfast as Vejita suspiciously eyed him, and then made the nerve-wracking journey to his childhood home.

His heart was hammering so fast that he was dizzy.

Goten ran up to hug him as he landed, and Gohan stumbled and staggered his way into the house, where his mother was washing the dishes from lunch. Goten was the smart one for once, maybe, for he saw Gohan's odd state and stayed outdoors, knowing better perhaps than to be nearby.

Man! The worst possible time, for when Chichi glanced over her shoulder to greet Gohan, she was naturally washing the biggest possible knife.

Saw his life flash before his eyes.

Chichi looked him up and down, eyes lidded, and then she griped, "It's about time you came home to visit. I swear, now that you're out on your own it's like you've forgotten your poor mother."

Gohan nervously laughed, as always, and mumbled something along the lines of, "What? Don't be silly! I could never forget you!"

"Oh? Coulda fooled me."

"It's not that, and you know it. I've got a job now. A place. Ya know. Just been a little busy."

"Mm! A job. A place. And something else, maybe? Hm? Is there something you've come to tell me? Got a little special someone taking up all of your time now?"

Gohan felt the very life drain out of him, he swore it, and Chichi made a noise of agitation.

Oh no.

Chichi very suddenly glared over her shoulder, knife still in hand, and she snipped, very pointedly, "Well? Is that it? Is that why you've come? You gonna spill your soul out to me? (No, because Yamcha had long since killed it.) Is this about you and a certain delinquent getting to know each other? Hm? Is it? I swear, your father is enough of a ruffian without you needing the influence of another. Between him and Yamcha and Vejita, you're going to end up in jail! Or is that what you've come to tell me? Hm? Get yourself into trouble at last?"

How the hell did she know about Vejita?

Gohan's eyes were glued on the knife, and it was possible that he swallowed.

Put down the knife, put down the knife, put down the knife—

Chichi gave a 'hmph', and then, mercifully, finished drying the knife and set it aside to grab a much safer ladle. Gohan sighed internally, and finally managed to squeak, "Yeah! Erhm. No! I mean, I'm not in trouble, mother. Well, ah, not like that. No, I mean, I'm not in trouble at all! What I mean to say, is, um. You know. He's...interesting. Really. Ya know, once ya get to know him, he's actually a really great guy. He just doesn't know how to show it."

"Mm-hm," Chichi droned, soundly hardly impressed. "Sure."

"Really, mother! Oh, come on, you'd really like him if you two would ever actually sit down together. You and him are actually quite a lot alike."

A scoff.

Gohan immediately went into damage control, and blabbered, "Er! Really, that's a compliment! The highest I can give, in fact! To him, I mean! You're amazing, and, I, uh..."

Boy, was that hole getting deep.

Chichi's glare was burning him, and Gohan decided to quit while he was ahead and clamped his mouth shut for a moment to regroup.

Chichi used the silence to lift her chin, turn back to the dishes, and then very primly ask, "So, then, what are you trying to tell me, hm? Do you think you're really getting one over on me, mister? Don't look so nervous! You think I'm that dumb? I know exactly what you've been up to."

Gohan's face began blazing furiously red, as panic intensified and his brain momentarily short-circuited in fear.

Gods above, seriously, was she yankin' his chain or what?

At Gohan's look of utter appall, Chichi snorted, and said, "You'd be surprised what Goten will do for a few extra treats after dinner."

Little rat!

No wonder he had stayed outside! He'd been a dirty little spy this whole goddamn time! Had Goten been there, Gohan woulda glared at him until he dissolved, the brat.

Thank the gods above Gohan always kept the blinds to his flat closed, or sneaky Goten woulda been reporting something very...interesting.

"Oh, yes, I know all about your little 'walks'. Don't underestimate your mother! You've been going out on the town with Vejita, of all people. Must say I'm shocked. But now I know why you've been such a disobedient handful lately! Clearly he's rubbing off on you. He's turning you into a little hellion, I'm sure of it. It's only going to get worse. So, what are these 'walks' anyway, hm? I know I had a lot to say about that last girl, but I think I'd take it all back if you actually sit here and tell me that you're dating that man. I never took you for such a sort!"

There it was. Gohan's greatest fear; disappointing his mother.

Nothing to do but barge forward, like everyone accused him of doing, because there was little other choice.

From the look on Chichi's face and the tone of her voice, it was very clear that she did, in fact, know that these 'walks' were actually dates, for she wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.

Gohan didn't bother insulting her intelligence, and grumbled, "If you're asking, then you already know."

A very long, heavy, beleaguered sigh, as she took up a cast-iron pan to dry.

"I was in denial."

Hm. She hadn't thrown a knife at him yet. Curious.

And really, she didn't actually seem that mad, which was incredible. She hadn't slapped him, hadn't thrown anything, hadn't even raised her voice.

Miraculous.

All things considered, Gohan was shocked that Chichi was taking it this well. Maybe Gohan being on his own and with his own place had taken some of the edge off for her, maybe it had made her realize that Gohan was a man, not a little kid, and that she no longer had sway over his personal life.

It was actually pretty encouraging, so Gohan figured he should go all the way.

Gohan risked it all then, stood up straight, met his mother's eyes, and finally said, "Did you also know that I've knocked him up, or, like, is that news to you?"

The pan slipped from her fingers and clattered very loudly to the floor. A long, awful, dumbfounded stare.

Guess that wasn't the smoothest way he could have worded that.

And then Chichi fainted.

Dammit—!

---

"—my baby! How could this have happened, where did I go wrong, how could it—"

A long, heavy sigh, as Gohan listened to his mother's endless wailing from within the kitchen. As he stared off at nothing, Goten looked up at him and said, very seriously, "You've really done it this time."

No kidding.

He filtered Chichi's blubbering into white noise and waited for her to calm down, as he and Goten stared blankly at the wall above clasped hands.

---

Four hours later, when Chichi stopped sobbing, she very randomly trudged up to Gohan, embraced him around the neck, nuzzled his hair, and said, voice very thick and nasally, "My baby is going to have a baby! I can't believe it. You're growing up so fast!"

Gohan sat deathly still, fearing to move at all lest he once more trigger Chichi's wrath.

A long minute of nuzzling, and then she pulled back to kiss his cheeks and forehead and nose, and he finally squirmed in her grasp and mumbled, "So, you're...not gonna freak out, right?"

She already had, but what he meant was, 'You're not going to murder me and my soon-to-be child's mother in our sleep, are you?'

"I'll freak out later," Chichi said, as she slapped one more kiss on Gohan's forehead. "Not much I can do about it now. Anyway, I guess I can't really chastise you, can I, when I was younger than you." She stood up straight, put her hands on her hips, and added, "I have my work cut out for me! Tryin' to get that piece of work to take care of someone other than himself."

Gohan was slightly offended, but would never dare say so, and instead grunted, "You're taking this...oddly well."

Chichi smiled a little, rubbed her red eyes, and tossed back, "I married a man with a monkey tail, one of your father's friends has three eyes, and your mentor is a big, green, pointy-eared weirdo. Nothing shocks me anymore."

...okay, that was fair.

That, it seemed, was that.

Gohan's greatest terror in life sort of came and went with little more than a whimper, and though clearly it wasn't exactly what Chichi had wanted for him, she didn't truly look that devastated. Maybe, at the end of the day, she was just excited to be a grandmother, in whatever manner it happened to be.

He stayed there with her the entire day, just to sate her, and was smiling when he went back home. Vejita wasn't, and seemed anxious, for he must have known where Gohan had been, as Bulma had surely been texting him.

Vejita stood up from the table when Gohan sauntered in, stared and stared, and at Gohan's silence pressed, "Well?"

Gohan plopped down, threw his hands behind his head in satisfaction, and offered, "It went well, actually! No one's getting murdered."

Vejita scoffed, but seemed relieved. One less thing to worry about, when Vejita more than any of them truly did rely solely on the kindness of strangers.

One more step up that staircase to the perfect life in his head, and Gohan sat up straight to lean forward as Vejita sat back down.

"Should we start thinking of names?" Gohan eagerly asked, feeding off his mother's excitement.

Vejita seemed startled, and choked out, "Already?"

"Why not?"

An odd look on Vejita's face, before he averted his eyes and stiffly stated, "You can do as you please. I will not."

A twinge of disappointment.

"How come?"

"It's not our custom. We do not name any child until after it is born."

"Any particular reason?"

Vejita contemplated, staring into his coffee, before uttering, "It's a superstition, I suppose. It's bad luck, to name it before it's born. It was seen as a sort of insult to the gods. Arrogance, to presume that something would be given without question. Just old customs, like your Earthlings have, outdated and silly, but still upheld. So we don't give them names until they're born well. I suppose it also minimizes attachment, in the case something goes wrong. If it doesn't have a name, then you can't miss it as much."

Not true, but Vejita was right; superstitions were prevalent and powerful and hard to let go of, so Gohan didn't bring it up again, merely stating, "Alright. When it's born then, we'll figure it out."

"If everything goes well," Vejita muttered.

Gohan lowered his eyes, as his excitement dampened slightly.

Did Vejita have to say it like that?

Just because Vejita had lived his life refusing to get attached to anything to avoid being hurt didn't mean that Gohan had to.

---

February.

Chichi and Vejita came face to face at last.

Gohan was absolutely and entirely petrified. He had known it was only a matter of time, and yet when Bulma had thrown a party to celebrate Yamcha's birthday, Gohan had known it was going to happen sooner than he would have liked. For of course Chichi was invited, and Vejita wouldn't dare miss anything on Bulma or Yamcha's behalf.

So everyone gathered, and then Gohan was at last watching with terror as Chichi and Vejita were suddenly standing before each other, looking each other up and down in scrutiny through narrowed eyes, while Gohan bristled out with hands at the ready.

With those two firecrackers, only a little spark was needed for the explosion to follow.

Everyone, in fact, seemed to be holding their breath.

The standoff abruptly ended when Yamcha, ever oblivious and unable to read the room, came over and plopped his hands down on each of their shoulders, blurting out happily, "So! You excited, Chichi? We're gonna have two babies at once! Can't wait! Say, Vejita, you're gonna make me godfather, right? Eh? Ah, of course you are!"

