Vegeta traveled for days, brooding about where to go, what to do, whether he really wanted to commit suicide. He circled two things like a vulture over carrion. The first was that a small, ridiculous shred of his soul wondered if the woman might bring the child to term, that he might at least see his child once they were grown, if not before. Vegeta tried to imagine what their child would look like and his throat ached and tightened, sending him spiraling into tears. A child with the woman's brilliance and beauty, Vegeta's strength and Saiyan senses. The child would be a marvel, outclassing Kakarot's brat in no time.
The second decaying bit of potential that the vulture of Vegeta's will to live circled was Kakarot himself. Vegeta had vowed to kill him. And the thought still very much appealed, if for no other reason than that a good bout of killing might make Vegeta feel better. Vegeta was used to bloodshed and rampaging as forms of therapy to deal with his own malignancy. He trained in the ship, but made no real progress. Which meant he couldn't beat the clown, not as he was now, at least.
Ultimately that thought, that he hadn't surpassed that jovial idiot, was what kept Vegeta grudgingly attached to his mortal coil. He set course for a terrible planet where a purge had gone wrong. The natives, deciding to die on their own terms, had salted the fields and burned the crops, so to speak, killing not just themselves, but destroying life on their entire planet and setting off a cataclysmic climate and volcanic cycle. The toxic gasses set off a chain reaction that steadily ate away the atmosphere until it was hammered constantly by meteors and cosmic radiation.
The planet was death. There were bizarre mats of bacteria that Vegeta knew from unfortunate experience could sustain a Saiyan, so the self-flagellation would be all-encompassing. There was water underground, though it had an awful taste to it. It would be perfect. That much physical suffering would surely drown out his emotional suffering. Physical suffering was Vegeta's go-to method of problem solving, his or others, it rarely mattered.
It was a near thing, landing the ship. He considered crashing it just to seal his fate, but Vegeta was always weak when it came to permanence. Instead, he found a sort of cosmic harbor to make berth. He thought it would shelter the ship enough that he could possibly leave if he ever achieved enough strength to go and murder Kakarot.
Vegeta trained for a few months in relentless conditions. There was no safety or rest for him. No reason to return to the ship either, as he still couldn't achieve the transformation that the clown had managed through sheer…friendship…or whatever it was that motivated him. Vegeta hated that he still wept frequently when he thought about the woman's anger that he had bred her.
In retrospect, everything he had done seemed so foolish. It never occurred to him that she'd only been with him for his sexual skills because of the sleeping, the cuddling, the meals together. Trips to the library. Banter when she worked on the gravity room. Now he could see that it was all to allay her sense of being a "slut" or whatever foolish nonsense about sexual activity made her treat it simultaneously as magical and dirty.
Unfortunately, it all felt like love to Vegeta. But Vegeta had always been a fool about that sort of thing. Only delusion let him believe that she might want him as her protector, their child's protector, and he hadn't even realized that it had been delusion on top of delusion. She didn't want his child at all. Just his prick. His tongue. His ass, he thought with a little smirk, but it quickly turned to tears that he'd let her have him that way too. He'd given her everything, thinking it might get him even respect, a bit of affection…he never really dared to hope she would love him. Not really.
He thought of Raditz often too. Of what he had done. Of how awful it felt to reveal his actions to the woman. About how flippant she had been about his crimes against the only person he had ever loved until her. Until she cracked Vegeta open, he really had suppressed everything about Raditz. Now the memories were everywhere, spilling out all over his mind, triggered by anything and everything. Vegeta's heart ached that he had exhumed those memories for anything less than love.
Vegeta lost track of time. Some days were a blur of survival. Others, when the meteor storms were lighter, were emotional survival battered by a barrage of memories—the woman, Raditz, his early life, the horrible things he had done with glee—Vegeta loathed memory. It was treacherous and hateful. The void began to call to Vegeta again. Radiation and blows from jagged space rock Vegeta could handle, relish, even, but recalling the woman's smile, her touch, the way she moaned for him…Those things were killing him. A slow death. A miserable death. A weak one.
After another tedious day with little to do but survive physically, Vegeta decided the void was the best option. Even if the craft couldn't make it to interstellar space, it could certainly get him far enough from this planet that when he let himself out of the airlock, he wouldn't have enough chi or oxygen to get him through the atmosphere. Space was enormous, even in a star system. There would be nowhere to go. He could program the airlock to close after he went out as a failsafe against his perpetual weakness.
He trudged to the ship on foot, a final walk. A march to the gallows. He had tied his own noose, of course, but it didn't make the drop any less terrifying. Inside the ship, as he started up the various systems and checked them, a big green light flashed by the com screen. He pressed the button underneath it.
