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Atavism	By : ctsama Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 9194 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, Dragonball Z, Dragonball Super, Resurrection 'F', or Battle of Gods or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Uncharted Waters

Vegeta needed some distraction so he flew to his hidden home instead of using Instant Transmission. He used the time to put some of his new skills into practice while he knew Goku was still sleeping.

He didn’t want any company, he would need all the privacy he could get. Containing his ki got easier the more he practised, and he needed the skill now more than ever. No one could know what he was up to yet, it would cause far too many problems. That meant staying hidden from both view and ki sense.

He landed on the roof of the house and descended the stairway inside, glad he had harassed the woman into adding a large second floor bedroom balcony and a rooftop widow’s walk. Ground level doors could be a pain in the ass when you could fly. He had set up the house in secret and it was fully stocked and ready. The countryside was peaceful and private, and a mid-sized town lay a short flight away.

He thought about food but strangely he was too tired to make the effort to go the kitchen and ready a meal. He turned into his bedroom and flopped backward onto the bed, wincing as he did so. Between the fight and Goku’s tender mercies he was incredibly sore. Curious, he put hand on his stomach and closed his eyes, turning his senses inward to see if he could feel the life inside of him yet. His eyes flew open in shock.

Lives. Plural.

There were two children. His brow knitted in confusion. Saiyans didn’t give birth to more than one child at a time, it was unheard of. A woman couldn’t fight while too heavily pregnant after all. He felt again and yes, two separate energies were present within him.

“I’m throwing a litter?!” he asked no one in particular.

Back when he thought he’d be having one child at a time he’d intended to have two back to back without a break to provide them with a friend and rival close in age. It had seemed to do wonders for him and Goku, as well as for Goten and Trunks. The competition in both cases led them to achieve exponential growth.

Two at once was even better. It was good, if unbelievably surprising news.
____________________________________________________________________________
Almost immediately Vegeta started eating ridiculous amounts of food, even by Saiyan standards. Going into town to stock the kitchen became so annoying he finally just made a deal with the grocery store to make bi-weekly deliveries to his home so he wouldn’t have to leave.

It had been an irritating conversation. The store owner had balked at his request. It would seem he lived too far away and it wasn’t a service they offered and blah, blah, fucking blah.

Sometimes he missed being the bad guy. Back when he was a bad guy he didn’t have to have conversations to get what he wanted.

But instead of resorting to violence or the threat thereof, he’d resorted to a gift the Briefs’ had given him on the day of their grandson’s first birthday. To make his life on Earth a little less stressful, they’d said. Apparently they’d given up on ever having a grandchild and Vegeta had made a dream come true for them.

The man’s excuses tapered off as Vegeta pulled the card from his back pocket. He waved it in front of the piggy little man’s face, smiling as his beady little eyes followed it wordlessly for a moment.

“Is… is that a…”

“...Corporate Adamantium Card? Why yes. It is.”

“I’ve never seen one up close before...”

“Well how about this then. You take this and put this on file. You bring me whatever I want, whenever I want it, and write a nice little delivery tip for yourself for your troubles. Does that sound fair to you?”

He had literally tripped over himself trying to approve the agreement before Vegeta could change his mind. He reached for the card and Vegeta held it tighter while the man stared at him in surprise. “Just make sure you don’t get carried away. I’ll be checking the statements. You wouldn’t want me to come back and lodge… what’s the word?”

“...A complaint?”

“My foot up your ass. Yeah, that’s it.”

He released the card and the man swallowed hard before going to take the information down and Vegeta chuckled to himself. He didn’t even get the statements, they went straight to Mr. Briefs’ office. But it wouldn’t do to punish the man’s kindness with complete carelessness.

With the food and supply situation taken care of, Vegeta had time to devote to more interesting pastimes. He had spent as much time as he could training at first, but he had to slow down as the pregnancy was eating up almost every bit of energy he had. He eventually had to settle for some fairly strenuous exercise and spending most of his time in the gravity chamber at Vegeta-sei normal, ten times that of Earth. It would give the children a strength boost.

Even with the increased calorie consumption he was exhausted most of the time. That part was strange, it didn’t seem like the babies were even growing at first. The first four months he hadn’t put on any weight, and he was barely showing. His awareness of them however was almost all there after only a couple of months. Even though they were smaller than his fists he could feel their emotions - basic though they were - even what they were doing in there.