Yamcha powerfully slapped Vejita's back as he was used to doing, and Chichi huffed and immediately smacked Yamcha across the back of the head, chiding, "Knock it off! You bozo, you can't be so rough with him now, you know? Ugh! Get a clue!"

"Sorry," Yamcha immediately squeaked, as Chichi grabbed his ear to twist it, and the situation was instantly diffused.

Gohan was glad for it, and Vejita stared as unblinkingly at Chichi as he did at Gohan in those moments he was knocked senseless.

Everyone seemed stunned when Chichi let go of Yamcha, and then raised her hands to visibly shoo Vejita over to a chair and force him to sit. Vejita looked bewildered and terrified, obeying Chichi's commands with no protest as he always had with Bulma.

Piccolo crept over to Gohan's side, and asked, "How'd you manage that?"

Gohan shrugged in utter confusion.

Dumb luck.

That, or Chichi was actually so used to Gohan letting her down that it didn't even faze her anymore, and that kinda sucked but Gohan was glad for it regardless. Whatever kept his two most beloved people from clawing each other's eyes out in a catfight. For all of Vejita, after all, Chichi probably woulda been the victor.

Everyone dispersed when night came, tipsily stumbling off home, and drunk Gohan tripped over his own feet to sloppily kiss his mother goodbye when she finally called it a night. She did whisper in his ear, at the last second, "I'll be paying you visits! Someone has to make sure he's on his best behavior."

Yikes.

Gohan was too damn drunk to worry about that now, because he and Yamcha were celebrating and nothing could have killed Gohan's good mood.

Piccolo twisted Gohan helpfully around when he began walking off towards the forest rather than the building, and Gohan slung an arm high up over Piccolo's shoulder to amicably slur, "Man, I sure am glad yer here. Imma need all the help I can get."

Piccolo scoffed, and hauled trashed Gohan over towards the complex, where he happily smelled something familiar against the alcohol.

Maybe it was then, blasted as he was, that Gohan was actually able to recognize something ever so slightly different about the way Vejita smelled. Nothing he could have ever put a finger on. A bit deeper, somehow, muskier, warmer and less sharp.

They fell to a halt, as snow fell down and landed atop the glass roof of the gazebo. The lights lit up the night, and orange chased away blue. Drunk Gohan blearily followed Piccolo's gaze, to where Bulma and Vejita were sitting together on a bench, shoulders pressed together and murmuring quietly to each other as drunker Yamcha kept watch from behind.

Somehow or another, Gohan and Yamcha ended up leaning against each other for balance, as they kept protective watch over their charges, Piccolo lurking somewhere nearby.

Their heads butted together, and Yamcha slurred, "Ever think two losers like us would ever get this far?"

"Nah," Gohan slurred back, "Not us. I wonder sometimes if someone went and made a damn wish with the Dragonballs."

Yamcha chortled, sent Bulma the drunkest but also the most adoring smile Gohan had ever seen, before he collapsed to the ground and took Gohan with him.

Last thing Gohan remembered from that night was Vejita leaning over him, shaking his head, and Gohan smiled stupidly up at him. Gohan lifted his hand, and rested it on Vejita's cheek as Vejita sighed and tried to haul flopping Gohan upright to no avail.

Vejita's hair and shoulders covered with snow, as Gohan lied on his back and lovingly stared up at him; a wondrous sight, when so many times they had lied on their backs in ruin.

---

March.

Gohan was fully committed to his role, and now called himself a 'father' to his friends and to his coworkers. To everyone, that was, except for Vejita, because Vejita didn't consider himself a 'mother', and wouldn't, apparently, until after a successful birth.

For all of Vejita's talk, he seemed to be stubbornly clinging to his people's superstitions.

Or maybe there was so much more to it, because of course there was so much more to Vejita, and so much that Gohan didn't know. Gohan asked questions all of the time about the Saiyans, but never had and likely never would ask Vejita about his time as a slave. Didn't wanna open up some Pandora's box, no way, and sometimes things really were better left unsaid.

That man was as damaged as anyone could ever possibly be, and Gohan was afraid that by attempting to address it he would somehow just make things worse.

Chichi and Bulma came by Gohan's flat very frequently, to check in and gaggle as women did, and just like with Gohan, Vejita had shooed them away in annoyance at first only to later realize that being the center of all attention was actually amazing. Vejita always had been and always would be a bit of a drama queen, and accordingly demanded attention and affirmation and worship, which was bizarre to Gohan when Vejita was clearly staying so detached from the entire venture. Wouldn't call himself a 'mother', nah, but sure as hell loved being treated like one.

Gohan rolled his eyes about sixteen times per day, he swore it, when Bulma and Vejita sat together on the couch and whispered to each other about whatever the hell pregnant creatures whispered about. Eh. He was pretty sure Vejita was talkin' shit about him, and Bulma was probably doing the same to Yamcha, for he was very certain that sometimes Vejita gave deep, gruff little titters that could have been Vejita's masculine version of giggling.

Ugh.

When Chichi came, it was less giggly and more tense, for of course Chichi was stricter about these matters. Often Bulma was there, too, and Gohan winced when Chichi would snap at them about standing for too long or lifting something too heavy or not eating enough or moving around too much. With both Bulma and Vejita's laser glares on unfazed Chichi, Gohan squirmed, but so far a fight had yet to break out. Neither Vejita nor Bulma liked being bossed around, and so a clash seemed only inevitable.

It would be Bulma, naturally, that would be the one to snap, for her and Chichi had always butted heads furiously while Vejita was usually easy enough to manhandle as long as you had the correct attitude for it.

Chichi actually grabbed Vejita's collar one night, as Gohan bristled out in terror, and forcibly shoved him into the kitchen chair, chiding, 'Can you sit still for two minutes? You've got someone other than yourself to think about, you know!'

Vejita's red cheeks of fury, and he opened his mouth.

Before Vejita could utter a word, Gohan laughed anxiously and whipped out his phone and said, far too loudly, 'Say! Mother, come take a look at these! I've been lookin' at baby clothes, but you have a better eye.'

Vejita's mouth had clamped shut as he crossed his arms and pouted, but Chichi naturally came over to gush and coo at baby clothes, and the confrontation was further delayed.

Until two weeks later, anyway, when Chichi was bustling about, having again forced Vejita to sit down, and as she looked through the bags of Gohan's old baby clothes and toys she had brought, she said to absolutely no one, "Oh, I can't wait! I'm so excited! I hope it's a girl! We really need one around here. Hm! Either way, I know they'll be perfect, just like my Gohan!"

Vejita shifted in his chair, already agitated and ready to explode.

Gohan tried desperately to catch his mother's gaze, to warn her to knock it off, but she just mindlessly carried on, and added, "At least one side of the family isn't full of ruffians."

Oh no—

It was Vejita that time who bristled out from head to toe, hair puffing threatening and shoulders squaring, then Vejita turned his head, and before Gohan could intervene he snapped, "Oh, one side of the family has the good genes, for sure, but it certainly isn't the one you're thinking!"

Chichi got 'that look' on her face, and Gohan knew it was time to jump in before it escalated, risking wrath on both ends. Doomed either way, for picking one side of course would have gotten him hell from the other.

But he was cranky, too, dammit, sick of tiptoeing around these two, and his voice was harsher than he would have liked when he stomped his foot and shouted, "Enough! Knock it off, both of you! I'm not gonna spend the next six months like this! I'll lose my mind. You two get along. Now. That's not a request. This is supposed to be a happy time, and I'm sick of you two glarin' at each other. Enough."

They gaped at him in shock, for Gohan so rarely lost his temper.

A long, awful silence, as Chichi and Vejita cast one final, fiery glare at each other, and then looked away.

Gohan exhaled through his nose, hoped that they were wrangled, and then Vejita very absently muttered, "Nine months."

Chichi glanced over her shoulder, and uttered, "Eh?"

"Nine months," Vejita repeated, so testily. "I am not an Earthling. Saiyan pregnancies are twelve months."

Gohan groaned, head hanging and soul once again fleeing his body. Oh, goddammit. Even longer to keep these two civil! How unfair!

Chichi was quiet for a while, and then merely seemed disappointed, griping, "That long? Mm—the waiting is killing me already. Well. More time to get ready, I guess."

A rather odd, muted sense of something almost melancholy, as Chichi and Vejita sat back to back, staring at opposite walls as Gohan stared at the floor.

Everyone was stressed, Vejita most of all, and Chichi didn't mean anything by it, really, it was just the way she was, so Gohan didn't hold it against either of them. Just wished they'd make it easier on him.

Chichi left shortly after, quietly, and Vejita didn't come to bed for a good long while, sitting there in that chair and staring at the wall. Gohan should have said something to him, maybe, but didn't know what to say, so as usual he felt it better to stay quiet. When Vejita eventually did come up, he was very quiet and the gap between them was quite pronounced. As if Vejita were avoiding contact, thinking perhaps that Gohan was angry. Or Vejita was angry, that Gohan hadn't taken his side explicitly. Hard to say.

Either way, Gohan rolled over and threw an arm over him and hauled him in, because 'never go to bed angry' was something Gohan had always clung to.

Vejita loosened up, immediately relaxed, because Vejita had no recourse if Gohan and the people of this planet rejected him. Now that Vejita had solid ground beneath his feet, he was apparently clinging desperately to it, for him to last so long without snapping at an overbearing Chichi.

Gohan whispered in Vejita's hair, "She's just worried about you, ya know?"

"She's not worried about me."

"Mm—she is. I know it doesn't come across that way, but anyone who didn't know you might think you'd rather rip my head off than look at me. She's the same way. You two could be siblings, you know. She is worried about you. She worries about everyone in the family, all the time. You're part of it now, so get used to it. She's gonna be like this until it's born, so you may as well just relax a little."

The use of the word 'family' seemed to knock Vejita senseless, for he was very still and very quiet and didn't utter another word all night.

But things were a little less volatile after that, and, at the end of March, something new.

One morning Gohan woke up to Vejita's hand on his chest, a face buried in his neck, a rare moment of being snuggled into, and before Gohan could wake up fully Vejita stated, simply, "It's a girl."

