Twists And Turns

Chapter 9

I would have been happy to leave it at that. Okay, maybe happy was too strong a word – I could barely remember the last time that emotion had crossed my mind. Gods, I was pathetic. Stuck in a loop I had forced on myself; an ever-tightening noose that was cutting off the things I used to rely on little by little.

Regardless, Vegeta wouldn't let me break off the conversation there, and he broke into my train of thought with another question. He is just full of difficult questions, isn't he?

"W-when did you realize I wasn't lying?" he asked uncertainly.

Somewhere deep down I had known the truth the whole time, but I hadn't had the time or means to accept it considering everything else I had on my plate. That is, until it was shoved in my face just now.

I bit my thumbnail thoughtfully, "About seven hours ago when your ki went all wobbly," I said, "And I had to leave a meeting at court to IT over and save your ass."

Granted, that particular meeting at court wasn't one I would have wanted to endure if I were given the choice, but...

"You were at court?" Vegeta interrupted my thoughts, "Why?"

I glared at him, did I not just mention that ChiChi and I were getting a divorce?

"I got a job there, Vegeta, what do you think?" I snapped sarcastically, unsure where that retort had come from, "No, I was there to file a divorce with ChiChi, but obviously I was interrupted... ChiChi said she'd been planning to get a divorce for a long time now."

I remembered overhearing that when she was talking to the attorney, and I wasn't sure why it made me as upset as it did. She was planning to split up? For how long, exactly? What had I done that had finally made up her mind, besides the obvious?

"...I had no argument;" I went on, mostly because I couldn't come up with one fast enough, "Things were getting kind of stale between us to be honest. We talked about it for a long time," Well, she talked about it with that damn attorney, she only gave me four of five words the night before, "We went to court to ask for advice, and last night the final stake was driven in when I showed up with you and tried to explain your condition." I got a perverse sense of amusement to see the wince that crossed his face, glad I was making him uncomfortable; it gave me a sense of empowerment, "The divorce will be finalized in a few weeks."

I hadn't expected to tell him that much, but once I started talking the words just came pouring out. I guess keeping the conflict bottled inside was probably unhealthy.

Vegeta said nothing, and it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to say more. What else can I say? What other explanation can I give?

"When I left court and teleported to where you were, I sensed another ki signature," I went on nervously, trying to fill the uneasy silence, "One I didn't recognize, and it was coming from you," I glanced at him quickly, but I couldn't read his expression, "Your unstable ki must have dipped low enough for me to be able to pick it up."

The prince's hand moved, and he lay it across his abdomen uncertainly. I could feel a faint tremor of fear in his ki, and I blinked. He's afraid of me. Or rather, my strength. I suppose I had become pretty unpredictable, but I hadn't thought of hurting him... not really. I wanted him to feel at least some of the torment he'd inflicted unknowingly on me, but I wasn't about to deal it with my own hand.

I glanced at his face, "How long?" I asked bluntly.

"What?" he sounded perplexed.

"How long has it been?" I clarified, moving my bangs out of my eyes restlessly. I had a rough guess, but I wanted to be sure before I decided anything; or let Vegeta decide anything.

"A little less than two months," the prince said softly, the hand he'd laid protectively on his midsection shifting a little.

I thought about it, he doesn't seem to have a definite day memorized... "That sounds right," I nodded, "I remember, but..."

Vegeta looked at me in confusion at my hesitance.

"...Never mind." I said quickly.

"No, Kakarot, what were you going to say?" he asked.

I considered how much I should tell him; and whether to bring my developing theories into the mix...

"ChiChi started showing around week three with Gohan," I said, not expecting him to understand where I was going with my words, "And you barely are now." I had only been able to detect the physical change to the prince's body through touch, and I probably wouldn't have discerned it at all if I hadn't known him for over a decade. Only when I could compare him with how he should be...

"What are you implying?" Vegeta queried, sounding unnerved.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to straighten my thoughts. Not easy to do with the object of my internal chaos sitting right in front of me. I wanted to strangle him sometimes, and sometimes I wanted to just take him in my arms and... I cut off the thought quickly. It was stupid really, how twisted he'd made me without even trying.

I opened my eyes again, to focus on the subject at hand.

"Maybe... maybe p-pregnancy is longer for Saiyans than it is for humans." That was one of my theories. From what I'd been told by my grandpa Gohan of when he'd found me as a baby; as infants, Saiyans were pretty well-developed, capable of more than just basic motor skills... and possessing all the hair they'd ever have, if what Vegeta had told me about Saiyans' hair never changing held true. It would make sense that a Saiyan pregnancy would take longer, needing more time to properly develop the baby.

