Special thanks to BluEydMnstr for beta-ing!

Chapter Six

Bulma skidded to a halt just in time to save herself from running into Isaka's back as the leading pair stopped suddenly in front of a large door. She blinked once before following at a safe distance away from them, realizing that this was the same room she herself had been in the day before. Another familiar sight met her wary gaze as startled silver eyes lifted from one of the large tubular tanks that lined the wall.

"Laresk-san, what's... Kakarotto-sama!"

Isaka touched down on the smooth tile floor and half carried, half drug his father's flaccid body to the first medical bed in a long row that took up the opposing side of the room before acknowledging the panicked medic. "Serori-san, set up one of the tanks," came the curt command from the young man as he began pulling off Kakarotto's clothing.

"Of-of course, Isaka-sama."

Without a conscious thought, Bulma closed the distance between herself and the other occupants of the room with small steps as she watched the violet-skinned woman Isaka called Serori begin preparing the largest of the regenerative chambers.

On the other side of the room, Isaka had already gotten his father's boots and breastplate off and was in the process of removing the tightly fitting bodysuit. "Close the door," he managed out between fierce tugs. "I don't want anyone seeing my father like this." With an impatient scowl, the boy ripped the fabric from Kakarotto's limp body, leaving him clad in only a small pair of tight fitting black shorts.

Laresk turned to obey, but stopped short as he noticed Bulma for the first time since leading her to her bedroom. The man's already wide eyes nearly popped out of his head at seeing the blue-haired stowaway. "Bulma-san! What are you doing here?"

"She followed us," Isaka answered flatly.

He knew? Bulma's questioning gaze landed on the boy who had, for the first time, moved his attention momentarily from the form of his helpless father. Of course he knew, she realized. He was part Saiyajin; he must have felt her ki trailing behind them. But why didn't he say anything?

The man-child's fiery sapphire orbs held hers intently for only a second before becoming hardened pinpoints as they shifted to Laresk. "Now, if you're done gawking, you can do as I asked and close the damn door," he growled.

Laresk nodded quickly. "Yes sir!" The wiry man immediately brushed past Bulma and secured the door. Bulma assumed that since Isaka had not stated that she had to leave, her presence was okay with the young man, so she braved several steps forward until she could see both the regen tank and the man who would be using it better. Her attention went first to the machine until a groan cut through the room, and she looked to the source, captured instantly within the confused stare of Kakarotto.

"Bulma..."

Bulma's breath caught in her throat at the softly spoken call. It was obvious to her that the sharp-witted Saiyajin she had met in this time was presently dazed and unaware of who he was addressing.

Isaka rested a hand on his father's shoulder. "Don't try to speak, Dad," the boy requested gently. "You need to rest."

Still the clouded eyes remained on the woman standing a few feet away as one battle-calloused hand reached forward shakily. "Bulma..."

Bulma looked to Isaka who, bless his brave warrior heart, appeared to fight fiercely against his own sadness and uncertainty at the sight of his sire calling out to the tangible memory of his mother before them. When the bright blue eyes lifted to her, she knew Isaka's control was fading fast. The youth was already having to deal with the effects of her sudden appearance on him, and she knew that he was ill-prepared to deal with his father's as well.

Serori, from her uninformed position, took a tentative step towards Bulma while shifting her gaze between her leader on the medical bed and his mate standing several feet away. "What - what's wrong, Bulma-san?"

And still Kakarotto continued to summon her as he struggled against both his own exhaustion and his son's grasp as he attempted to push himself up. "B - Bulma..." he croaked, his eyes screwed shut with effort.

Bulma swallowed hard. Oh God...

"Dad, please," Isaka begged softly as his eyes began glittering with building moisture. "Rest now. Save your strength."

Kakarotto shook his head in weak defiance before a thin hand took his offered one and gave it a gentle squeeze, stilling him immediately. Isaka's jaw clenched instinctively, forcing a sob to the back of his throat at the painful sight before him.

"Isaka's right," Bulma stated softly. "Rest now."