Gohan's brain lurched along, but the smile on his face was already spreading as he made a noise of contentment.

A girl! His mother was gonna be hyped. Lord knew she had always wanted one.

When Gohan was awake and alert, he was beaming, positively beaming, and he swept Vejita up into a careful bear-hug and squeezed him as much as he dared, uttering words of excitement and giddiness that Gohan couldn't even remember later.

Vejita still wasn't smiling when Gohan put him down. Not frowning, either. Just sort of...

Well. Just Vejita, as always, that masked shadow that Gohan could never figure out.

Too elated to let Vejita's aloofness bring him down, Gohan immediately pulled out his phone and called his mother as the coffee brewed, and she shrieked so loudly when Gohan told her the news that he pulled the phone from his ear with a wince, and Vejita looked terrified.

That was the first time, though, that Chichi came over and instead of nagging Vejita actually came up and hugged him. The fawn was in floodlights then, wide-eyed and petrified, pulse pounding in his neck as Chichi embraced him, and Gohan watched very fondly, feeling relief.

Shoulda been easier from here, by all rights.

And yet...

Now that the sex was known, it was easier to prepare, and Gohan went out that same day with his mother to shop. He found a crib he liked, and when he got home, he immediately set about putting it together in the spare bedroom as Vejita lurked in shadows and watched. Gohan was turning this room into a nursery, and Vejita seemed more fascinated than glad.

Not a single word was uttered, as Vejita followed Gohan here and there, seemingly taking everything in. Gohan didn't press, never did, and let Vejita come around in his own time. Vejita was the bravest man Gohan knew in battle, but as soon as that battle ended, as soon as normal life came back, then suddenly Vejita was the most timid and easily frightened. Would never run away from a fight, but would run screaming from someone trying to get him to show feelings.

Being doted upon? Fine. Actually holding an intimate conversation? Nah.

When Gohan turned his head a while later, Vejita was standing there in the doorframe, watching him.

Vejita's face was very blank, devoid of emotion, and his eyes averted when Gohan tried to meet them. An expression Gohan well recognized, and one he had hoped he was steadily breaking Vejita out of. Didn't get it—Vejita was giving Gohan everything he wanted, and Gohan had been trying damn hard in turn to offer Vejita everything and anything he could have ever wanted. So why, then, was Vejita's wall seemingly higher than ever?

Gohan had thought that Vejita carrying his child would have made Vejita closer to Gohan, more trusting, more loving, more open. It didn't; it seemed to be steadily pushing Vejita farther and farther away, not only behind some wall, but also now up in some tower, and behind some veil.

Worlds apart, even as they stood toe to toe.

After a long while, Vejita whispered, "You're really invested in this, aren't you?"

Had it not been obvious from the first day?

"Of course I am," Gohan immediately replied, missing no beat. "I can't wait for her to be here."

Silence.

Gohan couldn't figure out why Vejita, rather than being elated or content or placid, was so entirely blank. A piece of paper with nothing written upon it.

As if, under it all, Vejita were attempting to remain aloof and distant intentionally. Giving real effort this time, not just his usual Vejita-way-of-interacting. As if he were worried about something. Dreading something.

Gohan wished he knew about what.

---

April, going strong.

Too strong, maybe.

Vejita was going to end up being Gohan's end, he was sure of it. Those hormones were kicking in at last and going completely haywire. Vejita was already unpredictable, and now Gohan woke up in the morning not knowing if Vejita was going to kiss his nose or break it. On top of the mood swings, Vejita had steadily stopped training as much, without Gohan forcing him, because Vejita was suddenly so goddamn ravenous that Gohan swore he had something in his mouth every minute of the day.

Gohan's entire paycheck lately seemed to be going straight to food, for god help him if they ever ran out. Still wasn't really showing, yet, Vejita, but with the way he was putting back bread and cake like a goddamn black hole, it was only a matter of time.

To make matters worse, Goku finally came back home, from wherever the hell he had been, and came by to see Gohan at his new place, excited apparently that his eldest child was out and about on his own. Being the responsible adult that Goku had never been.

When he knocked, Gohan was flabbergasted to see him there on the other side of the door, and Goku seemed equally flabbergasted to see Vejita sitting at the kitchen table.

Goku waved over Gohan's shoulder, and when he came inside, the first thing Goku said was, "Say! Vejita, I don't know what it is, but you smell different. What's up? Ha. Whatcha doin' over here? I didn't expect to see you here of all people. Well! You two always did get along pretty well. How ya been?"

Irrational and hormonal Vejita bolted up from the table, coffee spoon in hand as if it were a sword, and he screeched to Goku, "What's all that supposed to mean? What? Am I not good enough for you? Huh? Is that it, Kakarotto? Do I not live up to your expectations? Huh? You bastard! You've been gone for over a year and that's the first thing you have to say to me? You—!"

Too furious to form words, Vejita just abruptly chucked the spoon right at Goku's head. It bounced off with a good 'thwack', and Goku winced as he rubbed at his offended forehead.

Gohan was very quick to grab his father's arm and forcibly drag him outside, before he accidentally said something that would have Vejita throwing knives instead.

Goku rubbed at his forehead as Gohan gave him a good shake, muttering, "Jeez! Feisty as ever, I see."

He had no idea, and Gohan leaned in to hiss, "Listen here, dad! You've missed a lot, alright? Vejita lives here now, so you better watch your step." Goku's expression of dumbfounded shock. "I see you haven't talked to mother yet. You obviously don't know."

"Don't know what?"

Gohan gave Goku another shake (because he couldn't shake Vejita and so it was nice to take some frustration out), trying to scramble his brain into working right for once, and clarified, "We're together, alright? Ain't no other way to say it. We have been for a while. And, well, I kinda— Well. You're going to be a grandfather. So, for gods' sake, please don't set him off! One wrong move and I swear he's gonna snap my neck."

Gohan waited for Goku to inevitably ask a million dumb questions as he attempted to comprehend, and yet, oddly enough, Goku seemed to instantly comprehend what Gohan was saying, and didn't need clarification.

"Ah. I see. So. You and him— Ah ha! I get it. That's what it is. I didn't know what to make of it." His father was suddenly leering at him, and elbowed Gohan in the side, as it was Gohan's turn to be dumbfounded. "You dog! It would be someone like you to get Vejita to settle down. I always knew he was all talk."

Gohan looked his father up and down, and sputtered, weakly, "What—you're not surprised?"

Chichi had taken it too well, and now Goku, too? The hell was going on?

Something in the water.

Goku put his hands on his hips and retorted, "Why should I be? It was only a matter of time. He'd settled down here. Gotta say, though, I wasn't really expecting this."

"Wh— Whoa! Wait. You knew?"

"Knew what?"

Gohan barely suppressed a snarl of frustration.

"You knew he could have kids? How the hell did you know?"

Goku looked completely befuddled, and merely replied, "I don't know. I just knew. You didn't? How come? He doesn't smell anything at all like us. It wasn't something I figured out. I just knew, somehow."

Dammit.

Gohan rolled his eyes wearily, and Goku instantly started smiling, saying, "But, man! I'm gonna be a grandpa! How cool! Have you named it yet? Is it a boy or a girl? How far along is he? Oh, never mind, I'll go ask him!"

Gohan panicked and reached out, but it was too late; his father was already marching back inside and up to Vejita.

Oh, shit!

Gohan was gonna have something broken tonight, he just knew it.

Vejita was still fuming when they walked back in, but somehow undaunted Goku pushed right through Vejita's claws and fangs and managed to embrace Vejita and lift him clean off the ground. Would take Goku to manage that, Gohan supposed, and Vejita was shoving furiously and uselessly at Goku's face as Goku squeezed him and squealed, "I'm gonna be a grandpa! I can't believe it! How awesome!"

"You're not going to be anything but space dust if you don't put me down right now!" Vejita shrieked.

Goku, as usual, was unfazed, and didn't let go.

Gohan sighed.

That day passed in a surreal blur, as oblivious Goku interrogated cranky Vejita, and Gohan stared dumbly into his cup of coffee and counted the plethora of ways that Vejita was going to make him suffer the second Goku left.

Gohan was brought back to reality when something hit his head, and he glanced up with a wince to see Vejita glaring daggers at him.

"Since you don't have anything better to do than be bored to death in my presence, then why don't you go out and buy some food for your starving child?"

Knew better than to argue, however much food was left in the house, and immediately darted out.

When Gohan came back hours later, Goku was gone and Vejita seemed in a slightly better mood. Whew. Gohan tried to prevent an injury by sweeping into the kitchen and sneaking a kiss onto Vejita's cheek when he was rummaging through the grocery bags. Seemed to go over well, for Vejita was placid and content with a mountain of food to rifle through and put his hands on.

...for like five minutes, anyway.

For then, very suddenly and out of nowhere, Vejita slapped his palms down onto the counter and shrieked, in a voice that cracked for how high and furious it was, "God-fuckin'-dammit! Gohan! You bastard!"

Gohan's eyes snapped open wide in terror, as he turned his head to gawk at Vejita, who had whirled around dramatically to glare at him.

"You—! You—! How dare you!"

Clammy and terrorized and feeling the noose around his neck, Gohan swallowed and asked, very, very, very carefully, "Wha— What's wrong?"

As much as with Chichi, Gohan's eyes darted around to see if there were any sharp objects within reach, and also searching for the quickest escape route.

Vejita was glaring at him so potently that Gohan squirmed, and then he snapped, "What's wrong? I'm starving to death, that's what's wrong—" Gohan's eyes flitted in confused horror to the literal mountain of groceries he had hauled in just now "—and you didn't get the goddamn cake that I wanted and I need more coffee and there's no damn sugar cubes left, you creep, and where the fuck is that cake I asked for? And why is there no coffee in this house?"

"When did you ask for cake? I swore there was a cupboard full of coffee!"

"Yeah, there was, yesterday! Where's it at now, huh? Go!"

"But I just—"

"GOHAN! Coffee! Now!"

Oh, shit!

Gohan bolted upright, knocking his chair backwards, and sprinted as fast as he could to the door, ducking and avoiding Vejita's hand lashing out as he went.