I still had a hard time connecting the word "pregnancy" with Vegeta. The ideas were in totally different leagues in my mind, it was hard to apply one to the other in a way that actually made sense.

"I wouldn't know," Vegeta muttered eventually, "I don't know a thing about either kind."

Well he wouldn't. I thought snidely. The proud prince Vegeta would have no time for learning about such things, after all, and wouldn't deign to pay attention if it was taught. He probably thought he'd never have to worry about it. And then of course... he wasn't there for Bulma before Trunks was born.

"Well then," I said flatly, getting to my feet and looking at the prince; "You're in luck, because I at least know about human pregnancy – so do ChiChi and Bulma, obviously – both of them made me sit through their many complaints and constant griping and ultrasounds –"

"Ultra-whats?" Vegeta interrupted blankly.

A hot flash of annoyance flared in my veins; his ignorance on the whole subject just rubbed me the wrong way. He didn't bother to learn any of this himself? What kind of parent – excuse me, expecting parent – was he? That is, if he bothered to keep the poor fetus in the first place? I wondered if he even knew what abortion was; if he'd ruled it out of his list of options yet if he did.

"Bulma hasn't done that yet?" I asked. I remembered how she'd mentioned going to the clinic often for check-ups when she was pregnant. Just to be safe, she'd said. Did she not care if Vegeta received the same attention? It probably hadn't crossed her mind. She probably was too busy considering whether it was safe to dissect the embryo while it was still in the womb... or whatever the unnatural contraption in the prince's messed up anatomy was.

"N-no," Vegeta answered, "What is it?"

I was tempted to spit a bitter "look it up yourself", but I held my tongue and reined in my irritation.

"Just a way of examining the fetus while it's still in the womb," I said, damn near quoting ChiChi's dictionary definition of the word.

Vegeta got unsteadily to his feet; I felt his ki swerve a bit from his fall earlier, but he found his balance quickly.

"I'll talk to Bulma about this," I muttered absently, "After all, that's my child too."

Much as I didn't want to admit it. I snuffed out an instinctive niggling of pride that a small piece of me was growing and developing within the prince. I wouldn't allow myself to fall prey to those thoughts. For some reason they scared me. I was afraid of replacing my family, losing everything I had just to gain something that I hadn't asked for. What kind of exchange was that? I couldn't keep both, could I? Did I even want to?

"Kakarot," Vegeta began, he almost sounded beseeching, "Why are you so mad at me? Why are you so against this?"

Why AREN'T you?! I distinctly heard a tinge of the monster in that nearly-screaming thought. Why was the prince accepting this? How could he? Why could he just let himself be changed like that?

….Why couldn't I?

"Hn," I muttered, "I thought of all people, you'd be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the prince snapped.

I glared at him, "It's a commitment, Vegeta," I said shortly, "One I thought you wouldn't be interested in."

He'd never been one for family, or for kids, after all.. Did he even know what it meant to be pregnant? What it entailed?

"It's also a major ordeal," I continued, remembering things I hadn't thought about in years, "I only had to witness it once, and that was bad enough. ChiChi had to go through it twice. I can't even imagine that."

And I wasn't there for her that second time. I thought bluntly, namely because I was dead.

Vegeta looked at me, "What do you mean?"

Oh my gods, he actually doesn't know. I don't know why I was surprised, but I'd thought the prince would at least know something about what he was in for.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" I could hear how sharp my voice was. I thought about what I'd just asked, and I laughed without humor, "Of course Bulma didn't. She gets her scattered brain from her mother. And obviously you wouldn't know. You weren't there when Bulma was pregnant with Trunks."

No, you were too busy trying to surpass me. I thought bitterly.

"Ask any woman on the face of the Earth;" I retorted, "Or any planet for that matter. Being pregnant is not a walk in the park."

His eyes narrowed in scrutiny, "I know that," he began.

I almost laughed. He doesn't know a damn thing.

"Do you?" I snapped sarcastically, "You're a month and a half in and you know everything there is to know?"

I didn't know why I bothered, he probably wouldn't listen to me anyway. It took a moment for me to notice I actually had his full attention. ...He looked nervous and a little worried.

I shook my head slowly, might as well.

"First of all," I said, "There are the hormones. Believe me, that's bad enough as it is." I remembered how crazy my wife – or was she my ex-wife now? - had been when she was under the influence of estrogen and all that other insanity.

