Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

"Well?"

"He's perfectly fine, Vejiita. Just like I've told you three hundred times already. Are you deaf?"

"What does 'fine' mean? Why is he still unconscious?"

"I don't know what's happened to him, but this is the same kind of deep, healing sleep that all you saiyajins fall into after a battle. All of his injuries are old and healed, so maybe he's just had a rough time. You'll probably get more out of him when he's had some rest."

"For how long?"

"How should I know? A day or two, I'd guess. And now I'm going to go do the same thing, damnit. You two keep an eye on your new friend, though, 'cause I don't want him waking up and destroying the house."

"Hn."

"Vejiita..." Bulma said threateningly, clenching her fists.

"Fine! Of course we will watch him."

Bulma rolled her eyes and left, hunting something to eat. It was two in the morning, and she was about finished with the whole situation. Yes, the stranger was mysterious. Yes, he was unconscious still. Yes, his vitals were fine for a saiyajin. Yes, he did look a lot like Goku, if you overlooked that nasty scar.

No, she didn't actually too care too much at the moment. She'd been on her way back from a tour of Capsule Corp's world-wide distribution centers when Goku had appeared in the seat next to her, grabbed her hand, and transported them both back to Vejiita and Mr. Mystery Saiyajin. It was a damned good thing her pilot and personal staff were used to bizarre happenings, or else there'd be all sorts of other nonsense to deal with right now, thanks to Goku's stunt.

She yawned hugely and stumbled into the horribly bright kitchen. Food, she thought, and then sleep. Hours and hours of sleep, and no one waking her up, for any reason, on pain of dismemberment. With two super saiyajins in her immediate family, not to mention the others in close proximity, Bulma wasn't particularly worried about safety. Whatever the new guy was up to, he'd better mind his manners, or he'd get his pretty ass kicked for him before he knew what was happening.

"Pretty ass?" she wondered out loud. "God, I'm sleepier than I thought."

Food could wait, she decided, and so could everything else. The saiyajins could look after their own, for once.

Upstairs, she found Bura just waking up in her crib. Pastel eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the baby was sleepily gnawing on her own fist. Upon seeing her mother, Bura waved her other fist and both feet in the air by way of greeting. With a sigh, Bulma gave up plans for immediate sleep and settled down with her girl. It was always something.

*****

Back in the lab, Vejiita raised an eyebrow at Goku, who shrugged.

"I didn't even know he was there until you nearly fried him," Goku said. "Did you sense him at all?"

"No," the ouji said. "I was concentrating on the fight."

*More like you were too pissed off to notice,* Goku thought, hiding a smirk. He picked up the saiyajin's armor from the floor. "Is this normal saiyajin armor? It looks a lot like the kind Bulma made for us. Like your old stuff, without the shoulder guards."

Vejiita took it from him. "It is not the same quality as an elite's armor. It has seen hard use, though," he said, fingering the extensive damage.

"Good thing for him he's healthier than his armor," Goku mused. "Except for the unconscious part. Did you actually hit him with that attack?"

"He is still breathing, isn't he?"

"Good point."

Goku reached out, and without touching him, traced the scar on the stranger's face. It gave him a wild, feral look even in sleep, and Goku was suddenly glad of it. The saiyajin was obviously much younger than he was, perhaps in his mid-twenties, but the resemblance between the two of them was incredibly close. He could have been Goku's son, by a saiyajin mother.

"Do you know who he is, Vejiita?" Goku asked quietly.

Vejiita hesitated for a moment, long enough that Goku noticed and glanced up at him.

"There were millions of saiyajins, Kakkarot," the prince said, scowling. "Why would I know each one of them?"

The two of them looked at each other across the bed. The moment seemed suddenly awkward, as if they were sharing something neither was quite comfortable with. Then Vejiita abruptly turned and walked towards the door.

"Where're you going?"

"He got here somehow, didn't he?" Vejiita said gruffly, not turning back. "I want to find his space pod. The logs will show us where he came from."

With that, he was gone.

"Guess I've got the first watch," Goku said after a moment, settling down in a chair near the bed.

He couldn't help but think about Vejiita, wondering for the billionth time if he would ever fully understand him. He was empathic enough to know what Vejiita was feeling much of the time, although he had no plans at all to remind Vejiita that he could do that. What eluded him was the pattern behind a lot of those strong emotions. His empathy let him feel the turmoil, but Vejiita's experiences in life were so different from his own that he didn't really understand it.