As he flew desperately to the grocery store, Gohan reached up and tugged at his collar, feeling quite unable to breathe as the hangman loomed there over him.

A hormonal Vejita was somehow scarier than his mother.

He stopped at Bulma's to beg for money like a loser, so that he could get Vejita an appropriate caffeine fix, and she smirked at him, no doubt knowing very well what he was dealing with. Yamcha poked his head out from over her shoulder, shared a look with Gohan, and grunted, "You too, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"I think I do," Yamcha drolled, and maybe he meant it, because Bulma huffily rammed her shoulder up into his jaw, slamming his teeth together and causing Yamcha to yelp a bit.

...right. And he was outta there.

When Gohan finally came back hours later, arms full this time of bags mostly of cake and coffee, Vejita was sitting at the kitchen table, face buried in his folded arms. When Gohan walked in, Vejita's head snapped up, his eyes were bleary, and he immediately barked, "You jerk! Where have you been? You've been gone for hours! How dare you leave me alone and hungry!"

Gohan heaved a beleaguered sigh, and dodged the spoon Vejita threw at his head.

There were times when Gohan wondered if he would live long enough to actually become a father.

---

"—and he said, 'Gohan, you bastard, you didn't get me enough bread!' And I said, 'Whaddya mean, babe, there's sixteen loaves of bread in the cupboard!' And he said, 'Did I fuckin' ask you to count them?' And I said, 'Well then how much bread do you want?' And he said, 'Don't look at me like I'm fuckin' crazy, you bastard!' But he is crazy! He is! He's gone absolutely psychotic, I'm telling you, he's finally snapped!"

May. Spring came to life, and Piccolo's wide eyes followed Gohan as he stalked back and forth in circles, arms swinging wildly in the air as he ranted, lowering his voice gruffly to imitate Vejita and straining his vocal chords in the process.

"And then he said, 'Gohan, you son of a bitch, I cut off your goddamn tail, and if you don't go out right now and get me a goddamn mountain of bread, I'm gonna cut something else off, you bastard, I'll do something so painful to you that even Kakarotto will be able to feel it!' And so I went and got him an actual car-load of bread, Piccolo, a car-load, and do you know what he said?"

Wide-eyed Piccolo quickly shook his head.

"He said, 'Gohan, you miserable jackass, that's not what I wanted!' How the hell am I supposed to know? Am I psychic? Am I? Huh? Am I Piccolo?" Another shake of Piccolo's head, eyes ever wider. "Exactly! I'm not a darn psychic! So I went back to the car and was gonna take all the bread back, and he threw a mug at the back of my head and asked me what the hell I thought I was doing, and when I said, 'I'm taking back all this damn bread you don't want,' he said, 'if you touch that goddamn bread I'm gonna break your legs', and dammit all, Piccolo, you know what? I kinda wish he would have! I wish he would break my damn legs, because then at least I could stay in bed for a few months and not have to worry about whether or not I'm buying the right kind of bread!"

Piccolo sighed.

---

June.

Somehow against all odds Gohan continued to count himself amongst the living.

Yamcha as well, for Bulma gave birth that month, and Yamcha crossed the finish line without having received any lasting damage or new scars.

Gohan was less lucky, as Vejita's moods continued to go haywire.

Things were changing, slowly but surely, and it wasn't something that had happened overnight, but rather a very gradual change. The creeping of the tide, and Gohan knew the water was rising but it somehow still snuck up on him.

Vejita was becoming increasingly hostile. Erratic. Aggressive and volatile. Ever had Vejita been unhinged, but he had calmed down so much after he had returned to Earth that it startled Gohan to see him steadily once again becoming rather manic. It wasn't like before. It wasn't just mood swings that came and went, but rather seemed to be an actual change of sentiment. Something that lingered constantly underneath the surface, whatever sentiment Vejita was expressing at the top.

And that sentiment seemed to be Vejita steadily viewing Gohan as an enemy once again.

He knew that Vejita couldn't help it, really, but it still caught him so off guard when he would walk into the flat after a day of work and Vejita would bristle up, every hair on his body standing on end, positively electric as he crinkled his nose and nearly bared his canines. Gohan was facing off against a very cranky panther every time he entered his own home, and tread very carefully. Vejita's bristles always quickly lowered, sure, but that didn't erase them being there in the first place.

As if Vejita had to forcibly remind himself sometimes that Gohan wasn't there to hurt him.

Whatever Vejita felt for Gohan, nothing about his sentiments for Bulma and Yamcha had changed, which was kinda unfair, but it gave Gohan a way to calm Vejita down. All he had to do was take him over to see Bulma's baby, and just like that Vejita's stance entirely relaxed and his face ever so slightly softened.

They'd had a boy, Yamcha and Bulma, and Vejita tilted his head and studied the baby, black-haired and blue-eyed, and from the way Vejita sometimes nodded his head in approval to himself, Gohan was pretty certain that Vejita was already betrothing their child to Yamcha and Bulma's. Jeez. And Vejita had thought Gohan daft for wanting to name the baby immediately, but here he was staring at Yamcha's kid as if already asking him, 'And what is it that you can provide for my daughter, sir?'

Gohan snorted to himself, and tried to keep his spirits up.

It wouldn't last forever, this mood. Just had to keep going, and soon everything would be alright.

Everyone gathered again for a party a month after the baby's birth, to celebrate, and Goku and Chichi were fawning over him, as Gohan tried to stay near Vejita without getting his eyes scratched out.

It was a weird mood that day.

Vejita was calm, quiet, watching over Bulma's child as protectively as Yamcha was, and Gohan and Bulma were sitting on either side of Vejita to make sure he had company and attention. But Vejita's eyes were distant, blank, lost up in space somewhere, and when Goku and Yamcha went off together to start drinking, Chichi grabbed the baby and wandered over. She looked Vejita up and down, as he was now beginning to show, and Gohan sent her a look of warning before she could even open her mouth.

She heeded it, met Vejita's distant eyes for a moment, and then wandered off, and it was so strange because there hadn't been a confrontation at all, and there hadn't been for a long while in fact, and yet Vejita's brow crinkled all the same.

Who knew what went on in Vejita's head?

Vejita's chin sank lower and lower, Gohan and Bulma shared a look, and then suddenly Vejita's lips were pursing and his brows were twitching and his eyes were squinting.

And then, very abruptly, Vejita dissolved into tears.

Holy shit. Gohan was a dead man walking.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as Gohan wondered what the hell he had done wrong this time, and his voice was scarcely a squeak when he asked, "Why are you crying?"

"Fuck you!" Vejita shrieked, sobbing away. "I'm not crying!"

Bulma and Gohan shared a very droll look.

Gohan leaned in, very carefully, and said, "Babe—I'm lookin' right at ya. You're definitely crying."

"Fuck you!" Vejita wailed.

It took an hour to calm Vejita down, made so much harder when there actually wasn't a reason at all for his crying. Had just come up out of nowhere, and Gohan wanted to say that it was unheard of, but of course it wasn't. Of all of them, his entire life through, the only man amongst them that Gohan had ever seen cry was Vejita, so seeing him snap now under such pressure and bawl was hardly shocking.

Hurt to see, all the same.

When finally Vejita stopped bawling, the door burst open. Goku and Yamcha stood there, tipsy and smiling away, and Goku blearily stared at Vejita for a minute before slurring, "Hey, Vejita! Man! You're gettin' kinda fat."

Bulma and Gohan's mouths dropped open in horror, even drunk Yamcha winced, and with a short quiver of his lip Vejita burst right back into tears.

God. Dammit.

It was Gohan that time who threw a spoon at Goku's head.

---

July.

"—and I told him that I wanted the walls to be painted red—"

"No," Gohan snarled, as he stomped a foot and defiantly held his ground, "You said that you wanted blue walls! Because 'blue is the royal color', those were your words! It's not my fault you change your mind every five minutes!"

Piccolo mediated, arms crossed and lips very pursed, as he stood watch over Gohan and Vejita hissing at each other like angry cats. They were out in the forest, and Gohan had sort of dragged Vejita there against his will because Gohan was tired of Vejita being at his throat, and so he was taking up Piccolo on that offer to 'be of assistance with Vejita'.

Needed all the help he could get.

Vejita was so livid that every single hair on his body was upright, and his already messy hair had bristled and spiked to absolute high heaven in warning. Because Piccolo was there, Gohan didn't heed it. Last time Vejita had puffed out like that the miserable bastard had been about to blast them all to hell with his goddamn Galick Gun, and Gohan was very certain that Vejita was crackling.

Piccolo, as always, was unfazed by Vejita's tantrums.

Vejita opened his mouth, no doubt to start bitching, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket. A moment of quick blinking, something very close to a snarl, and Gohan was very certain that Vejita had actually bared his sharp canines at him before reaching into his pocket. Vejita very angrily looked at his phone, and very, very angrily began texting something. With one finger, and with each smack of it down into the phone, Gohan was pretty sure that Vejita was pretending he was squishing Gohan there.

Meh, whatever, the jerk was still gonna crawl under the blanket in the middle of the night and cuddle into Gohan's side for warmth and pretend nothing had happened.

Vejita stared at his phone so potently that Gohan was surprised it didn't shatter, and then it buzzed again. Vejita read the message, and then lifted his eyes to Gohan and snipped, almost victoriously, "There! Bulma agrees that you're insufferable!"

Gohan rolled his eyes. Of course the 'women' would gang up on him.

Risking it all, Gohan crossed his arms and huffily griped, "Yeah, 'cause she's all there, just like you."

Wrong thing to say!

Vejita somehow bristled up even more, squared out and splayed and expanded, looked like a damn porcupine suddenly more than a cat, and he cried, in a powerful voice, "Don't you dare talk about her that way!"

Gohan wanted to say, 'But you started all of this,' but was denied the chance.

The argument ended when Vejita stomped his foot right on top of Gohan's, and when Gohan cried out in pain, Vejita burst into tears.

Goddammit!

Piccolo covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile, and left Gohan to the winds to sweep over and walk sniveling Vejita to a log and sit him down.

What the—! Hey! Piccolo was supposed to be here for Gohan, that backstabbing, salacious, pointy-eared, smarmy, son of a Namekian!