"ChiChi is high strung by nature, but when she was pregnant it was like she was a demon with black hair. And with you there'd also be the male hormones mixed in, and I can't even imagine what kind of chaos that'd cause."

I glanced at him, thinking about what little I'd seen of pregnancy's effect on him. He wasn't very far in now, but how much had he been through yet?

"Then there's the morning sickness," I began.

"I know -" Vegeta began quickly.

"I'm not finished." I cut him off, "You think it's bad now?" He probably did, self-pity was rare for him, but I can't say I hadn't seen him play the "oh, poor me" card. More than once.

"Just wait until nearly everything you smell and every bit of food you look at makes you want to hurl." I went on, "With your sensitive Saiyan nose, it shouldn't take long. You wouldn't believe how many times I got up at the crack of dawn to sit with ChiChi while she puked her guts up." I could feel the monster edging its way into my words, turning them sharp and deliberate.

"And why? Because she asked me to." A rush of daring flashed through me and I added, "How many times has Bulma done that for you?"

He blinked once, and I had my answer. She'd left him to deal with it on his own. I wasn't surprised. Much as Bulma continued to draw in friends and care for those she loved, she could still be unbelievably thoughtless when it came to others.

"Then there's the cravings," I continued; I sighed shortly, a sound of faint amusement rather like a laugh, "ChiChi demanded the craziest things; smoked salmon with barbeque sauce, cottage cheese with parmesan; she put ranch on everything.I assume it'll be even crazier for you, since you're Saiyan and all."

Of course, that was a rather small theory of mine. Considering a Saiyan appetite and mixed up hormones, there was no telling what the prince would demand on his plate... Or Saiyan pregnancy might turn out completely different... Maybe I was reading too deeply into it, or not deeply enough.

"And that's all before she got big." I went on, "Then she started complaining that her back hurt and the baby was kicking her ribs out. She was hungry all the time and achy and uncomfortable."

Something occurred to me, while on the subject of maternal discomfort. Oh, if Vegeta didn't know about this he was in for a shocker.

"And then there's childbirth. Just the word itself recalls horrors or blood, sweat and screaming." I said bitterly, remembering how ChiChi had thrashed and screamed as Gohan had slowly and painfully made his way into the world, "They say there's absolutely nothing more painful than giving birth. That's why all the girls say we're lucky to be male, you know. Well…" I glanced at the prince with something between a scowl and a sneer, completely the monster's doing... I hoped, "…Most of us."

My tirade was rewarded with the look of dread I'd caused on Vegeta's face. I was sure he didn't fear pain; neither did I, but he knew I wouldn't describe something like this if I didn't speak from experience, even if I'd only seen it from the sidelines.

"And after that," I concluded, "There's the midnight crying and the feeding and the diapers and the sleep-deprivation. The terrible twos. The teenage years. Trust me, it's a nightmare."

"But -" Vegeta stammered, "With your sons, you seem so happy."

Is that what he wants? I thought, The fairy tale family everyone dreams about? Hell, even I knew that was a myth before Gohan was even conceived...

No, that wasn't it... he just wanted reassurance from me. Wanted to know there was some semblance of payoff from all the suffering I'd described.

"Well I wasn't there for most of Goten's childhood, and you didn't even know me when Gohan was little." I muttered. I wasn't sure what to say. Whether to attempt to comfort the prince or show him exactly what he'd turned me into.

"So then…. You regret it?" the prince asked carefully, "You regret having children?"

Is that all he got from what I said? I thought. If so, then I wasted my time.

"No." I said, conviction coloring the word, "I don't regret it. Goten and Gohan are my whole world, I love them to pieces and I'd do anything for them."

Vegeta was silent a moment.

"But..." he began, a line of thought appearing between his eyebrows; clearly he was trying to understand, "You don't want another."

You're not giving me a whole lot of choice.

I flicked my bangs out of my eyes frustratedly, "I'm tied down again. And this time it's you tying me down. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Then…you…." Vegeta swallowed hard, "Y-you don't want me to keep it?"

Apparently he misunderstood. He wasn't just tying me down with the conflicted issue of him being pregnant. Gods, if that was all it was, I wouldn't bother myself over it so much. Because of him I'd become something I was starting to loath, and because of him the monster of a passenger of anger was slowly eating away at me from the inside. But he didn't seem to know any of this. And I wasn't sure if I could tell him.

I sighed and spoke again, "That's your decision to make, Vegeta. But you shouldn't make it unless you've got all the facts. Not some half-explanation of Bulma's. I'll stay with you until it's born, because that's my responsibility, if you do keep it. But no longer, and for no other reason."