Vejiita's current mix of eagerness, anger and fear was harder to pick up than usual because the prince was holding himself firmly in check. That kind of control had become more common over the year or so, but there had been a time when Vejiita wouldn't have bothered.

A brief time.

After the fusion, when things had quieted down again, he and Vejiita had been closer and easier with each other than they were with anyone else, even their wives. Goku hadn't really understood it, but that hadn't mattered. For a few months, he had felt less alone than he ever had in his life, and he'd loved it.

Then the Wish had happened.

As far as Goku could tell, the boys had just wanted tails. Their fathers had had tails. Even Gohan had been born with one. Trunks and Goten had felt ripped off, and unlike most adolescents with a grudge, they had connections. Because they were young and stupid, they didn't ask Bulma or her dad to help. They stole the dragon radar, gathered the dragonballs, and, from what had been pieced together later, gotten in an argument with each other and Shenlong.

In the end, the boys had gotten their tails. So had Goku, Gohan, Chichi, Krillin, Yamucha, Mr. Briefs, Tienshinhan, Kamesen'nin, Dende, and, although they couldn't be sure, probably Mr. Satan as well. Except for the latter, who went into a sort of hysterical seclusion for six months, the others had simply shown up at Bulma's house for a quick and painless procedure. Punishment had been lavish and inventive.

Vejiita, prince of all saiyajins, hadn't gotten his tail back, though. When Goku had finally asked him, Vejiita claimed it made no difference, but it had, somehow.

Vejiita had drawn away from him, becoming more of an enigma than he'd ever been. He'd become a solitary creature, flat, pale, and emotionless. When Bulma had gotten pregnant, Vejiita had shown no feelings at all, and he didn't seem interested in the baby. Goku had been distracted by the happenings with his own family just then, and he couldn't help but feel that he'd missed something important. Vejiita's own tail had come back then under circumstances the prince wouldn't discuss – all anyone knew was that this time Shenlong hadn't been involved.

Vejiita with a tail was a pain in the ass, but he was a Vejiita Goku understood better. He was passionate, irritable, and suffered no fools, but some of the joy of living had come back to him. His emotions were more volatile, and Goku had started provoking him, now and then, just for the pleasure of seeing Vejiita react. It was a dangerous pastime, but he loved seeing Vejiita laugh or go into a rage or suddenly lavish enough praise on Trunks to make the boy blush.

They were not as close as they had been before, though. Goku didn't quite understand why Vejiita had retreated, but he regretted it. He and Vejiita hadn't quite drifted apart – they still saw each other every couple of days – but there was still a distance there that he didn't like. Unfortunately, as with many things concerning Vejiita, he had no idea how fix it.

With a sigh, Goku made himself stop dwelling on it. Vejiita would be back before dawn, certainly, and then maybe their new friend here would wake up and they would find out what was going on. He'd contacted Gohan, and his son and Yamucha were on the look-out for any other unexpected guests. Knowing that there was very little else he could do, Goku settled in to watch over the saiyajin who was his own image in a flawed mirror.

*****

The blue-haired female jumped when he grabbed her wrist, but when she turned, her eyes were bright with curiosity rather than fear. "It's about time you woke up!" she said.

This was not the sort of reaction he was used to from aliens, who were generally either afraid of saiyajins or hostile, and Bardock blinked, bemused. He stared at her and she stared right back, apparently not intimidated at all.

Her coloring was odd, and she didn't seem to have a tail, but otherwise she was almost saiyajin. He didn't remember seeing her species around. Although obviously weak, she wasn't bad-looking, and she smelled good, which was a huge mark in her favor. In his experience, most aliens reeked like something dead or something pissed on, but he had to admit that most aliens he'd met had died soon afterwards.

This particular alien just looked annoyed when he didn't answer her, and then she shook him off and went back to checking the monitors he was attached to. She wasn't wearing a uniform and he wasn't familiar with the equipment she was using, but she must be some kind of medical technician. He could understand that. Half the time he woke up these days, he was in a med lab. Where was this one, though? And, come to think of it, why was he in a bed? Why hadn't they just tanked him if he was injured?

"Where am I?" he asked roughly.

"What?" she asked, looking blank. "I don't understand."

He sat up, pulling sensors from his chest in irritation. "Where. Am. I?"