Vejita was very visibly showing now, and maybe Piccolo felt obligated to back him up, because, well, people just tended to care for someone that was pregnant more than anyone else. Which meant Gohan was frequently getting the boot now, from even his own mother sometimes, in favor of Vejita, despite all of the evidence pointing to the fact that Vejita was the psycho.

It sucked.

Chichi chided Gohan and muttered, 'Gohan, I know you have to work, but I just got a call from Vejita that there's not enough food in the house. I know you're busy, mister, but you have to take care of him, too, you know!'

Bulma lectured, 'Gohan, I know he's a pain in the ass, but you can't keep making him upset! He's gonna have a meltdown soon. You need to do a little better.'

Yamcha tutted, 'Gohan, I know he's hard to understand, but I think you're really takin' this too much to heart. He says things he doesn't mean all the time; why are ya takin' it so personally?'

Goku said, lowly, 'Gohan, I know he's a handful, but, I dunno, maybe... Mm! Maybe you should get off his back a little? He's got enough to worry about.'

Piccolo uttered, 'Gohan, I know this is difficult for you, but you really just need to let him vent a little.'

They knew, did they? What the hell did they know? They had no idea what Gohan was dealing with, because Vejita hadn't started viewing them as apparent enemies. Vejita would never dare give any of them even half of the hell he had given Gohan.

Vejita would never look at any of them walking into a room as if Frieza himself had just opened the door.

Gohan was the father of Vejita's child, and therefore seemed to have become his arch-nemesis.

Wasn't supposed to be like that.

---

August.

Vejita barricaded himself in the nursery for hours at a time, apparently either huddled under a pile of blankets or lurking under the halfway completed shelf. Gohan wouldn't know, really, for Vejita never let him inside.

Getting further along, now, and Vejita divided his time between trying to murder Gohan with his eyes and staring off into the void to apparently fondly daydream.

Which was cute, yes, but not worth risking his life over to get a good look at, and so Gohan kept his distance. Hell, he hadn't even been laid in two damn months, and couldn't even get close enough now to ever get a kiss in, nor a quick brush of his hand down Vejita's.

Not while Gohan was awake, anyway; the only time Gohan received any physical contact at all from Vejita now was when Vejita thought Gohan was sleeping. As if that was the only time he felt safe enough to lower that wall.

Those awful moments of irrational anger and fear and sadness were all worth it, waking up in the middle of the night to arms around his neck and a face in his hair as Vejita clung to him and tried to burrow away.

For that, Gohan weathered the storm.

But man, oh man, this was sure as hell the one and only kid Gohan was ever having, he swore it. No way in hell could he put up with this murderously erratic Vejita. One time meeting this manic version of him had been plenty, thanks.

Gohan was pretty sure that this was not a normal Saiyan's behavior while pregnant; it was just Vejita's. The man had been a wreck his entire life through, had always been barely clinging to sanity, and so Gohan tried to keep that in mind and heed Yamcha's words not take anything to heart. Vejita on a normal day was a breath away from imploding, let alone having him pumped full of hormones.

Everything in Vejita's life had been taken away from him, everything he had cared about had been stolen, and so Gohan wondered if maybe Vejita was acting this way to prepare himself subconsciously for another disaster. If something were to suddenly happen to Gohan or the child, Vejita could pretend he didn't care, for of course he had never cared about them to begin with.

Vejita, after all, didn't 'care' about people.

That was the façade, anyway, and even though Gohan knew it was false, it still hurt like hell when Gohan would gush mindlessly about this family he was creating, only for Vejita to scoff and utter, 'You act as if you've accomplished something. Make no mistake; if you weren't the only competent Saiyan left, never would I have allowed myself to be taken for such a fool.'

Vejita hadn't spoken like that just a few months ago, not when he had been tucked under Gohan's arm and burrowing into his side. Gohan bit his tongue, and reminded himself that Vejita lashed out when he was scared, and it was so obvious to Gohan that behind all that tough talk, Vejita was terrified.

Wish he knew why.

Couldn't figure out why Vejita so often sat next to the window and stared off at the horizon, and why he jumped when Gohan walked in. Why he whipped his head over and looked startled, sometimes looking as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Guilty. As if Vejita had been next to the window because some part of him had been thinking of crawling through it in the middle of the night and never coming back.

Gohan didn't sleep well anymore, because Vejita sat by the window for hours and sometimes didn't come to bed at all.

Days dragged.

---

September.

Gohan's coworkers all knew by now that he was expecting a child, and always asked for updates. They also asked to meet the mother, which was a little awkward as Gohan evaded questions as best he could.

'Gohan, when are you gonna introduce us to your wife?'

'Erhm—well. You see. Ah. Um. Ya know, you really don't wanna meet my...wife.'

'How come?'

'Mm. Well. It's just... You know...'

'Ohh. I get it. She's a bitch, huh?'

Seeing an out, Gohan sighed and immediately chirped, 'Oh, yeah. Mega-bitch. Totally. Trust me. You don't even want any of that.'

Not a lie; Vejita was a mega-bitch. And, for all intents and purposes, Vejita was also kinda Gohan's 'wife', so. There.

'You have a point. Funny; it's always the super-sweet guys like you that go for psycho bitches. Well! Best of luck, anyway. Can we at least meet the baby when it's born?'

'Can do.'

If Vejita would let him, anyway. Nowadays it felt like as soon as the baby was born, Vejita would borrow away somewhere upstairs and not come out for a year or so, and he might have broken Gohan's legs for real if Gohan actually attempted to hold his own child.

Every day, Vejita was ever more and more aggressive.

That nursery door was always locked, and if Gohan persistently tugged at the doorknob for too long, he swore he heard a very deep growl from within. No choice but to back off, and when Vejita was in sight, it was just to stare out of that window.

Gohan risked Vejita's irrational wrath, because clearly he was being worn down. Looked so tired all the time, seemed to be in constant pain, hissing when he stood and holding his back and wincing when he bent over. Gohan stayed very close, just in case, no matter how hard Vejita glared at him.

Vejita locked himself away up in the blue room, and Gohan stared off into nothing.

It might have been that blue was Vejita's security and orange was his strife, for when Vejita looked through things Chichi was steadily bringing over, Gohan noticed that Vejita was picking out and tossing aside anything that was predominantly orange.

Once, he threw out an orange dress Chichi had brought, and Gohan heard him grumble to himself, 'Ugh, I hate this color.'

It had almost gotten to the point that their respective anxiety-inducing colors hadn't mattered, for they had started finding security in each other, but now Vejita withdrew and his claws were never sheathed.

To take the edge off, Gohan pictured what she would look like, tried to imagine what Vejita would name her, and tried more than that to envision what Vejita would look like when at last he was holding her and everything was alright and there was no longer any need for this wall of defensiveness.

How unfair it was, though, to see Vejita sitting there happy as a clam, being surrounded by and doted upon by Bulma and her mother and Chichi. Looked positively cheery, Vejita, innocent as could be, calm and smiling and soft-spoken and very, very composed.

Ugh. Lies from the pits of hell.

Bulma's mother poured Vejita a cup of tea, and then happily waved her hands in the air before resting them atop Vejita's stomach, and the girls all gaggled and giggled as Gohan skulked off to the side, pouting and forlorn.

He hadn't even been able to feel his own daughter kickin' around in there, for he was afraid of having his fingers broken if he tried it.

Vejita loved being the center of attention, always had, but for some reason Gohan's constant and loving attention seemed to continue setting Vejita off into fits of rage. Was that some instinctive reaction, maybe? Maybe long, long ago, Saiyans had killed offspring that they didn't deem worthy or strong enough, and perhaps millennia of instilled instincts told Vejita to be aggressive to Gohan and keep him at arms' length. Or maybe Gohan was giving Vejita far too much credit, for Vejita didn't act this way around Goku, and perhaps Vejita just hated Gohan a little for making him uncomfortable and vulnerable.

Wasn't just his fault, but Gohan was the only one that seemed to catch Vejita's ire, so he hung back and just crankily watched as Bulma's mother squealed and cooed.

Gohan learned one of life's lessons the hard way :

Getting someone pregnant did not automatically make everything perfectly fall into place.

How he wished it were that simple.

The walls were blue, and so was everything else, for no matter how many lights Gohan flipped on or candles he lit, orange could never overtake that turbulent ocean.

---

October.

"—and how did that make you feel?"

Vejita wailed, "Like he didn't take me seriously! I wanna kill him—"

Gohan, chin resting in his palm, stared grumpily off into the trees as Piccolo counseled caterwauling Vejita.

Jeez, how was Gohan supposed to take Vejita seriously when every single little thing either sent him into a fit of unbridled rage or into fits of hysterical bawling? Vejita's two modes these days were, 'Do I want to murder it or do I want to cry on it?' There was absolutely no in between.

"You don't want to kill him," Piccolo very calmly murmured, ever serene as Vejita went haywire.

"I do!" Vejita cried. "I do! Don't you tell me what I do and do not wish to do, Namek! How dare you! Who do you think you are? You don't know me! Who asked you what you thought?"

"You did," Piccolo drolly replied.

Vejita crankily wiped his eyes, seemed torn between wrath and wailing, and eventually Vejita just picked up a pebble from the ground (after flailing for a good while over his extended abdomen) and chucked it right at Gohan's head. Piccolo snatched it out of the air, which made Vejita dissolve into more tears.

Without missing a beat, Piccolo asked, "Why do you want to kill him?"

"I don't know!" Vejita screeched, and Gohan zoned out with a sigh.

Ugh, could Vejita pop that damn thing out already and be done with it?

Piccolo let Vejita breathe for a moment, and when Vejita had hyperventilated a little and calmed just a bit, Piccolo went and ruined it by asking, "Are you so angry at Gohan because Bulma and Yamcha have been too busy with their child to pay you attention?"

Vejita's brow crinkled, his lips pursed, his face crumpled, and Gohan cursed under his breath when Vejita fell into another fit of bawling.

Swore Piccolo was sneering.

Piccolo was having a blast, oh, no doubt, but Gohan was the one getting wrecked for it. Yeesh. What a great therapist.