Then suddenly his belly had swelled up like a balloon in the last two months. It seemed that during the first three months the children were being fully formed, then all that remained was for them to gain mass.

Whether it was all the time he spent in training and exercise or just some property of the mutation, the children were abnormally strong in body. He could even feel their ki flaring inside him at times, usually when the boy was being especially obnoxious to his sister. Vegeta couldn’t manage it for long, but he spent as much time as he could in Super Saiyan form after he realized their strength. If they could learn what it felt like from being inside him, maybe someday the transformation would be easier for them than it had been for him.

And maybe, he thought somewhat proudly, it would keep them from being able to punch their way out of him.

Saiyan females gave birth within seven and a half months of conceiving, but approaching the end of his fifth month Vegeta didn’t know how the hell he would even make it to his seventh month without the brats exploding out of him. He estimated they were around six pounds each and they were active almost constantly and as gratifying as that was, it fucking hurt.

As he was eating his third lunch of the day, he flinched as the activity inside him increased. The boy was kicking at his sister again and Vegeta laughed. More often than not he was the one who started the fight, but she almost always finished it. Sure enough she planted her tiny foot right in his face, putting the uppity little thing in his place.

Vegeta rose from the breakfast bar, cleaned up the dishes and returned to the gravity room. He shut the door and upped the gravity, intent on getting through at least two katas before being forced to nap yet again. As he reached for position on the second form, a tearing pain lanced through him and sent him to his knees.

Once he caught his breath he realized his sweatpants were wet in the seat. Cramps began to tighten his entire abdomen and he started to panic. In theory he had almost two months to go, it was too soon for the children to be born.

But his body had a different timetable, and they were coming. He didn’t have everything in place yet, thought he had more time! He ran through everything he knew about the delivery process, and remembered that though Bulma had been actively in labor with Trunks for two hours, the saiyan usual was typically delivery within an hour of labor onset.

He wasn’t sure he would even make it five minutes, the urge to push was overwhelming. He yanked at the elastic of his sweatpants and squirmed out of them before he had to stop for a breath. He gathered himself, reached for the pile of towels he kept in the gravity room for sweat duty and that was the only preparation time his body allowed him.

Human doctors were lazy, having the mother lay down on her back to deliver. Saiyans knew better. He crouched on his knees and bunched the towel between his legs. He let himself fall forward onto his palms and gave in to his body’s demands.

Every muscle in his body went rigid, intent on forcing the first child out. The room was completely silent except for his harsh, uneven breathing for several moments. He felt his muscles tightening further and he drew in a deep breath, pushed as hard as he could and cried out as he felt something pop. The baby’s head made an appearance, and one long push later he landed softly in the fluffy pile of towels. He howled his displeasure to the room as Vegeta just stared at him in wonder for a moment.

The urge to push lessened slightly and he took the reprieve to gently wipe the squalling child clean and wrap it up in a clean soft towel, no easy task with his tail lashing about angrily. Of course the boy had edged out his sister in his desire to be first. Vegeta blinked through sweat to smile down at the angry, red-faced firstborn child of his body and couldn’t help but feel proud.

The moment was necessarily brief though. He barely had time to tie off the umbilical cord before his body started locking up again and he set the child down near him. His angry squalls got louder and Vegeta huffed at him gently. “Shut up a minute will you? I’ve gotta evict your sister.”

The second was easier. He didn’t start pushing right away but waited for that telltale bunching of his muscles. She came out less violently than her brother had, and more quietly as well. She was beautiful, they both were, with the telltale Saiyan mark of a full head of black hair. They were identical it seemed, both sporting the spiky locks of their other father, but it was longer and fell gently around their shoulders instead of completely defying gravity.

He had time to tie off the cord and cut them both with a the help of a little ki in the absence of anything sharp. He cleaned and bundled up his daughter and placed her next to her brother before the afterbirth needed to be expelled. He noted with satisfaction that both of them calmed down once they were back together.

The room was quite a mess but Vegeta was too tired to care, and the sleeping children didn’t seem to mind either. He used the last clean towel to wipe the blood and fluids off his inner thighs, then just left it on the floor. He picked up the children gently, one in each arm and trudged slowly out and up the stairs to his bedroom, grunting at the sharp, throbbing pain between his legs. He placed them carefully on the bed before curling around them and the boy started to fidget and complain in his sleep. Vegeta snorted in amusement and put him between himself and his sister. His complaints ceased immediately and Vegeta shook his head. That one was going to be a handful.

