So before Toei makes or breaks this, here'smy take on Vegetaâs worry over baby Bra.
Not even the aches of a vigorous workout could satiate his worry.
Vegeta huffed as he dropped to his knees, sweat creating a pool between his fingers firmly planted on the ground. He had overworked himself again, trying to alleviate his unease the best way he knew how.
It still wasnât enough.
He couldnât turn off the thoughts that raced through his brain. Once upon a time, he was able to block out his conscience, silencing the voices by way of purge and inducing fear, getting lost in the madness that was Friezaâs army.
But he didnât have that luxury now. And they screamed at him relentlessly, forcing him to cover his ear with his palms, hoping to regain his sanity.
âWhat if you fail for good this time? What if she hates you because of your past? When the time comes, can she separate Vegeta the father from Vegeta the sinner?â
They paralyzed him; creating a heavy weight that threatened to burst the vessels of his stomach open. He was already a father, and even though he was anything but parental in the beginning of Trunks life, his son was happy and healthy and strong.
But that was Trunks. A boy Vegeta had the luxury of meeting before the babe even drew his first breath. He was able to see his strengths and weaknesses, get an idea of his personality, a perfect combination of wit and pride.
But she was different, she was new. She was the magnifying glass on the person he had grown to be all these years later. She wasnât going to arrive in the midst of battle; her father wasnât lost in his own selfish vices of becoming the strongest in the universe. He hoped she wouldnât know the taste of battle, he prayed to Dende that her skin never became scarred with battle wounds outside of childhood scrapes. He wanted something different for her. If Trunks was his physical form of everything he pride himself in as a Saiyan, she was everything he wanted to become in a man.
He rose to his feet, wobbling from exhaustion, and turned off the simulated gravity. He felt relief wash over him as the chamber returned to normal gravity levels, his muscles singing in victory as they relaxed.
His stomach yelled at him vigorously, betraying the plea of isolation from his anxieties. A quick lunch couldnât hurt, followed by a shower. And then back to the gravity room to work out his pent up aggressions.
He hadnât seen Bulma really, other than to check on her swelling belly and deal with her hunger cravings. He didnât know what to say to her. The day she announced that she was pregnant, he simply nodded and went to train. He may have become a good man, something he still struggled with, but he was still Vegeta. And Vegeta did not feel comfortable expressing his inner most thoughts.
And those thoughts were currently a tornado of happiness and fear, patronizing him completely until he was nothing more than a flame haired mess of emotions.
He made his way to the compound, the sun beating against his sweat slickened back, and let his mouth water to the promise of left over steak that had been cooked the night prior.
And he just about blew the whole damn place up when he saw the meat being devoured by the third class.
âVegeta!â Goku announced, juices from the steak pooling around the indents of his mouth, âBulma said you were traininâ pretty intensely, I didnât think Iâd see you this early.â
Vegeta scoffed and crossed his arms. Bulma sat across from Goku, smiling at him with that hypnotizing grin of hers, the same one that led him to being a father twice now, and he relaxed the tense lines of his jaw. She was glowing, bathing in the pregnancy glow that radiated around her as she massaged her massive stomach. Had she been so ethereal when she was pregnant with Trunks? The Vegeta of yesteryear was too busy trying to ascend to pay attention, but this Vegeta noticed and he mentally declared her to be the most beautiful he had ever seen her.
âWhy are you here, Kakarot? â Vegeta tore his eyes away from the sun that called itself his wife and glared at the messy haired Saiyan. âAnd why are you eating my food?â
âI came here to see if you wanted to train with me and Whis, â Goku replied, his mouth barely functioning around the food that stuffed his mouth. Vegeta grimaced. In all of the years of knowing him, he hadnât changed his immature habits. Vegeta wasnât sure he even minded as much, at least he could say that he was more mature in that aspect.
Vegeta looked over at Bulma, running his eyes down her plump frame. He shook his head immediately, gaining a raised eyebrow from his wife. âNow isnât a good time for that, if you havenât noticed.â
âWell I was goinâ to ask you, but that was before I noticed Bulmaâs condition. I canât believe youâre havinâ another baby,â Goku leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head, and whistled. âYou sure have come a long way, Vegeta. Willingly havinâ another baby like that.â
âI donât need you tell me that.â
âItâs interestinâ,â Goku continued, his eyes innocently locking with Vegetaâs, âI was dead for so long before I found out about Goten, but we just clicked right away. Now you get to have a whole baby while youâre livinâ. And youâre the strongest youâve ever been while everythinâs peaceful. This new generation of kids are spoiled,â Goku laughed, wiping the corners of his mouth, âGohan barely made it four before he ran into problems.â
âShe wonât know any problems,â he retorted sharply, ânot with me as her father and her brother as her protector.â
Bulma smiled radiantly, listening to her husband declare an unofficial promise to their daughter. Even she would be left in awe at the man Vegeta had grown to be. His dedication and strength had always enticed her, and it seemed like now he was using it for the greater good. Watching how he treated Trunks, both of them, had eased any doubts in her mind that he struggled as a father. He was good and she was grateful.