As Vejita coughed and sobbed, Gohan whipped out his phone and angrily texted Yamcha, 'Leave your kid for two minutes tomorrow and come over to pay attention to Vejita. Or else.'

Yamcha quickly texted back, 'Or else what?'

Gohan took a photo of bawling Vejita, who was again threatening Piccolo through his tears, and sent it.

Even more quickly, Yamcha texted back, 'See you tomorrow.'

Damn right.

For all the good it did; when Yamcha showed up the following day to coddle his erstwhile dog, he was promptly bitten, for Vejita slammed the door right in his face as he tried to walk in and broke his nose.

Gohan stared in exasperation at Vejita, and grumbled, "What the hell was that for?"

"I don't know," Vejita griped.

He wrenched the door back open just as randomly as he had shut it, as Yamcha held his nose, blood pouring down, and Vejita grabbed Yamcha's arm and dragged him inside. Yamcha looked terrified, poor guy, and more so when Vejita's mood shifted with absolutely no warning and suddenly Yamcha was being shoved down on the couch and Vejita was throwing handfuls of paper towels at him.

And then Vejita plopped down next to Yamcha as if nothing had happened, and Gohan was extremely quick to say, "Well. I'll let you guys catch up."

Yamcha's glare.

Sorry, dude, Gohan needed a break.

...just not, like, a literal break. As in his nose.

He left Yamcha to the winds, went for a walk in the park, went to train a little out in the wilds, went to visit his mother, went for a stroll around the city as the sun began to set, and it did him a world of good. Felt considerably better when he returned at nightfall, stars everywhere as the air grew chilly.

When Gohan came back inside, Yamcha was not only still alive, but was being used as a breathing pillow.

Gohan smirked away and leaned in the doorframe, watching fondly as Vejita slept there against Yamcha's side, half-hidden under a blanket and face burrowed under Yamcha's arm. Yamcha turned his head to Gohan, and mouthed, 'Help'.

Nope!

Yamcha was Vejita's best friend (really!), and so Gohan knew that Yamcha probably meant more like, 'Help, my leg is asleep and if I move a millimeter he's going to break my nose again'.

It was cute as hell, so Gohan stood there and watched for a long while before finally walking in. He stomped his feet heavily, and as expected Vejita woke up. Yamcha clearly held his breath, waiting to see what the mood would be.

Vejita blearily glared at Gohan instinctively, and then lifted his eyes to Yamcha, studied him, and grumbled, "You look better like that. I did you a favor."

Vejita sat up, Yamcha freed his arm, and ran his hand over his broken nose to retort, "What a lie. You can't improve perfection."

Yamcha quickly leapt up, darted for the door, and made a swift escape.

"Goodnight," he grunted on the way out, very pointedly meeting Gohan's eyes.

Whatever Yamcha was trying to convey fell flat, and soon he was gone, leaving Gohan in this now familiar silence. Any minute now Vejita would either hide way in the nursery or take his perch by the window, as Gohan was left to stumble along through the dark alone. This time, however, Vejita just sat there, stared at Gohan for a while in that same manner he had long ago when Gohan had been afraid to talk to him, and Gohan wanted to sit next to him but was too leery. So he went upstairs, took a shower, went to bed, and expected to be alone until he fell asleep.

That night, he wasn't, as shortly after Vejita miraculously crept inside the bedroom and crawled under the blanket. Gohan didn't dare move, waiting to see what would happen, as Vejita burrowed under the blanket and then very steadily and stealthily crept over and over until he was pressing into Gohan's side.

A long time coming.

Oh, how Gohan wanted, more than anything, to throw an arm over him and be back in those happy days when they sat in front of the fire and murmured to each other for hours.

Soon, it would be that way again. Just had to keep saying it.

Vejita finally muttered, very lowly and very softly, "Gohan."

"Mm?"

"I'm...sorry."

Gohan turned his head in shock. Never in a million lifetimes had he imagined Vejita would ever bend the knee and actually utter those words aloud to anyone, Gohan least of all, way he had been at Gohan's throat.

Gohan stayed silent, and let Vejita say whatever he wanted. Didn't wanna risk a blowout.

Vejita's voice was ever lower, and even though Vejita's forehead was pressing into Gohan's shoulder, still Gohan had to roll his head to the side and down in an effort to hear him.

"I realize that I've been difficult." What an understatement! "And I...don't mean to be. Really. It's not that I... I've been so angry with you, all the time, for no reason, and it's not because of you. It's not you."

"I get it," Gohan murmured in turn, dutifully reassuring as always. It was his job to hold Vejita's head above the water, to keep him upright, and so Gohan of course said what was needed. Even if he didn't really get it. Didn't know any more than Vejita did, apparently, why Gohan bore the brunt of Vejita's wrath.

Vejita hesitated for a long while, and then carried on, "I think I understand now why I've been so angry."

"Oh?"

Vejita and Yamcha must have had some conversation in Gohan's absence. Perhaps Vejita had spilled his soul to Yamcha, someone who he was clearly far more comfortable with than Piccolo.

Vejita pressed his face more fervently into Gohan's arm, perhaps trying to muffle his next words entirely for the sake of pride.

"I'm frightened."

Vejita never said 'sorry', and was certainly never frightened, or at any rate would certainly never admit it.

It was a very serious statement on Vejita's end, and Gohan rolled himself onto his side so that Vejita could burrow into chest and under his arm instead, for every little bit of shield helped when admitting faults and fears. As expected, Vejita stuck his head immediately into Gohan's chest and tried very hard to somehow merge into him, and his next words were so low that Gohan closed his eyes and actually focused fully on his ears in order to pick it up.

"I've been taking it out on you, because I think I was hoping you would leave me."

Hurt.

Gohan was entirely still, frozen up, not even breathing, because the words cut so deeply. Or, rather, what Gohan thought of them did.

A horrible silence, before Gohan found his will and dared to ask, with a crack in his voice, "Do you want me to leave?"

Dreaded that answer.

Maybe Vejita had wanted to murder Gohan because Vejita had realized, somewhere along the way, that Gohan wasn't really what he wanted or needed. Goku was always gone, and Gohan had been the shadow that had lingered.

Vejita was quiet for a while, and answered the question with a question.

"Will you take her from me?"

—what? Take her?

Came out of nowhere. Gohan was so taken aback, in fact, that he pulled back from Vejita in shock, scoffed a little, and breathed, thinly, "What?"

Vejita had been livid for months for no reason, but it was Gohan suddenly who was the wrathful one. Fury, potent and burning up out of nowhere, as quickly as it ever lit in Vejita. Gohan snatched a handful of Vejita's hair, and not gently, yanked Vejita's head up, but couldn't force eye contact, however hard he tried.

When he couldn't lock eyes, Gohan instead asked, in his most steely voice, "Tell me now that you don't think that badly of me."

Gohan was ever calm, ever cool, ever composed, so hard to anger, so hard to rile, perfectly tranquil almost always, and so it was quite foreign to him, that anger, and more than that it was foreign to him that urge he had to slap Vejita. Had they had this conversation while standing, he felt in his heart that he actually would have, and maybe that too was why Vejita had done it like this.

Abruptly, Vejita's eyes snapped up, frighteningly, and locked onto Gohan's with the uncanny magnet of the panther he was.

That gaze; made him shiver. He had seen it once before, long ago, as a desperate Vejita hunted down immortality on Namek. The look of a man who would do anything and everything, even strike down those closest to him, to get something he wanted.

When Vejita spoke, that time his voice was as icy and dangerous and electric as that gaze.

"I know what you lot think of me. I know that I am not what you and yours would consider a 'fit' mother. I don't doubt that you're right, but all the same, I make this oath to you now : I'll kill any single one of you that tries to take her from me. Any of you. Even you. Think what you will of me, but if you or your mother or Kakarotto even think to take her, I'll do anything to keep her. I'd destroy this planet in its entirety before I let any of you steal what's mine."

Speechless.

Gohan had never been so entirely and completely speechless.

His fingers were still tangled in Vejita's hair, and his stupefied daze quickly blazed up again into anger, and, oh, how he meant it when he hissed, "She's mine, too."

Gohan had just as much of a claim to her as Vejita did, and Gohan would also fight tooth and nail if Vejita got it into his head—

Oh! That was it!

Gohan understood very suddenly and out of nowhere, like a lightbulb had gone off over his head. Crystal clear, plain as day, why Vejita sat there by that window, why he looked startled when Gohan walked in, and why he sometimes seemed guilty. Because Vejita was planning on running away, had been mulling it over, thinking about it, contemplating, ready to crawl out of that window at a moment's notice. Ready to run and take her away from Gohan, because he thought that Gohan was going to take her away from him.

Wait—

None of this was right.

Gohan was angry, so angry, and yet in that moment it just couldn't really take hold, couldn't fire, because it was overridden by a tidal wave of pity. Such pity he felt for Vejita, this man who had known nothing but torment, and Gohan longed to ask, 'What the hell happened to you?'

Didn't, because honest to god he didn't wanna know.

Didn't wanna know why Vejita thought Gohan was going to take her away, didn't want to ask if something had been taken before, didn't wanna have that in his head if Vejita actually bothered to answer him, because sometimes it was so much better to be ignorant. Some part of him just didn't want to know anything about Vejita's life, and yeah it was selfish, but Gohan just didn't have the heart or head for it.

Poor bastard.

Couldn't be angry with him then, not really, and so Gohan slumped a little as his fingers loosened up in Vejita's hair, and his voice was as tired as he felt when he said, to that still electric Vejita, "I'm not going anywhere. Not anywhere, and not ever. And if you ever really thought that I would, then you really don't know me at all."

A quick blink from Vejita, a crinkle of his brow, a slight softening of that razor stare.

Gohan withdrew his hand entirely from Vejita's hair, and added, softly, "I know she's all I've talked about lately. Because I do want her, more than anything, but I wanted you first, and I still want you more. I wouldn't take her from you, because anywhere I go, you go, too. I'd follow you, if you wanted, anywhere. Without you, it would be just her and me. It wouldn't be a family, really. I meant everything I said to you. Why would— I love you, but, I'm sorry to say it; if anyone here is running away, it's you. I'm not going anywhere."