The screen came to life, a little distorted here and there, but it was the woman. She shifted, obviously using the camera in her little phone that she used in lieu of a scouter. And she wasn't alone.
"Vegeta…" the woman began, and swiped away a tear before continuing, "I…I don't know where you are, since you disabled the tracker on the ship, but…I hope you didn't do anything rash or stupid. Or both. I…this is your son. This is Trunks."
In her arm, pressed to her breast, was a perfect baby boy. He had a little tuft of lavender hair. His tiny, perfect hand kneaded against her skin. His tiny, perfect feet, at the end of chubby, strong legs, kicked as he ate. Vegeta could hear him guzzling and see the shell of his tiny, perfect ear. The woman brushed away a few more tears before she spoke again. "He's…he's a month old now. I…when he was first born I didn't know if I wanted you to know. You just…you just abandoned me. I can't believe you just left me after knocking me up.
"I keep thinking about the stuff you said. I was so angry, Vegeta. And scared. And surprised as fuck. I don't think you understand, but I thought of birth control as infallible. I didn't even realize I was pregnant for so long because I just didn't consider it.
"You…the things you said, once I'd calmed down…I see…I see now how we both took for granted our cultures, and our ways of communicating are just so different sometimes. But I forget that because I always feel…at home…with you. You're an asshole and you're surly and most of the time I have no idea what you're freaking out about, but I…I just like you a lot, despite all that. I care about you. And I wanted you to know that.
"I'm sorry I hurt you with what I said. I see now that you didn't mean to hurt me and now that I have him, I can't imagine life without little Trunks. He's just perfect. And I wanted you to at least know. I wanted you to know you have a son. A perfect son. And he's already strong, Vegeta. Just like his daddy."
The woman cried into her hand and Trunks sat up, finished eating. Vegeta caught a glimpse of her breast, her nipple, even more beautiful now put to use to feed his child, and he reached out and caressed her face on the screen. Trunks's eyes opened as he yawned and burped. They were blue like the woman's, but intense like Vegeta's. The baby seemed like it could see Vegeta.
She spoke again, "You don't have to respond to this. I don't know what else to say. I didn't mean to hurt you. And I'm glad you opened up to me, Vegeta, if only because I think that's the only way you'll ever feel better about Raditz. I miss you. I hope you're okay."
The recording ended, Trunks lunging for the camera as she clicked it off. Vegeta stared for a long moment, then played it again and again and again. He had left in a fit of hurt and rage and self-loathing and she had born his child anyway. He abandoned her and she still chose to bear his son. Vegeta's stomach twisted and ached and he tried to decipher what to feel about anything.
An awful realization hit him. The androids. The androids would be there to destroy everything. An everything that included the woman and his son. Obviously she didn't want him because she didn't ask him to come home. She knew he would be a shit father. She didn't want him as a protector because he had abandoned her, but he didn't have to kill her as he had killed Raditz. He didn't have to murder her and his son in a fit of pique like he did with Raditz. He could do better.
Except that he was weak. Powerless. Kakarot would save them. Or would he? The future boy came back to save Kakarot, but if Vegeta, Piccolo, and Gohan had been unable to defeat the androids, who was to say that Kakarot alone could do it?
Vegeta went back out to train. To think. Vegeta imagined the woman and his son in a fiery wasteland made by machines. The more he thought about it, the more he raged. The more he considered, the more he realized he didn't care if the woman wanted him as a protector. Vegeta-sei was gone. All Saiyans except himself and Kakarot were gone. And now his son. Who, if he survived, might outclass that whiny little shit Kakarot had spawned. Vegeta roared thinking of the woman dying before he could get back. He screamed thinking of losing his son that the woman had decided to keep.
Vegeta's chi spiked and he let every ounce of his self-loathing and hatred and regret pour into the desire to save her. To save his son. To be better than that fucking clown. Something inside him broke, but it was a breaking open, not a shattering, and it flooded him with power. He bellowed and felt himself transform. He almost couldn't believe it so he blasted some of the sandy soil with enough heat to make glass. There, reflected by his own light, was Vegeta, super Saiyan Vegeta. At last. And for once in his fucking life, he had a chance to remedy his mistake. He could go back and save the worthless mud ball because the woman loved it. He could prove to Kakarot that he, Vegeta, the Prince of All Saiyans, was the strongest warrior in the universe. He could meet his son with something besides shame shining in his eyes.
Unless there wasn't enough time. Vegeta had wandered for some time before he settled on this shit-show of a planet. What if it took him too long to get home? Home. Was that how he thought of Earth? Or just the woman?