And she knew her little girl would love her father with the same admiration of her purple haired son.
âWell, thanks for lunch Bulma,â Goku stood, stretching and rubbing his stomach with delight, âit was pretty tasty. And Vegeta, maybe you and me can get some sparrinâ in after the baby comes? Maybe you and me can train her and Pan to be some strong Saiyan ladies.â
Vegeta smirked. Now there was a plan. âBetter for you and I to do it. If it was up to Panâs father, sheâll be in her twenties before she even ascends.â
âHe he, â Goku rubbed the back of his head and smiled, â Gohan will get it together. I got faith in the guy. Speaking of which⊠â Gokuâs eyes narrowed in concentration, and then he pressed to fingers to his forehead before he vanished. Bulma shook her head.
âThat guy. He still doesnât know how to properly exit a room.â She ran her eyes over her husband, his delicious muscles bulging in his spandex suit. His face settled on the tiles of the kitchen floor, and Bulma stood to walk to him. He didnât need to say anything for her to understand what was going on. He was nervous and anxious and wouldnât tell her, couldnât tell her. She let him train away his insecurities, hoping that he would be more at ease by the time the Princess of Capsule Corps arrived.
âIâm surprised you didnât want to go train with Goku and Whis,â she said warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder, âthatâs not the Vegeta I know.â
The Vegeta she knows. He grit his teeth as he marinated on that statement. Of his family member so far, his son and soon to be daughter had not witnessed the man that he kept in the back of his mental closet. But she had. She watched as he ordered the killing of her boyfriend, experienced terror with him, and because of him, on Namek. She had slept with him, for reasons he still didnât understand, and put up with his dismissal of she and their child, welcoming him back when he came home with his phantom tail between his legs.
Perhaps his daughter wasnât the only one he needed to prove anything to.
âHey,â she squeezed his shoulder, voice honeyed, âwhatever it is youâre thinking about, just stop it.â
âItâs none of your concern.â
She watched his eyes dance over something disheartening and frowned. She had seen many of her friends go on with their lives despite their evil deeds, turning everything around for the sake of love, family and friendship. Did he not deserve the same? Did she not convey how much he was forgiven? Was Trunks not enough?
Perhaps, she decided, but maybe he needed a push.
She grabbed his hand, relishing in the fact that he did not snatch it back, and placed over her stomach. Vegeta immediately looked down at her gesture, her fingers intertwining with his.
âHello baby, â Bulma spoke to their child, â this is your mama and your papa. Do you feel that? Papaâs hand right above your heartbeat? Do you feel how strong and protective his hand is? Because I do, princess, and I can tell you that you are in great hands. Your parents and your brother canât wait to meet you, especially your papa. Heâs so excited. â She winked at his blushing face and continued. âGo easy on your papa, okay? He doesnât know how us Brief women really are, your mama only gave him a taste. But your papa will protect you and love you, just like heâs done for me and your brother. We owe him so much, you know,â she looked up at him and smiled, but his face was still studying the smoothness of her belly.
Their hands jerked and finally his eyes bore into hers, wild with astonishment.
âIt was!â Bulma squeezed his fingers, pressing them gently into her skin as it moved around again. She heard Vegeta suck in a quick breath of air.
â Sheâs kicking, hun,â she responded eagerly, easing his premature worry, âsheâs saying hello and she hears us.â She reached up then and grabbed his face, lightly caressing his cheek. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip before replacing it with her mouth, lightly pecking it. âAnd most importantly sheâs saying everything will be all right, papa. Your hands must feel comforting to her.â
Vegeta looked back down at the swollen belly. Was that true? Had his daughter really tried to convey that, or was Bulma reaching? The stomach kicked again under his palm, and he set his mouth into a tight line.
He wasnât sure if he would be the father she needed or wanted. He wasnât sure if he would be able to make her proud of him, or if he would royally screw things up.
But he was certain of one key thing.
These hands, these calloused hands that had seen too much, done too much, would protect her. He would spend every breath he had making sure his princess was safe.
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