"So... so much to... tell you," the man whispered as he looked at the beautiful woman once again through unguarded eyes. "So much -"

Bulma felt the lump in her own throat as she took in everything that passed through the glossy obsidian orbs. "Later." Before she knew she was doing it, her hand lifted to brush a stubborn ebony strand from the man's face. "We'll talk when you're feeling better," she added before attempting to pull away. Her progress was stopped as the furry tail that had been hanging loosely off the side of the bed suddenly wrapped around her wrist.

"I don't... want to go... into a tank," he managed out. "Just need... to lay here... for awhile. You know how much... I hate those things. Doesn't work... anyway."

Bulma's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, it doesn't work?"

"Ever since the first time this happened," Isaka interjected hesitantly, "the tanks aren't as effective as they were before. They will heal him, but it takes much longer than it should, and he still must rest afterwards to regain all of his strength. No one's been able to figure out why."

Bulma's brain went to work. "Is the solution based on the original Saiyajin formula?"

"Yes," the boy replied, surprise evident in his tone. "You-" He stopped for a moment before steeling his resolve. "I mean, my mother recreated it from the information in one of the scouters that was retrieved many years ago."

Just like we did in my time. Bulma nodded negligibly to herself before turning to Serori. "Are those machines designed so that you can control the amount of enzymes released into the fluid?"

The woman blinked several times before nodding dumbly, completely confused as to why Bulma would need to know information on her own brain child.

"Then you need to increase whatever you've got going in there," Bulma declared matter-of-factly. "If you don't, you might as well throw him into a swimming pool for all the good it will do."

"Increase it?" Serori asked cautiously, her eyes darting between everyone in the room. "By how much?"

Bulma bit her lip thoughtfully. "Ten times should do the trick."

"T - ten times?!" Serori gaped at Bulma as though she had sprouted wings. "But that will kill him!"

"Trust me," Bulma snapped, "it won't hurt him at all. In fact, he should come out stronger each time he uses it."

Serori shook her head. "I can't - "

"Do it," Isaka commanded softly.

"Sir?"

Isaka growled impatiently. "Do what she says. Increase the enzymes in the fluid."

"But... but," Serori stuttered. "What if something happens?"

Bulma had had enough. She unwound the tail that still coiled around her wrist before advancing on the woman. "Look, I'll stay with him to make sure nothing goes wrong. If it looks like he's in any danger at all, I'll drain the thing and pull him out." When the woman gave no response, Bulma put a hand on her hip and scowled. "Fine." With that, she stalked past the startled medic and began studying the controls to the regen tank. Luck was with her as she saw that the design was almost identical to the one she had in her own house. She immediately began punching in commands and making necessary adjustments. Less than a minute later, she was finished and the door to the machine opened with a soft hiss. She went back to Kakarotto's side and offered him a small smile. "Now you'll be good as new in no time."

He returned it with a tired smirk. "You always know... just what I need."

For just a moment, the man on the bed seemed so much like her Son-kun, it was too easy to play along. "Well, you can't always be the tough guy," Bulma responded gently.

Kakarotto chuckled softly as his eyes slipped shut once again. "I've missed you," came the whispered admission just before the Saiyajin warrior passed out for the second time.

Bulma took a shaky breath before her attention was drawn to her alternate self's son who was currently fighting a losing battle to reign in the emotions the short conversation had instigated. A wave of maternal protectiveness wove its way through Bulma's consciousness at the sight that reminded her a great deal of the second time she had met Trunks. It was bad enough that Laresk and Serori had witnessed Kakarotto's moment of weakness; she would be damned if she let them see the same happen to her son.

This boy might have been my son. My son...

Isaka, true to his Saiyajin pride, ignored the knot in his stomach and the sting in his eyes as he combined ki and sheer inhuman strength to lift his father into his arms and maneuver the cumbersome form across the room to the awaiting chamber.

Bulma followed his progress until the blue-eyed half-Saiyajin had situated his father in the tank properly so she could attach the small sensors to his chest and forehead that would monitor everything from brainwaves to heart rate to breathing patterns. All the while, she felt two sets of bewildered eyes on her back, making her want to grind her teeth in irritation. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, Bulma Brief hated more than being watched while she worked. "Both of you, get out," she called sharply over her shoulder as her already short fuse met its end. "We're not on display here!"