He bolted back to the ship, fired everything up again. He used the navigation system to chart a course for home. He scanned through the computer, trying to calculate not just the time to get to Earth, but when it was on Earth right now.
"Fuck it, I might as well head that direction in case I can make it," Vegeta muttered to himself and slammed the throttle forward. The ship lurched into the air, the spongy surface of the planet hindering a clean take-off. There was a harried moment of Vegeta trying to balance all the thrusters when he thought he would crash, because of course there was also a terrible meteor storm.
When he cleared the meager atmosphere, he didn't have much time to feel relief in the barrage of space rock, but also because the timing just finished calculating: he would make it to Earth on the day the androids arrived. He would need to be ready. He needed to go in swinging. Defeating them was his only chance for redemption. Not with the woman, because he assumed that was gone, but for himself. To be able to live with himself. To be able to live at all.
Vegeta showered and changed into a fresh uniform, tugged on unmarred armor. He was hours from Earth. Vegeta had never felt this way going into battle. He had never felt…nervous. He had been terrified. He had been enraged. He had been tired or bored or antsy. But never nervous for anything but his own wellbeing like a fucking coward. It was almost refreshing to care more about someone else than himself. Or it would be if he had confidence that he could keep them safe.
As the ship broke the atmosphere of Earth, Vegeta transformed. He could do it with control now, and over the course of his journey, he had learned to wield it fairly effectively. The ship slammed into the desert and Vegeta stepped out, shocked by the smell of clean air, the feel of good sunshine, and a whiff of fresh water.
He didn't revel in the relatively pleasant atmosphere of Earth for long because he sensed the clown's chi declining rapidly. Piccolo was fighting now. He wasn't about to let anyone else kill that stupid fucking Kakarot. Vegeta launched in the direction of the pathetic defenders of Earth. The androids he couldn't sense, and that was worrisome.
Vegeta slammed into the only bigger clown than Kakarot. This was one of the fearsome, Earth-massacring androids? Vegeta snorted. It was satisfying to tear apart the clownish one, to hear it squeal. But then the other one bolted, Vegeta needed him to bolt, but still. The lack of chi was a liability.
The stupid Earth fighters gave him one of their ridiculous magic beans and he took off. Until the damned powerful Saiyan from the future returned. Trunks. They called him Trunks. Everything fell into place for him. That fucking idiot Kakarot had known. He had known that Vegeta would fall dick first into Bulma and have a son. A phenomenally powerful, super Saiyan, cut-Frieza-up-like-cheese son.
But the boy was saying these weren't the androids.
It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Vegeta that he had overestimated his strength again. At this point it was basically guaranteed that if he thought he could beat the shit out of someone, they would kick his ass and humiliate him. It also shouldn't have surprised him when he let the woman and his baby almost die thanks to his own petulant anger. He saw her and his son and thought back to the things she had said to him. She and her nosiness were the reason he had spent the better part of a year feeling things. Remembering things. Rage burned through his veins, leaving a trail of shame like ash, and he fled.
The boy confronted him, and Vegeta's bitterness and pride won the day again. It was like watching himself from the outside once his hubris took over. He could rationally, logically tell himself that he was being a complete prat, but then his mouth opened and all that spilled out was maniacal laughter followed by a dense pile of stupid. It was maddening to be so fucking predictable. Predictably idiotic. And he called the clown an idiot. Two Saiyan peas in an idiotic pod.
So the pretty blond android put Vegeta in his place. Just as Frieza had his whole life. Kakarot after that. Now a glorified fucking toaster. Vegeta felt some bubbling mix of laughter and tears in his throat as he laid, semi-conscious in a sad soup of his just desserts. The future version of his son tried to help him. The Namek tried to help him. But Vegeta wished he'd simply stepped out of that airlock. Foolish to believe he could protect anyone when he couldn't even protect himself. Vegeta wondered if there was anything in his life that wasn't a mistake. He felt the boy's power, his son, and decided there was one thing. And even that one good thing was so thoroughly buffered by shame, Vegeta couldn't take any solace in it.
By the time it was all over, what Vegeta wanted was to die. It was what he'd wanted after his first defeat. But he picked himself up out of a sheer desire to not let anyone see him die. The same way a cat would drag itself somewhere private to die, Vegeta wanted to die unobserved. The Namek, the closest thing Vegeta had ever had to a friend, offered assistance, as Vegeta was badly injured, but he skulked back to his ship after being a complete fucking asshole again. It just came so naturally to him. His one talent: assholery.