"Hey! Did I say you could get up?" The woman put a hand on his chest and pushed, but he ignored her. He did a visual scan of his body and flexed everything that was supposed to flex. There was nothing wrong with him, as far as he could tell. Except, of course, for the confusion.

"Are you going to tell me where I am, or am I going to make you regret it?" he growled at her.

Another voice cut across the room. "She doesn't speak our language, moron."

Bardock turned to see Vejiita no Ou standing in the doorway. Except it wasn't quite... Bardock had only met the king in person once, though his face had been well known to his people.

The man before him had an even more impressive air about him, but he wasn't the king Bardock had known. It didn't really matter that much, though. The saiyajin was definitely a Vejiita of some sort; there was no mistaking the royal scowl. With a keen sense of self-preservation, Bardock leaped out of bed and knelt in reverence, his hand over his heart. Better safe than horrifyingly dead.

"Hn."

He took that, correctly, as permission to raise his head. "My lord... Vejiita?" he began uncertainly, but the man stopped him with the wave of his hand.

"I am Vejiita no Ouji. Who are you?"

"I am Bardock," Bardock said, bewildered. Vejiita no Ouji should be a child still, shouldn't he?

"You did not come here by ship," the prince said, his rough voice cutting across Bardock's confusion. "There's no trace of one on the ground or in orbit. The kami of this place doesn't know how you got here. Enlighten me."

Bardock closed his eyes in pain. Of course. It came back to him in one agonizing sweep of memory. Death, Hell. Rain.

Fuck.

He sat back on his heels, his tail wrapping tightly around his waist, as he tried to steady himself. Vejiita said nothing, but that flat and serious gaze was on him all the time, pushing him to regain control. With a deep breath, Bardock did so.

"Forgive my ignorance, my lord, but I don't know where I am, or how I got here. I think... I was in Hell for a long time."

Vejiita took that extremely well, Bardock thought. One eyebrow rose and Vejiita gave him an appraising look. Then he turned to the woman. "Get Kakkarot. Tell him his father's risen from the dead."

He spoke in the Standard tongue, and Bardock realized that the woman had been speaking it all along, while he himself had been speaking in Saiyajin. Maybe he really was a moron.

"Father, huh?" the woman said, "Small universe. I'll call him." She spoke with a complete lack of deference, which made Bardock think her earlier nonchalance must be a sign of insanity. She just brushed past the ouji to leave, as if he wasn't the prince of saiyajins. What was wrong with her?

Then it struck him: she was going to go get Kakkarot. Kakkarot. His Kakkarot.

"My... son," he said numbly.

"Yes," the ouji said. "You've never seen him, have you?"

"Once. Before..." He didn't know what he felt, or what to say.

"You may be proud, then. He is the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met. And that includes your other son."

"Radditz? Is he...?"

"No. Radditz died after many years in my service."

Bardock dug his nails into his fist, trying not to show his distress. Of course he had known that Radditz would most likely be dead, with everyone else. He had thought about this, even accepted it, during his meditations in Hell. But to hear those words, the confirmation that his boy was dead... The only child he'd been able to raise. The elite child of his heart. It seared him.

It was a thing of the past, though, and something he'd already accepted. This was the here, and the now, and there were challenges to be met. He had to deal with what there was in front of him. Humiliating himself in front of his prince was not acceptable. Unfortunately, he was as bad as most saiyajins at hiding his emotions. His tail slowly unwound, drooping behind him, even as he squared his shoulders and met Vejiita's eyes again. The prince was not fooled, and Bardock winced inwardly. Showing weakness in front of royalty was never a good thing.

Vejiita surprised him, though. "Stand up, Bardock. Your line did not fail. Get dressed and we'll find him."

Bardock wondered at this odd show of compassion from royalty, but he didn't question it. He shook his head a little to clear it, then got up and looked around for clothes. A neat pile of fabric was sitting on a chair near his bed, and he assumed correctly that it was clothing.

There was a soft, loose grey shirt with short sleeves, and tighter fitting pants of a more durable material, with, of course, a neat hole for his tail. He slipped on his boots, but left his armor. He didn't need it. It wouldn't protect him from the kind of power that had been displayed last night, and he found he didn't want it. He left the cloth bearing his own and Torma's blood on top of the armor. Vengeance was long past him.

He looked up sharply. "Furiza?" he asked, a cold chill running down his spine.

A hint of satisfaction in those dark eyes. "Long dead. Your son and mine killed him. His bloodline is extinct. His empire is ashes."