"Are you sure, Bulma-san? Isaka-sama?" Laresk questioned tentatively.

Isaka nodded once as he crossed his arms over his armored chest in an attempt to imitate his father's imposing demeanor. Before Serori could get the protest from her lips, Laresk took her by the arm and pulled her out of the room, making sure to set the security lock so that only those within the room could open the steel door without an override code. Laresk had been with Kakarotto's clan long enough to know when to fight and when to walk away, so he left them to themselves and instead led the baffled woman at his side to his office so that he could explain all that had taken place to the best of his knowledge.

"How long will Dad be in there?"

Bulma forced herself to look away from the small glass window through which she had been watching Kakarotto, his finely-chiseled features smoothed serenely as his hair whipped gently around his face, only to be met with an equally angelic sight when her eyes fell on his son. The invincible guise had fallen away, and now the young Saiyajin looked at Bulma with wide and expectant eyes that made him seem so young and innocent. It was a startling contrast from only minutes earlier, and Bulma wondered what the young man had seen in his life that would give him the ability to swap personas so readily and with such ease. "Well, now that we have everything set up right, it should only take about two hours and he'll be even better than before."

"Is that really true, that he'll be stronger when he gets out?" the inquisitive boy chirped out, unable to mask his anticipation at the possibility.

Bulma grinned. "That's right, kid," Bulma replied, unconsciously picking up the pet name she had used to address Gohan since their adventure on Namek.

Isaka shuffled uneasily for a moment. "How did you know?" Bulma raised an eyebrow in a silent request for clarification. The young man's brow creased in thought. "Laresk-san and Serori-san have been trying to figure out what was wrong with the tanks for a year now, but neither of them could. Yet you solved the problem in moments. How did you do that?"

"Oh boy," Bulma began softly. "That's a long story, Isaka."

"Well, we have two hours," Isaka replied eagerly. The boy shifted his weight from one foot to another, the fingers of one hand capturing the digits of the other in nervous patterns. "I - I would really like to hear about you - about your time," he admitted shyly. "Please, Bulma-san?"

There was no way she could refuse such a heartfelt request from the young warrior, so she closed her eyes as she let the memory come back. "I knew what to do because I had the same problem the first time Go - Kakarotto tried to use a regen tank after he became a Super Saiyajin in my time. The increase in power caused chemical and physiological changes that not only made him stronger and raised his body's ability to withstand attack, but it also made him almost immune to the old formula we were using in the machines to heal him when he did get hurt."

Isaka's mouth was hanging open and the fiery cerulean eyes were impossibly wide. "You mean... that transformation... My father was a Super Saiyajin?"

"You didn't know?" Bulma spluttered out in mirrored shock.

Isaka shook his head. "I've heard of the legend, of course," he explained quickly, "but the information that we collected from the Saiyajin scouters stated that the last known Super Saiyajin could only hold that form under the full moon when he was oozaru." Isaka bit his lip thoughtfully, an action Bulma was quick to realize he had picked up from his mother. It was a habit she herself had indulged most of her life. "I suppose that would explain why he cannot control the power when it happens."

"Not really," Bulma contradicted with a shake of her head. "I mean, everyone who's become a Super Saiyajin where I come from never had any problem with it. As a matter of fact, one of them went a level beyond that."

"Was it my father?"

Bulma shook her head. "It was his son, Gohan. That kid's always been a firecracker," Bulma related fondly.

Isaka frowned slightly. "His son," the boy repeated softly. "But not yours?"

"No. In my time, Kakarotto was married to someone else." She noticed the boy's face drop, and she moved to lay a hand on his shoulder. "But he's been my best friend since I was a kid," she added with a smile.

"Oh." Isaka seemed to brighten a bit. "How old is his son? Gohan, right?"

"Yeah. Gohan turned twelve a few months back."

Once again, the boy's jaw fell open in unabashed astonishment. "And he's stronger than even a Super Saiyajin?"