With that, Gohan rolled over, back to Vejita, and stared absently at the wall.

The silence then hung low, heavy, could have been cut with a knife, and Gohan didn't sleep.

The first time he had ever said those words aloud :

'I love you.'

Long, miserable hours, as Gohan's mind whirred away, and then finally, over the night lull, a miraculous event; Vejita rolled over, pressed into Gohan's back, and threw an arm over him. A face in the back of his neck, and another low murmur.

"I believe you, and I'm...sorry."

How Vejita struggled to say that word, but Gohan reached up and grabbed the hand over his chest, feeling relief more than anything. As if some boulder had rolled off his shoulders.

Vejita should have believed him, because Gohan wasn't going anywhere, not anywhere, and swore it to the Earth itself and the gods above and the universe entire. Not anywhere. And if Gohan went somewhere, then Vejita and this child were going there, too.

How it always had been and always would be.

When dawn broke, Vejita was still clinging to him, and they lied in bed for most of that day, staring at each silently and attempting to figure the other out. Meeting each other all over again in some sense, but Gohan thought that Vejita looked calmer. More tranquil. The way he had looked last October, when Gohan had kissed him for the first time.

Vejita reached out a while later, and rested his hand on Gohan's cheek.

Blue steadily receded as the fall leaves changed color.

---

November.

The mood was suddenly bright.

The air had cleared, now that Vejita believed that Gohan wasn't going to steal away in the night with their child, and there were no more fights.

Piccolo seemed a little disappointed to no longer be playing 'therapist', but Gohan was up in the clouds, and therefore Chichi was, too, for without that suffocating tension both she and Vejita could shine a little without something igniting in the process.

Bizarre and wondrous, for Gohan to look over and see his mother sitting next to Vejita at the kitchen table, coffee in hand and leaning in towards each other as they prattled. Sometimes their heads butted together, intent as they were on gossiping (probably still about Gohan, in all fairness), and Gohan snorted and smiled to himself as he peered in from time to time.

He was allowed in the nursery now, for Vejita didn't lock himself up in there for hours at a time, no longer nesting away protectively. Vejita didn't sit by the window anymore. No more jumping, and no more guilty glances.

For the first time, Gohan was able to sit down next to Vejita on the couch, lean over, and place his hands atop Vejita's abdomen.

Whoa—

Feelin' her kick for the first time; what a rush! Gohan beamed, sputtered, felt giddy and elated, and started counting down the days until he could actually hold her.

When he glanced up through his lashes, Vejita was perfectly serene. Composed. So put-together and collected, so steady. Dignified. Posed and poised. A prince very much in that moment, even if he wasn't the strongest. Whatever laws had once existed were gone, and to Gohan the last true prince was sitting there right beside of him.

It took more than brute strength to be royalty, and Gohan inclined his head respectfully when he withdrew his hands. A silly gesture, perhaps, amongst an established couple, but sometimes Vejita needed reminders of who he had been and Gohan seemed to be the only one interested in giving them to him.

Vejita's lips twitched.

Days dragged again, but this time because they were lazy and content and Gohan tried to slow down time in his mind to make each day seem as long as possible.

Vejita stared at Gohan very frequently, and this time there was only calm there upon his face. Once again, like before, Gohan was happy to bask in the attention, and once again everything started falling into place. A great hurdle overcome, and more of Vejita's ever so delicate trust gained. Hell, at this rate, maybe before Gohan was ninety he could actually get Vejita to say 'I love you'. Gohan was so pitiful, though, that he would have gladly taken a simple 'I kinda like you'.

First thing was first, though!

Gettin' that bastard to smile.

Now that Vejita was no longer growling at him from behind closed doors and bristling out like a cat when Gohan entered the room, his confidence had returned tenfold. Gohan was strutting about again like he owned the world, swaggered as effortlessly as Yamcha could, held his chin high and thrust his chest out, and Chichi rolled her eyes as she knitted socks.

Vejita followed Gohan with his eyes, always, and when they were alone, Gohan let his inner-dork shine. Didn't care about making an ass of himself anymore in front of Vejita, because he had seen that Vejita was a total wreck and in no place to judge.

So Gohan came back from work sometimes with flowers, which he proceeded to thrust in Vejita's bewildered face. Vejita would sputter and flounder, shove the flowers away, red-faced and glaring, and quickly run upstairs to hide. Sometimes Gohan came back and swaggered forward to snatch Vejita's hand to drag it up and kiss the top of it, as Vejita gawked at him in shock. Vejita would jerk back, mutter incomprehensibly under his breath, and dart away into shadows. Sometimes Gohan would pull a 'Yamcha kissing Bulma's ass after a breakup' and linger outside the bedroom window after work, throwing pebbles gently at it until Vejita crankily thrust up the window and ducked his head out, only for him to get serenaded. Vejita would blaze red, hiss, 'You sound like a dying animal!' and then slam the window shut, but Gohan saw the light frequently, as Vejita pulled back the curtain to peep down every few seconds.

Always Vejita ran away, and always did he come back for more the next day.

It was during the first very heavy snowfall of the year that Gohan's ridiculous antics were finally rewarded.

It was simple, too.

Gohan was staring at the waiting crib, thoughtfully, and glanced over to Vejita standing beside of him. A long pause, and then Gohan whispered, "I hope she has your eyes. I like them so much."

Gohan didn't realize until after he had said it that it was a very double-edged compliment, for insecure Vejita could so easily have taken it as 'I hope she has your eyes, 'cause then I won't miss you as much if I do take her away'.

Luckily, that ice had fortified, and Gohan didn't fall through.

Rather, he got in that moment everything he had wanted, for, just like that, it happened.

A twitch of Vejita's lips, a blink of disbelief, and then, wondrously, he smiled. At last, at long last, finally, after years of hoping to see it, Vejita finally smiled. A real, sincere smile, and not one borne of mania and sinister glee.

Happiness, contentment. Sincerity.

For fifteen years Gohan had known this man, and now, only now, could Gohan finally say he had seen Vejita's real smile.

It was beautiful.

Vejita ducked his head immediately to the side as if mortified, tried hard to hide his face, to force his mask back up, to pretend it hadn't happened, but Gohan was having none of it. He snatched out, grabbed Vejita's chin and forced his head right back up, and was glad to see the miserable son of a bitch was still smiling. Couldn't seem to shake it, and Vejita just seemed to give up, for he didn't struggle in Gohan's hand and his face stopped twitching as Vejita for once seemed to go with the flow.

Vejita smiled, and Gohan felt like the master of the universe.

No one had ever been prouder than Gohan in that moment, he swore it, taking a man who had had humanity beaten out of him and actually getting him to slowly live again, bit by bit.

That smile. Once would be enough.

Gohan, all the same, would strive for more.

Vejita had worn blue when he smiled, and somehow, someway, blue seemed suddenly less stressful and more tranquil.

---

December.

It was time.

Any day now, and Gohan spent most of his free time pacing holes in the floor as he waited. At work, he stared at his phone with such fervor, waiting for that call, that he was shocked it hadn't caught fire.

Waiting and waiting. Couldn't stand it.

Everyone was lurking in the shadows these days, it seemed. Vejita was never alone for any amount of time, however much it greatly annoyed him. If Chichi wasn't there, then Bulma was, and if not Bulma then Yamcha, and if not him then Piccolo swooped in to snoop.

Vejita was irritable as hell, understandably so, in constant pain as he was and denied the solitude and personal space he emotionally required. Vejita's back hurt and his ankles were swollen and he probably wanted to cry like he had been for months but was holding it in because he didn't want Gohan to get upset. Well, until Yamcha accidentally broke a mug, and then the little jerk started bawling.

December trudged along, and suddenly it was a few days before the new year.

Gohan was ready to rip his hair out, and Chichi's foot was always tapping.

Vejita tried to settle Gohan down by reminding him that Saiyans were born far more adept and developed than Earthling babies, and therefore extra time was a good thing, less to worry about, and it sounded great on paper but didn't get rid of the crease in Vejita's brow.

Don't worry, Vejita said, as he seemed to be the most worried of all.

Vejita's fear of failure was no secret, and even though he had visibly attempted to remain detached, Gohan knew very well that something going wrong would have destroyed already broken Vejita ever more.

The last day of December finally came, and they were gathered, as they so often were, at Bulma's. Celebrating as usual, and this time so much to celebrate. The sun had set, that early winter darkness, but there was a good six hours left before the clock chimed. A great year for Bulma and Yamcha, and should have been a great one for Gohan and Vejita, too, but the stubborn kid was takin' a little longer than she should have.

Or...?

Vejita was testily glaring at Bulma, who was hammering back glass after glass of champagne, and Gohan heard him bitterly gripe, "I'm drinking you under the table soon, woman, just you watch."

"So do it," Bulma tipsily snarked back. "You're all talk!"

Vejita lifted his chin snootily, finagled himself out of his chair and somehow onto his feet, and trudged tiredly over to Yamcha, griping, "Why don't you keep her in line?"

"Hmph!" Yamcha snorted, who was himself hammering back his fifth shot. "I have as much chance of keepin' her in line as Gohan does of keeping you in line. Which means zero. Don't you sit there and act like you're not twins."

At hearing his name, Gohan swiveled his head, on his eighth shot, and blearily hunted down the source.

Not a moment too soon.

"Well," Vejita muttered, rubbing suddenly at his temple as he carried on his slow march towards Yamcha, "You should... Really, you oughta..."

A squint of Vejita's eyes, a shake of his head. Very abruptly, out of nowhere, Vejita stopped talking mid-sentence. Just fell entirely silent, and when Gohan glanced up, Vejita's eyes had entirely unfocused. Staring off into absolute nothing, and then he swayed.

Gohan bolted up in a rush of drunk panic, but Yamcha was closer and it was he who caught Vejita when he suddenly fainted. For the best, really, because Gohan was already in full hysteria mode before Vejita had even hit Yamcha's arms, and Yamcha was tipsy too and so he fell backwards onto the ground with Vejita atop him. Still, he had done his duty and prevented Vejita from hitting the floor, so, eh, success.

Of all damn times, had to be when everyone was fuckin' hammered, didn't it?