He watched them sleep as long as he could before he drifted off to the gentle sounds of their breathing.
____________________________________________________________________________
Vegeta’s dual alarm clock woke him at sunup. He expected it from the boy, but…

“You’re turning on me too?” he asked his daughter, who yelled back at him angrily in response. “Okay, okay. Let’s go eat.”

Saiyan babies could do without milk. What they needed most was protein. In ancient times mothers had alternately breast fed and pre-chewed meat before passing it on to the child.

As far as Vegeta was concerned, ancient times were gross and breasts were very nice but overrated. Thankfully biology agreed with the latter and had seen fit to spare him.

He tucked a screaming child into each arm and carried them downstairs to the kitchen. He tried putting them down on a nearby couch so he could see them and work unhindered but they did not agree to his plan, voicing their protests so loudly that he gave in and carried them, resting one against his left shoulder and one on his arm tucked against his body. “Fucking tyrants,” he murmured to them in amusement.

He lightly heated some roast beef he’d made the day before and put it in the blender. Once it was a paste-like consistency he dumped it out into a bowl and found a leftover straw from one of the rare times he ate fast food.

He started with Mr. Impatient, held him close and used the straw to dropper small amounts of the paste into his mouth. He polished off almost half the bowl before he’d sated himself, dropping off to sleep mid-smack on his last bite.

His daughter waited her turn less than graciously, but forgave him as soon as food touched her tongue. She polished off the remains of the bowl and probably would have demanded more if her round little belly hadn’t demanded sleep at the same time.

Vegeta sighed, knowing they wouldn’t be with him long. Still, he put in a call to the grocery store for an emergency run of baby supplies and meat. Once that was done he went to clean up the wreck he’d made of the gravity room.

His body was still recovering from the pregnancy and birth, and though it was his own again his energy levels were building almost painfully slowly. He thought about turning to a senzu bean, but he only had a couple of them left. Add to that the fact that they didn’t even exist on Vegeta-sei and he had no idea if they were compatible with any of this and patience became the smartest option. ‘Better safe than sorry.’
____________________________________________________________________________
After a week Vegeta decided to take them to their permanent home. Vegeta had chosen a few surrogate families that had both fit his strict requirements and were willing to raise the children the way he wanted. He looked over the list and chose the family he thought would be the best match for their personalities.

The longer he waited the more difficult it would be for the children. He was certain they were strong and healthy, their new parents would take it from there.

He gathered the sleeping children in his arms, breathing in their sweet smell one last time. He closed his eyes, focused, and blinked out. He reappeared in an open courtyard. The husband and wife he had startled smiled brightly at him once they realized what was happening and rushed over, cooing with glee at the bundles in his arms. They had been expecting one child, not two, but it was a more than welcome surprise.

Their village, settled into the deep green of a remote mountain range, was small and modern conveniences were few and far between, but the community was close knit and had a good working relationship with the nearby Buddhist monastery. The children’s new parents were highly skilled martial artists, he at ki manipulation and she in the northern wushu fighting style, and both had agreed to share their knowledge with the children.

Vegeta knew he wasn’t leaving them forever, that he would know instantly if something was wrong and could get to them as quickly as thought. Knew that he would be involved in their lives for as long as he lived. Knew that a mixture of human and Saiyan ways was the key to the new Saiyan race being stronger and less needlessly, chaotically bloodthirsty than their ancestors.

But as he handed his sleeping children over to their new parents, something inside him died a little.

Their new mother must have realized something of his pain though he didn’t think it showed. She handed the babies to her husband and sent him inside. When he was gone, she turned to Vegeta and simply put her arms around him. He was stunned, not sure what to do at first but she just stayed like that. Slowly, he lifted his hands and returned the hug. He let go after a moment, returning her gentle smile. He closed his eyes and reappeared in his living room.

Round one was over, and had gone well. Things were going more or less according to plan, and everything was fine. He couldn’t oversee all the details of the rebirth of the Saiyan race while caring for a brood of children. It was for the best, for everyone.

He repeated these things to himself as he went upstairs to sleep. The repetition faltered as he approached the bed.

The bed where they had all slept together, where he woke up every morning with his arm curled around them and their small tails curled around his arm. The bed that still carried their scent.

Vegeta curled up on it and in the deafening silence, cried himself to sleep.
____________________________________________________________________________
Vegeta visited the children weekly, observed them more often than that. They were thriving, troublesome little creatures that they were but their parents seemed to revel in them, as did the entire village.