"Well, he is when he needs to be," Bulma agreed softly, unable to make mention of Gohan's power without remembering the circumstances behind its awakening. She quickly forced the crushing grief to the back of her mind; Goku wouldn't want her to feel any resentment or regret with regard to the young man that had been his pride and joy throughout his life. Besides, I love that kid like he was one of my own.

One of my own... Bulma chuckled softly to herself. Good Lord, how many does that make now? Gohan, Trunks, and the baby makes three. Four, if I count Isaka...

"So there are two Super Saiyajins," Isaka murmured to himself in awe. "Wow!"

Bulma pushed her own musing aside. "No, in my time, there were four of them. Besides Go - damn it! -Kakarotto and Gohan, my son, Trunks, and his father are also Super Saiyajins."

Isaka took several moments to process the implications of that statement before braving another question. "Who is the other full-blooded Saiyajin?"

"That would be Vegeta," Bulma answered with a soft smirk. Annoying as he was, she had to admit that she had begun to miss their verbal sparring just a little...

"What?!" the boy cried out, blue eyes bulging. "The Saiyajin Prince is alive in your time? And... and he's a Super Saiyajin?"

"You know Vegeta?" she asked curiously.

Isaka swallowed hard as he shook his head. "No. In this time, he and a Saiyajin called Nappa came to Earth to challenge my father and purge the planet for that madman, Frieza. He destroyed several cities and killed a lot of people, including my uncle, before Dad was able to stop him."

It was Bulma's turn to gape. "Are you talking about Radditz?"

"Yeah."

"Oh wow," Bulma moaned as she ran a hand through her aqua tresses. "Kakarotto, Radditz, Nappa, Frieza... this is getting confusing."

Isaka nodded in agreement. "It's strange that both timelines seem to have many of the same people, and yet the events have played out so differently."

"You got that right." Bulma gave a surrendering sigh.. "Maybe we should forget all that and focus on your father and making sure what happened today doesn't happen again. What d'ya say?"

"Okay!" the boy agreed. "Now that Frieza is coming to Earth, Dad going to have to find a way to remain in control of his emotions. It won't be easy, though," Isaka noted worriedly as his gaze wavered and dropped to the floor. "My father hasn't been the same since..."

Bulma nodded once that she understood. One small portion of the conversation she had overheard earlier that evening between father, son, and closest family advisor played again through her mind -

The boy burst through the doors of his father's room and looked around, his brow knitted deeply in concentration. Scarcely a second later, azure eyes lit up like a torch. "Mom!" the boy cried out before his father's hand stopped him from running to the other room.

"Stop!" Kakarotto commanded sternly.

"But...but Dad..."

"It's not her," Kakarotto stated flatly.

Isaka's eyes narrowed. "It has to be! Laresk-san said himself that she was Bulma Brief. He did the tests!" The boy looked to the trembling, wraithlike scientist for confirmation, but received nothing but blank confusion instead.

"Damn it, boy!" Kakarotto spat impatiently, once again earning the youth's attention.. "Do you think I would not recognize my own mate?" The Saiyajin lifted orbs of endless midnight heavenward and let out a long breath. "Our Bulma is dead, Isaka..."

"Since your mother died," Bulma finished for him. He nodded as he swallowed again, dropping his gaze so she wouldn't see his eyes shining just a little more than they should have been.

A thick silence descended between Bulma and Isaka as both tried to figure out what would be the right thing to say after the ominous observation. Bulma wanted to ask about the woman, the mother, that he had known in this timeline, and Isaka simply wanted to keep talking, yet both were afraid to add to or take away from their conversation. So far, it had been comforting for them both, each using the other's company to soothe something that had been missing in themselves. Isaka walked over to the same medical bed Kakarotto had laid on less than an hour earlier and sat down on the edge of it to keep from fidgeting like some helpless brat in front of the woman.

"What... what happened to her?" Bulma braved finally, unable to reign in her curiosity. "You don't have to tell me if it's too painful," she added quickly when she saw the grief morph Isaka's childlike countenance into something much harsher she couldn't readily place on one so young; it was an expression much more fitting for someone like Vegeta.