I didn't know how well I could uphold that, considering I could barely stand to look at the prince without battling conflicting violent and lustful urges. But at least I was doing something, whereas he hadn't even given Bulma the time of day when she was going through this ordeal.

"Well," Vegeta said slowly, tactfully, "I'm going to keep it. No matter what you say. I've worked too hard to turn back now. You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I won't tie you down.I've got the woman's help; that should be more than enough."

Just as I thought. He thought he had everything figured out and he'd done so much work to get wherever he thought he was now. Hell, he'd practically been dropped there, he hadn't had to do anything. Gods, he thinks he's so damn entitled. I was trying to offer him some support from someone who actually knew what they were doing, and he was brushing me off. Does he think I want to stick around and help him, when I can hardly figure out what the hell's happening to me because of him?

"Even if you think I don't have an ounce of pride in me – maybe I don't, maybe I don't want to – " I said sharply, "I at least have a sense of duty. You've taken just about everything from me; I won't let you take that too."

And just like that, he was enraged.

"I'm sorry, who's taken what from you?" he shouted, "I haven't taken a damn thing from you! If anything you took everything from me! My freedom, my dignity, my body…! I didn't ask for this, I didn't even consider it! But I'm seeing it through, whether I like it or not! I doubt I'd be able to say the same of you if you were in my position, you coward! So I'll say it," he inhaled slowly, "I'm pregnant... And I'm proud. I'm proud of myself, I'm proud of my decision and I'm proud of my son... Or daughter. And you can just go to hell if you think you're going to take that away!"

I wasn't sure what made me angrier... The fact that he could be so godsdamn blind, or the fact that he was so haughty about it. So he was detained for nine months or so because he'd been careless and cheated on his – wait, was Bulma even his wife?... Nothing he wouldn't recover from. He'd gotten himself into this mess, he could get himself out; and here I was offering to lend him a hand, when it was his ENTIRE fault that I had even met the monster and started falling too quickly to climb back up. I had lost my wife, the acceptance of many of my friends, and my entire identity. He had no damn room to talk about not asking for his current set of problems. He had no right to deal out the word coward when he hadn't taken a single step in my shoes. He had no right to be proud of something that was slowly destroying everything I used to be.

"I've been to Hell," I said coldly, "So have you. Where do you think the kid will go?"

He blinked, and I knew that one had gone over his head, "What?"

"King Kai said there wasn't a single Saiyan besides me and the half-Saiyans that went up above. They were all sent to Hell, Vegeta. Do you want to put your child through that?" I wasn't sure where the words came from, but they gave an outlet for some of the simmering rage in my veins without giving voice to all the madness in my head.

Vegeta looked frustrated, "Look, do you want to leave or not? Make up your mind, Kakarot, stay or go."

"This is my house." There should have been more anger in the statement, but my voice sounded totally neutral. I don't know how I pulled that off.

"Not the point," Vegeta snapped, ""Are you going to make me go through this alone? Because I will, if you decide to back out."

He's awfully convinced for someone who has the parental experience of a teaspoon.

"I'll stay," I said quietly, "But not for you, Vegeta. I'll stay for the child. Once it's born, I'm leaving."

He probably didn't understand why I said that. Once the child was born it would have Bulma and other people to look after it, but while it was still a zygote in the prince's body, it was helpless. And knowing Vegeta, he wouldn't know how much was too much, how far was too far. He could be extremely careless when it came to his own safety – take today for example – and he would need someone to tell him when to stop and when to think of the child first. Someone who wasn't a reckless, self-absorbed prince who had never had something else's safety depending on his own before.

Vegeta studied me for a long moment, as if wondering whether I was completely sane or not.

That's something even I don't know...

"Fine," he said at last, "You want in? Welcome aboard."

It was probably for the best that I didn't mention the monster throughout all this... or at all. The prince already questioned my sanity – with his eyes, but it was the same idea – I doubted he would be so willing to accept my help if he knew what a dangerous passenger I carried in the depths of my mind.

TBC

((So now we have a new name for the monster. Goku referred to it as a passenger twice now, and I think I'll use that sometimes when he's thinking about it. This chapter turned out really long, mostly because I kept explaining what Goku was thinking throughout the whole thing. He's got a lot more weighing on his mind than it appeared in NIAMY.

Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing, and I'm sorry I just keep switching back and forth between two stories, my imagination's been giving me kind of a one-track-mind right now.

-Shinsun))