Vegeta knew that if anything happened to him all his work might be lost so he started writing everything down, information on the children, their family, progress, and most importantly what needed to happen in the future. The only problem was who to give the information to. The woman was an obvious choice, but he knew she would need all of her questions answered before she could accept the responsibility. He also didn’t want her feeling conflicted about keeping the secret from Goku, and that secret had to be kept, at least for now. He needed someone who wouldn’t question too much, and who could keep a secret. They also needed to be insightful enough to recognize small problems before they could become bigger ones.

Only one name came to mind. He closed his eyes, concentrated and reappeared on a cold and tranquil mountainside. A small thawing stream ran down the rocks.

“What is it with the cold water? Does it taste better or something?”

Piccolo snorted. “Up this far is the only water that humans haven’t polluted yet. And yes, it does taste much better. Now why are you bothering me?”

Vegeta smirked at the floating Namekian. If he was surprised at Vegeta’s ability to instantly transmit he certainly wasn’t going to show it. “Want some reading material?”

Piccolo eyed him strangely. “What, are you selling magazines now?”

“Here.” Vegeta didn’t take the bait and Piccolo frowned. He set himself down and turned to Vegeta, taking the proffered notebook. He started reading and his eyes widened as he read. “Holy shit. Vegeta, this could actually work.”

“Only if it’s done properly. And there won’t be much wiggle room for a couple of generations. Look, I’m still in uncharted waters here for the most part. If something happens to me someone else will have to take over as far as making sure the plan doesn’t go out the window. So… would you? I’m not asking for me,” he added. “I can’t think of anyone else better qualified.”

Piccolo closed the book, sighed heavily. “Are you asking me to be a godparent to your kids?”

Vegeta gave him an amused grunt. “I guess I am.”

Piccolo was conflicted. This was a huge responsibility, and also a great trust. And having a hand in the ressurection and betterment of an entire race spoke to the Guardian in him. “Are you ever going to tell Goku? Shouldn’t he be the one to do this?”

Vegeta folded his arms and Piccolo thought it an oddly protective gesture. “I’ll have to tell him eventually. Full-blooded children of an effectively dead race are a secret that won’t keep forever. But I’m not planning on it any time soon. If I went to him with this he’d agree out of some misplaced sense of obligation and fuck up his whole life in the process. Can you imagine what his harpy would say? No, it’s not time yet. Believe it or not I’m actually trying to minimize the damage I do him. Besides, for this job I need someone who’s smart enough not to die again. That is definitely not Kakarot.”

Piccolo laughed. “He’s been practically crawling out of his skin lately and now I know why. And he’s trying to find you, you know. But I can see why he can’t. Even Dende can’t sense you at all, and all I get are like shadows every once in a while. How are you doing that?”

Vegeta shrugged. “It’s just a ki control trick.”

“Right,” Piccolo drawled. “Remind me never to challenge you to hide and seek.”

Piccolo was quiet for a while and Vegeta didn’t push. Finally he spoke and he could swear that Vegeta was relieved at his answer. “Fine. I’ve already raised one of Goku’s brats, what’s guiding a few more?”

Vegeta sighed and Piccolo knew he heard relief that time. Piccolo handed him the notebook again. “I’ll keep this at my home so I can keep it updated. I’ll make sure you can find it.” He looked at Piccolo and frowned. At one point in the past they had hated each other quite passionately. But hatred had given way to mutual respect, and now they considered each other friend, though they never spoke of it.

“How the hell did we get here, Namek?” Vegeta asked.

“It’s your fault you royal pain. You got soft.”

“So did you Uncle Green Man.” He blinked out and Piccolo laughed into the stillness as Vegeta’s amusement rubbed off on him.

“Eh, screw you too.”
____________________________________________________________________________
Any question Vegeta had of whether or not he needed Goku around to trigger his body to change was answered loud and clear when he woke one night sweating. He threw back the covers and as he expected that telltale pain between his legs had preceded that external opening of his womb.

“It’s too soon,” he panted. It had only been two weeks since he’d delivered and though his energies were building back, he was only at half of normal. His body wasn’t ready for another pregnancy so soon, this heat cycle didn’t make any sense. Unless it was a kind of biological safeguard. Saiyan numbers had been low a thousand years ago due to high casualty rates from the near constant infighting.