He licked his wounds, but didn't go to space again. He healed slowly and rolled his options over in his mind again and again. He remembered something else the woman had said to him: he was welcome there. Forever, if he wished. She had said that before he'd ever put a hand on her. Before she'd even seen his cock. Was it possible that she still harbored such generosity after he had abandoned her? After he'd failed to protect her and their son—maliciously failed, failed deliberately? Vegeta didn't know. He had never in his life asked for forgiveness. And that wasn't what he wanted exactly, because he knew he didn't deserve it. Maybe she would grant him clemency. Allow him to live out his days in proximity to his son, if not as the boy's father and protector, perhaps as his trainer.
Vegeta stewed about it for several weeks, living off the significantly more delightful game and plants of Earth. He suspected she would be merciful. She always was. The way she swallowed his betrayal of Raditz without a ghost of a gag was incredible, but this was a different matter. He'd nearly let her and her offspring die. No, perhaps she wouldn't allow him back.
She couldn't even set the clown on him if he decided to stay. So it was't as if she could make him go. But he wanted her to want him to stay. And that was impossible. Mercy and forgiveness like that didn't exist.
He would go. It wasn't even fair to ask the woman if he could stay, because she might let him stay out of the boundless compassion she seemed to have at her disposal, but Vegeta would make her miserable. He would leave her in peace. She was brilliant and had friends who would help her with the boy. He would fair better as a human anyway. He'd already seen that the boy had no tail.
But before he left, he wanted to meet his son in secret and bid the boy hello and farewell. He cleaned himself up. He tried to purge all his prickly tendency to justify his shitty behavior in case the woman caught him. The boy wouldn't remember Vegeta visiting him, but Vegeta would remember. He would cling to that memory to the last. He wanted to smell his son, to hold him, and then to let him go, let him have a good life. A peaceful life. Thanks to the clown and the clown's son. No thanks to Vegeta. All Vegeta had done was get his son killed. Typical, toxic Vegeta.
He tapped down outside the boy's nursery, slipped inside, silent as the assassin he could be. The boy slept humped up in a little pile, his butt in the air, his face squished on its side. Vegeta smiled, despite the tears that pooled in his eyes. He had Vegeta's eyebrows. Vegeta's scowl.
He slid a hand under the boy, who draped over it like a relaxed house cat. He cradled the baby against his chest. He hadn't even worn armor, wanting this moment, the sensation of such a tiny creature, delicate and vulnerable and his against his body. "Look at you. You sleep like your mother, like you haven't a care in the world. And I hope you never do, boy. Not a one."
Vegeta buried his nose in the little tuft of purple hair. He breathed deep and snuffled all over his son's scalp. "Don't ever tell her I said this, but I think you smell better than anything in the universe, better than your mother even. I wish…I wish I was more than good genes for you," Vegeta whispered into the sweet smell of his progeny. At least he would leave this behind, the only good thing. And that was worth a lot. Tears dripped down onto the tiny head.
The boy grumbled, but then nestled back in against Vegeta's chest. "I'm a fool for leaving. She was the best thing that ever happened to me, even if she didn't want me or you. I wouldn't change that because you're perfect. You're better off without me. I almost got you killed because I was so…so sad. So angry. At myself, I think, more than anything. I…I dreamed I would come home and be her hero and she would forgive all my sins against her, take me back without question, without apology. Instead I was a shit. A coward. A failure."
A hybrid of a chuckle and a sob came out of him. Vegeta knew he couldn't be a good father. It wasn't in him. He didn't know how, except the Saiyan way. He thought he could be a good Saiyan father, but everything Saiyan he had tried had been a failure on Earth. More snotty laughter escaped him thinking about the taboo against men crying, yet here he was bawling more than his own baby.
"I almost got the future version of you killed too—lucky that the clown's idiot friends had their magic beans. At least I don't have to worry about him being your protector. And perhaps with the androids gone and Earth being full of weaklings, perhaps you'll be your mother's protector. She'll protect you through your early years, I'm certain of that. The woman makes up in ferocity what she lacks in strength, so I would tread lightly around her if I were you."
"You slandering me already, Vegeta?" the woman said.
Vegeta's head snapped up, as he frantically swiped at his tears. He felt a fool for not noticing her chi approach. This was the opposite of what he wanted. Vegeta saw her beautiful blue eyes in the dim moonlight and swallowed hard. What to say to her? How to ask forgiveness for the unforgivable? It was better to just go. He stared in silence, wishing he had a few more minutes with his son. Wishing he could have had minutes with her while she slept, to touch her hair, to smell her a last time. To kiss her lips softly, and disappear forever.
Buy My Membership and enjoy early access to exclusive content at patreon.com/LoneWolf69