"My mother was off-world when it happened," Isaka began softly as his eyes glazed slightly over with remembrance. "Dad had been opposed to the idea of her going on the expedition to Hygra from the beginning, but she insisted. She told him that if he was willing to risk sending her team, then it was worth sending her as well. She refused to be treated as though her life was more important than theirs, and she also had the most experience with the technology they were being sent to repair. Still, my father was adamant that she remain here, and they argued for days about it. Mom even slept in the spare bedroom one night." A small smile graced the youth's handsome features.

Yeah, that's definitely something I would do. Bulma returned the minute grin with one of her own.

"Unfortunately, my father was never able to deny my mother anything that she really wanted, so he finally allowed her to lead the team, even though... he feared that something would happen."

"He knew?"

Isaka shrugged lightly. "He had no knowledge that would give him reason to worry, but I could feel his apprehension as we watched the ship take off. He tried to act as if that was not so, but I could sense it, and so could Mom. Still, the team made it to the planet without any problems, which eased all of our concerns somewhat. Besides, none of our intelligence reports gave any indication that the planet Hygra would be a target for Frieza since it is relatively worthless in terms of landscape and resources. The population of the planet is small, and the Hygrajins are used to the harsh conditions of their world where another race of people would die if they tried to populate it."

Isaka paused while Bulma, despite her confusion over the political mechanics of the situation he described, focused on the story the boy was relating to her. She would definitely have to remember to get Kakarotto to explain the way things worked around here when he woke up.

"It was two weeks later that the first report came in," Isaka continued, his young voice straining slightly. "Apparently Frieza found something of interest in the planet, after all. They began tracking his ship's approach three days before it arrived. Dad immediately insisted that the entire team leave, but once again, my mother refused. They had not completed their work on Hygra's planetary defense shield or their communication equipment. Mom knew if they left then, the planet would be completely unable to defend itself. The inhabitants are strong on that planet, but not so much so that they could fend off Frieza if the need arose."

"Did Frieza destroy the planet?" Bulma questioned tentatively.

"No," Isaka growled. "As soon as he arrived, he sent out several of his men to destroy cities and cause general mayhem while he searched for my father's scientific team. Apparently Frieza felt he had a score to settle," the boy hissed through clenched teeth, "so when he found out the location of the science station..."

Bulma sighed softly. "I see."

"I was doing my lessons when it happened," the boy whispered softly as the first glittering gem slid down his cheek. "My chest suddenly felt like someone had fired a ki blast at me. I... I didn't know what was wrong... until I heard Dad scream." The boy stopped and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight back the rest of the tears that threatened to stream defiantly from his eyes.

Bulma stiffened instinctively as the young man began to crumble in front of her. The motherly instinct took over, and Bulma closed the distance between her and her alternate son to sit beside him and wrap an arm around his quivering shoulder. He sniffled several times, but remained taut and unyielding to her show of comfort.

"I... I promised my dad that I wouldn't cry again," he mumbled sorrowfully as he lifted his gaze to hers pleadingly, "but..."

Bulma smiled understandingly. "I know," she acknowledged gently, silently admiring the boy's resolve while her heart ached with the knowledge that he felt he had to shoulder such a heavy burden alone. "But I'll make you a deal," she went on in her best conspiratorial tone in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I won't tell if you won't. Deal?" She lifted her arm from around his shoulder and offered her hand to him.

Isaka nodded once before taking it into his own, grinning against the tears that ran down his cheeks. "It's a deal. Thank you, Bulma-san."

"Don't thank me," Bulma replied as she released the handshake and pulled Isaka into the crook of her arm. This time the youth didn't resist the embrace, but leaned heavily against her, and Bulma looked down in time to see the boy yawn and rub his eyes, reminding her that it was extremely late. Despite his near adult maturity, Isaka was still a child and more than likely was not used to being up at this hour. She glanced over to the electronic display on the regen tank. One more hour - plenty of time for a little nap.