Chichi, stone-cold sober as always, marched forward, grabbed blubbering Gohan's shoulders, tossed him backwards, and took charge.

"Bulma!" she called, shooing Gohan away when he tried to creep in, "How drunk are you?"

"Not that drunk," Bulma called back, already darting over, and from how she didn't fall on her face in transit Gohan actually believed her. Everyone else was smashed, except for Piccolo, and so it was he who picked up unconscious Vejita from atop Yamcha and followed where Bulma led.

Gohan tried to go, too, but was held back by his father.

"It's better if you stay here. You'll get in the way, if you're freakin' out."

He was right, hated to say, so Gohan watched the two things he loved being swept out of his sight and right out of his control. Nothing to do then but wait, for ever had it been the plan for Vejita to give birth here at Bulma's. Couldn't really take him to an Earthling hospital and not make everyone's head explode.

Again, that awful waiting.

Gohan paced holes in the floor, as the snow fell heavily outside, and sometimes Gohan crashed into Yamcha or Goku, he was so lost in his head.

The clock ticked away. Four hours to midnight.

And then there was a sudden shrill, gut-wrenching shriek from beyond the door.

"GOHAN!"

Vejita, awake and apparently in horrific pain.

A rush of panic, terror, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow, that chilliness of adrenaline, and Gohan instinctively darted over to the door. Vejita was screaming for him, and Gohan tripped over his own feet to get there to him. When his hand reached out for the handle, someone had suddenly snatched his arm, dragging him back a pace. Gohan dumbly turned his head to see sobering Yamcha, who had inexplicably halted his run.

Gohan tried to shake him off, but Yamcha held very fast, and cried, "Whoa! My man, believe me, you do not wanna go in there."

Full of dread and too antsy to sit still, Gohan tried to shake Yamcha off again and retorted, "What? Of course I do! I have to—he's calling for me."

Yamcha dragged him back a pace as Gohan stubbornly clung to the doorknob, warning, "He ain't callin' for you because he wants you to come hold his hand. Mark my words, you walk in there right now, and you're gonna walk out missing something."

Sure enough, as soon as the words had left Yamcha's mouth, there was another piercing shriek.

"GOHAN! YOU BASTARD! Where are you? I'm going to break your legs!"

Fuck, man, why did he always aim for the legs?

Gohan immediately let go of the door handle and let Yamcha drag him back. Whew! Bullet dodged.

"Thanks," Gohan muttered, in a daze, and Yamcha snorted.

"Don't mention it."

Yamcha would know, after all.

With little recourse, stomach churning from that awful shrieking, Gohan plopped down in a chair, put his elbows on his knees, and clenched his fingers in his hair.

His foot tapped furiously.

Bulma and his mother were locked away behind that door with Piccolo, where Gohan shoulda been, and the daze of alcohol was steadily lifting up, burnt away by that adrenaline and fear and expectation. Praying, praying, that everything would be alright.

Hours felt like lifetimes, and then Vejita was quiet.

Oh, that dread.

Ten minutes to midnight, there was a hand on Gohan's shoulder. His mother, and when he glanced up dazedly, she was leaning over and smiling.

Smiling.

The weight of the world seemed to lift up.

"Come on," she whispered, as she tugged him clumsily to his feet. "Someone wants to meet you."

She grabbed his hand and walked him over, where the door was now unlocked. He hesitated in the frame, terrified, because he didn't know if Vejita was there waiting with that 'someone'. He stopped short, and Chichi was forced to drag him inside.

And there they were.

Oh—!

Walking into that room, and seeing everything was alright. That everything had gone according to plan. That they were both there, and both well. Seeing in there everything he hadn't even known he had wanted, as a clammy and pale and sweaty Vejita sat upright, something clenched very protectively in his arms.

Could smell her, potently, and knew that everything was going to be fine.

Gohan slumped against the doorframe, exhaled, and suddenly there was the bang of fireworks in the distance, all around.

Vejita glanced up, caught Gohan's eye over his shoulder, and Chichi murmured, "Happy New Year, Gohan."

She kissed his cheek, and then walked out.

Just him and Vejita and her, then, as it was meant to be, and Gohan sat on the edge of the bed and tried to get a glimpse of her, but Vejita had all but buried her under his arms and had formed a ball around her, so Gohan would be patient and wait.

He had waited this long; could wait a little longer.

---

It was a hectic time, which was strange, because it was also the calmest stretch of time Gohan had known recently.

Calm, because Vejita had once again barricaded himself up in that nursery and didn't come out, and hectic, because everyone tried to come see the baby. Everyone wanted to hold her, to get a good look at her, to meet her officially, but Vejita would let no one but Bulma and Yamcha inside.

Once again, Gohan was thrust out.

He didn't take it personally this time, and patiently waited down below as Bulma and Yamcha no doubt tried to convince Vejita that none of them were going to snatch her away and then run. That he could trust them.

It took two days, but finally Vejita relented, and Gohan lifted his head to see Bulma coming downstairs, a bundle in her hands. Relief. Gohan jumped up and ran over, eagerly took his child, and for the first time he was able to really examine her, now that she wasn't so pink and her eyes were clearing a little.

Just as he had hoped, she had Vejita's eyes. Pitch-black hair like Gohan. Swore he saw a little bit of Chichi there, too, in the cheeks. She was beautiful, as Gohan had always known she would be.

She was dressed in blue.

Gohan lifted his eyes, to spy Vejita lurking above, staring down like a hawk, watching and waiting and daring someone to take her away.

Gohan held his gaze, and said, "Come with me. Together, remember?"

An awful silence, and then Yamcha appeared at Vejita's side and clapped his back encouragingly, whispering something Gohan couldn't hear.

Hesitation, and then a step on the stair, one more, and from there it was easy, as Vejita trailed behind Gohan like a second shadow and stared down everyone that held her within their arms. Ready to snap someone's legs at a breath, but the fact that paranoid Vejita was letting each of them hold her spoke so much about how far along he had come.

When she fell into Goku's hands, Goku lifted his gaze to hold Vejita's, and Gohan swore they were communicating without words. Wouldn't understand them, never, and when Goku inclined his head to Vejita as Gohan often did, Vejita's stiff stance loosened.

Her tail had looped around Goku's wrist, and Vejita seemed to calm.

It did occur to Gohan that perhaps he should gather up the Dragonballs soon and wish for both he and Vejita to get their tails back, for it seemed greatly lacking now that she was here.

Hours that Vejita allowed himself to surrender control, and when everyone had had their fill, she was finally placed by Krillin back into Vejita's eager arms, and he immediately vanished upstairs.

Bulma snorted, and uttered, "Well! One step at a time."

They dispersed shortly after, each offering words of encouragement, and then Gohan crept upstairs. A careful knock, a twist of the doorknob, but this time it wasn't locked, and Gohan took that as an invitation. He poked his head in, didn't get punched and heard no growl, and crept inside.

Vejita had finally set her down in the crib, bundled so deep under a nest of blankets that she wasn't visible, and when Gohan crept over, Vejita turned to look at him.

A long study up and down.

"Here," Vejita said, as he held something out.

A paper, and Gohan took it, curiously, and unfolded it. A list of names, ones he had never heard, and he knew they were Saiyan.

"I'll let you name her," Vejita said, very pointedly, and when Gohan glanced up, Vejita had turned his eyes to the wall.

Gohan understood.

Vejita was placing at last into his hands complete and total trust. To let Gohan name her meant giving up control, meant allowing Gohan some reign, meant allowing Gohan to have a claim, a stake, meant letting someone get close to this thing Vejita would kill to keep. So soon and yet far too late, Vejita trusted Gohan all the way. It was very likely that this was the first time in his life Vejita had ever given that to anyone, and Gohan wouldn't take it for granted.

He folded the paper up, tucked it in his breast pocket, and said, casually, "We'll look it over tonight. And we'll choose something together."

Vejita turned his head, allowed one of those rare moments of unguarded eye contact, and then smiled.

A low, rumbling murmur.

"When I left home at five years old, this was not how I envisioned my life unfolding. I had very grandiose dreams for myself. Never was this one of them. All the same... However it came to pass, whatever happened along the way, I don't think I can envision now anything better for someone like me. I'm...grateful that we met."

Had never imagined he'd hear such a thing from proud Vejita, and there was nothing good enough Gohan could say to that, so he came forward and kissed Vejita's forehead.

They watched her squirming beneath the blankets for a while, but before they could sit down and think of a name, Goku oddly enough had returned. They just glanced up and there he was, floating outside the nursery window, waving geekily and imploring to be let in. Vejita rolled his eyes, cursed under breath, but Gohan was certain that he was glad to see him, for he went over with no hesitation and flung open the window.

Goku was allowed into that sacred place, and Gohan left them alone for a while.

The next day, Goku came again. And the day after that. And the day after that one.

It was odd, because Goku was the one that had visited the least often, and now suddenly Goku was visiting every single day, and rather than annoying Vejita, it seemed to be greatly helping Vejita's social anxiety. Gohan wouldn't pretend to understand why. Didn't matter; it was remarkable to see, all the same. To come home from work, and to see them there.

Gohan walked in, and saw Goku sitting beside of Vejita, their sides pressed together as Goku held the baby very carefully with Vejita watching over. They were murmuring to each other, softly, so lowly that Gohan couldn't make out their words, and Gohan leaned there in the doorframe and watched them for a while.

Orange and blue, together.

Vejita broke off his murmuring suddenly, to lift his eyes and glance up ever so briefly at Gohan. Their gazes locked, and as Gohan smiled away, for just the briefest of moments, Vejita smiled, too, in front of someone else.

Astonishing.

Only a split second that that mask fell, that the wall came down, that the defenses were breached, but that was enough, more than enough, when Vejita's face was soft and relaxed, eyes lidded and no line of tension in his brow or forehead. Nothing at all aside from tranquility. Serenity. Not something Gohan had never seen before, no, but something Gohan had certainly never seen upon Vejita.

It was beautiful, somehow even more so than that smile had been.

And that time, when Gohan saw blue, it was welcoming and calm and comforting. Blue became Gohan's favorite color, because it clad his two favorite people.

Orange was security.

Blue was love.