“Great.” Vegeta growled in annoyance. “So I’m supposed to ‘do my part’ and stay pregnant, huh? Not fucking likely.” That still didn’t explain the danger he’d felt at not allowing Goku to bond with him.

His body interrupted his thoughts. His skin tingled, he felt overheated. It wasn’t just physical either, he knew that he could jerk off all day and not feel any different. His body didn’t care about release, it wanted to be filled. Sighing he got up, got dressed and headed for the gravity room, intent on training until his body was too tired to do anything but sleep.
____________________________________________________________________________
It lasted two miserable days. His single-minded pursuit of getting stronger was his only reprieve from a persistent ache in his loins, higher than normal body temperature, raging need and uncontrollable thoughts of Goku.

Over the following week as his energy returned he added Trunks back into his routine. He visited as much as he could over the next month, transmitting them someplace private to talk or train, sometimes even just to eat together. His firstborn was getting stronger all the time and was always after Vegeta to teach him some new move he could use to get the drop on Goten.

It wasn't long before he asked if the other boy could come with them sometimes. Vegeta saw no reason to refuse as long as the boy could keep a secret better than his father.

Vegeta had to admit, the days when both the boys came along were fun. Goten was his father's son through and through, good hearted and an extraordinary fighter. He was easygoing, and just as easy to accept as family.

Vegeta and Trunks were alone when it happened again, working on Trunks’ ki control. Though the pain was no longer new or worrying, he had stopped mid sentence in a grunt and it was enough to alert Trunks to something being wrong.

“Dad!” Trunks came and helped him to the ground sat next to him “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just hungry probably. Stomach cramps,” Vegeta lied smoothly as the pain ebbed.

“We can go back to the house and get dinner if you want. Mom and Chi-Chi are out on a Girl’s Only vacation. They said they were tired of all the smelly boys around them,” he laughed. “Gohan and Videl are staying here with me and Goten while they’re gone.”

Trunks’ laughter broke off and his eyes went strangely unfocused as he breathed in deeply. Vegeta frowned down at him in concern. “Trunks?”

But Trunks just sighed, put his head in his father’s lap and…

‘Is he asleep?!’

Sure enough Trunks was not truly asleep but happily relaxed, as if someone had shot him with a tranquilizer.

He thought about it for a minute but realized it made sense. The last thing a mated pair would be able to deal with during this time would be their children wanting attention; it was far better that they slept through and didn’t see Daddy doing that to Father.

He took his now-slumbering son home and put him in bed, shaking his head, still not quite believing this strange ride he was taking.

But his energies were back to normal now, and it was time. He felt someone coming quickly down the hallway and blinked out, returning to his home to get ready. He found himself going about his tasks with more enthusiasm than he needed to, anticipation lending speed to his movements. He frowned when he realized that he actually wanted this, was eager to see Goku again. He crushed that eagerness ruthlessly. This wasn’t about him, and what he was doing to Goku was tantamount to rape. He was the last thing Goku was going to want to see.

He sighed. This was about the future. He had to remember that.
____________________________________________________________________________

Goku woke slowly, aware only of someone else in the bed with him at first. Had Chi-Chi come home from her vacation with Bulma early?

Then that scent hit him and he moaned, thinking he was dreaming again. “Vegeta,” he sighed, reaching for the erection that always accompanied these amazing dreams.

His eyes came open in a gasp when his hand was batted away. The star of those dreams lay next to him, turned toward him, watching. He was gloriously naked and Goku just wanted to touch every bit of skin that he could.

He reached for Vegeta urgently, trying desperately to fight off the fog taking over his mind. “Where have you been? Your ki just disappeared, why won’t you let me find you?”

Vegeta’s eyes widened as Goku took him into his arms. He’d expected anger, distress, in the least a ‘not this again,’ not this relief. He pushed his surprise to the side. It had to be his scent clouding Goku’s mind; he probably had no choice but to be welcoming, there was no other explanation for it.

“I’m here now third-class,” he said with a small smile. “Make the most of it.”

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This chapter was fun to write, and I really hope it was fun to read. As always let me know what you think if you would, it means a lot. ‘Til next time! :)

Cara9001: Poor, messed-over, stubborn Vegeta, right? Well, if anyone can get through to him it’s Goku, let’s just hope he figures out how sooner rather than later. And that whole bit with the shopkeeper was totally due to your love of sassy Vegeta. It was fun to write, so thank you very much for commenting, it’s greatly appreciated. :D
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Atavism