Isaka sat up again as Bulma shifted and looked on as she adjusted the top of the bed into a semi-upright position before maneuvering herself so that she was laying along the length of it. "C'mon, kid. Let's rest for a few minutes," she offered with a quirk of her head. "We're both exhausted."

Isaka bit the inside of his lip indecisively before finally clambering up to lay next to her. He rested his head on her shoulder while she wrapped him in a protective hold and stroked comfortingly at his unruly raven mane, and within moments, both were fast asleep.

Vegeta cursed under his breath as energy-electrified wind blew across his face and through his upswept ebony hair. First the little blue man told him that he would explain the shift in Kakarotto's attitude, then he had stopped and asked him to speak with the younger full-blooded Saiyajin himself. He had grudgingly agreed, but now the baka was refusing to say anything until they got back to the barren platform in the sky as if there was nothing wrong with testing the patience of the Saiyajin no Ouji.

Fucking insolent bastard.

From his lead spot a few feet away, Goku grinned as he flew towards their destination. He could feel the anger of the diminutive prince rolling off of him in waves to openly oppose their otherwise tranquil surroundings. He didn't mean to laugh at the man, but the fact that the older Saiyajin was unnerved only proved to Goku that Vegeta was indeed quite anxious to get some answers, even if his colossal pride would not allow him to admit it. Goku turned to cast a glance at the perturbed prince over his shoulder.

Patience, my prince. You'll thank me later.

Several minutes later, Goku touched down on the smooth gray surface, followed closely by a now fuming Vegeta. Deciding that holding the irate Saiyajin off any longer would probably be detrimental to what he wanted to accomplish, Goku went to the center of the platform and sat down while he motioned for Vegeta to do the same in front of him.

Vegeta eyed the man for several moments before settling himself down gracefully so that he was face to face with Goku with only inches between the knees of their crossed legs.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier," Goku began in an attempt to ward off a portion of the man's ill-temper. For this to work, Vegeta would need to be calm and as relaxed as was possible for the smaller warrior. "I meant you no disrespect. I just..." Goku let the statement hang, unsure of how to put into words what was happening to him despite his promise to do just that.

Vegeta studied Goku for a while, looking for any traces of falsehood. Finding none, Vegeta rolled his eyes and snorted sarcastically. "Dummy, you acted like a Saiyajin. Don't ruin it with mindless nonsense."

"Right," Goku agreed with a small nod. He knew the harsh reply was the prince's way of accepting his apology without looking like he was going soft, and Goku was more than willing to take that. Goku had no intention of competing against the man's prideful nature; some battles held no hope of victory, and that was definitely one of them.

Goku opted instead to consider his next course of action. A great deal of what he thought and felt these days was a bit of a mystery to even himself, and he secretly held a small hope that the one in front of him could answer some questions that no one else, not even the other Saiyajins he had dealt with down below, had been able to answer. None of the others had been part of both worlds as Vegeta had, and no other had ever been forced to integrate Saiyajin instinct and Earthling environment.

Vegeta watched his rival carefully during the lengthy silence. It was interesting indeed to see such an array of emotions cross the man's normally carefree features, and the display served to deepen Vegeta's growing curiosity into Kakarotto's surprising metamorphosis from happy-go-lucky idiot to... what?

"Do you know how to perform a mind touch?"

Vegeta balked in unabashed astonishment before he could stop himself. Of course he knew how to do it; all Saiyajins on Vegeta-sei had been taught the ancient use of their naturally-occurring telepathy, but it was something that was frowned upon unless someone's life was at an end. Even then, to say it was something done rarely was a vast understatement. On their homeworld, it was widely believed that the only person who should be allowed such access to another's mind was one's mate, and that happened naturally once a pair bonded. The practice of a mind touch was different, as it was a one-way link that allowed one Saiyajin to go into another's unguarded thoughts and memories. During a session, the seeker could watch an event as though it was actually happening to them, feeling everything both physically and emotionally that resulted during and after the experience. The most common use of the technique, Vegeta remembered, occurred in the royal family. The Saiyajin King would pass on his vast library of knowledge and experience to his royal descendant before he died and left the throne to his heir, therefore helping to ensure the continued survival of their people with a leader wise beyond his years.

Vegeta quickly went through a mental inventory of everything he'd ever told the Earth-raised warrior about their shared heritage, though he already knew without a doubt he'd never once spoken of the art to the man. In truth, though Vegeta had been trained to do it, he had never had occasion to while under Frieza's stewardship. Not that he would have done it anyway. He had never felt any desire to get inside the heads of those he worked with while under the Icejin since they were all nothing more than sadistic madmen with absolutely no brains to speak of. Once his birthright had been blasted into millions of chunks of space rock, Vegeta had pretty much forgotten about the practice, pushing it to the very back of his mind along with anything else he deemed useless in regard to his survival.

Hearing the innocent question fall from the lips of the gentle giant in front of him was extremely unnerving. "How the hell do you know about that, Kakarotto?"

"I'm not sure," Goku admitted with a shrug. "There's a lot of stuff in my head right now that I don't understand. That's why I need you to have a look and see if you can make sense of some of it."

"What?" Did the third-class moron have any idea what he was asking? What he was offering? "You can't be serious!" Vegeta exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. "You... you... you don't just ask anyone to go for a stroll through your mind, Kakarotto!"

Goku's brow creased slightly as he looked up to the flabbergasted Saiyajin. "I'm not asking just anyone, Vegeta. I'm asking you."

There was no comeback that would do justice to that statement. Vegeta was speechless and froze like a statue.

"I didn't come to this decision lightly, Vegeta, but I've tried everything else," Goku explained quickly. "I even went down to hell in hopes that I would find someone that would tell me what all of these new thoughts and feelings mean, but there were only two down there that were allowed to retain their bodies and their memories. I talked to both of them at length, but there's still a lot they couldn't understand because I'm from Earth, and I'm a Super Saiyajin to boot."

"Do you realize that if you allow me into your mind, I could do irreparable damage if I chose to? You would once again be opening yourself up to attack?"

Goku nodded. "I was told as much by the Saiyajins I spoke with."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't trust the word of most of our people, Kakarotto." Vegeta scowled slightly as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Our race was known for its strength, not its intellect."

"I trust what I was told by these two," Goku stated softly. "Both of them were known to be the among the most honorable of the Saiyajin. Besides, you yourself once told me my father was smart."

"Bardock?" Vegeta asked in surprise.

Goku nodded once, never letting his eyes move from the man above him.

Vegeta suddenly felt light-headed as tingly tendrils of dread raced through the pit of his stomach and up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Goku had spoken to two Saiyajins since his death. One had been the father he never met in life, and Vegeta had a sneaky suspicion, considering the expectant trepidation written across the other's face, that he knew who the other one was.

Goku answered the unspoken question in Vegeta's obsidian gaze. "The other Saiyajin I talked to was the Saiyajin King."

"You spoke with my father?" Vegeta asked flatly, his face back to its normal unreadable expression.

Goku nodded once again as he waited patiently for the information to register in the mind of the ouji.

Vegeta was lost among waves of alternating emotions - shock, envy, rage, disappointment, longing... The son of a bitch had actually talked to his father, his king, the man who was Vegeta's childhood mentor before Frieza had snatched him away. How many times had Vegeta cried out to his dead father in his life? How many times had he begged for the man's guidance? How many times had he cursed the man for leaving him to fend for himself, for lying to him about his strength, his birthright? And now... now this simpleton, this low-class bastard had again stolen something from Vegeta. He had spoken to the man. Kakarotto had managed to actually have a conversation with his father!

Goku knew Vegeta was in turmoil over the revelation, so he did the only thing he could think to. "We talked about you," Goku piped up, intruding on Vegeta's silent tirade and stopping the man cold.

Vegeta swallowed several times against the sudden tightness in his throat, his anger all but forgotten. "What... what did he say?"

"See for yourself." Goku motioned for Vegeta to sit with him once again and smiled knowingly. "Then we'll talk about me, okay?"

It was an offer Vegeta could not refuse.

End Chapter Six