Kakkarot killed him? Bardock grinned wolfishly. His wish had come true, then. Something else struck him. "My lord, I saw you and Kakkarot... Have you ascended?"

The ouji laughed harshly. "More than ascended. Too late to save our people, but not too late for vengeance. There is only a handful of saiyajin left, Bardock, my get and your son's. And most have ascended."

Bardock didn't have anything to say to that. Or to the fact that Vejiita seemed untroubled by his resurrection. He was in uncharted territory now. But he would meet his son. He followed his prince into the unknown.

******

The house they were in was large and opulent, but it was not really a royal residence by saiyajin standards. For one thing, it was too quiet, and it lacked the life and bright colors of a saiyajin house. The inhabitants, most of whom seemed to be servants of some type, definitely deferred to the prince, though, moving out of his way and murmuring respectful greetings. For the most part, they all seemed to be the same species as the blue-haired female. They were weak and had no tails, but they shared the same outward physiology as saiyajins, and Bardock found he could even read their scents. How could they be so similar? Were they the dominant species here?

Bardock wondered what the chances of two species being so similar were.

Vejiita caught him looking and laughed. "They are too much like us, are they not? And there is more: we can breed with them. They think that Galactic Standard is their original language. There is a mystery here that I have not solved, but I suspect they were bred to be compatible with us. How else could such a thing happen?"

"But why?"

"Some Tsfurujin meddling, no doubt. But my heir ascended as a child. The hybrids are uniquely strong."

As if on cue, a blur of lavender streaked up the hallway towards them, closely followed by a darker blur. Vejiita handily intercepted them, and turned to Bardock with a young saiyajin of about 14 years in each hand. Bright eyes stared at him. One child had the features of the royal line, but with purple hair. The other was a copy of himself as a child. An almost exact copy.

"Here," Vejiita said. "Kakkarot's youngest son."

Bardock gaped at him, but caught the boy automatically when Vejiita tossed him to him. Shocked, and nose to nose with his living legacy, he could only stare. His line was continued, even though so many had died... The adolescent stared at him, equally transfixed.

"What's your name, boy?" Bardock asked gruffly, finding his voice after a moment.

"I'm Goten. Why do you look so much like Dad?" the boy asked, showing no trace of fear. Bardock remembered what Vejiita had said. Most of his son's get had ascended. Including this boy, presumably. He grinned at the brat.

"Because I'm his father."

"I thought you were dead."

"I was."

"Ok. Can you put me down now?" The kid didn't even blink, and Bardock knew he was old enough to understand what he'd said. He set the boy down.

"Does it bother you that I was dead?" he asked, curious.

"Naw. Dad was dead for a long time before he came back. Vejiita's been dead a couple of times too."

Bardock looked at the ouji, who nodded. Okay.... The royal brat was on his feet now too, and scowling. "C'mon, Goten, or we're gonna miss it!" the young prince said.

Goten grinned at Bardock and wriggled free from his grasp. Without another thought for boring adults, the boys thundered away down the hallway.

"The royal heir," Vejiita said dryly. "Trunks no Ouji."

"The one who, uh, killed Furiza?" Bardock said, trying hard not to look puzzled or skeptical.

"Yes and no. He will, or he won't, when he's older, many years ago. Long story."

Bardock couldn't think of a damned thing to say to that, so he just nodded. Why the hell was the ouji, of all people, being so goddamned sociable? Even if there weren't that many saiyajins left, by the standards Bardock was used to, Vejiita was practically acting like he was family. Perhaps it had something to do with Radditz. He felt a sad little swell of pride, knowing that his son had been in Vejiita's service. That had always been a rare honor, and he chose to take it as one, no matter what the circumstances.

"My lord," he began hesitantly. "You were a boy when...I died. How long has it been since Vegetasei...?"

"43 years."

43 years...

He laughed, the sound a little too loud and high pitched to be coming from his own mouth. Everything he knew was gone. Radditz was gone. He was almost 20 years younger than his only living son.

Vejiita said nothing.

He led Bardock downstairs to a large, open room, much brighter and sunnier than anything Bardock was used to seeing in a dwelling. The vulnerability of having so many windows bemused him, made him think of treetops. There were comfortable chairs and couches, and Vejiita nearly shoved him down onto one.

"You were in Hell?" the ouji asked abruptly.

"Yes." he answered quietly. He wasn't ashamed of it. It was only the truth, and no surprise for a saiyajin, after all.

"I have been there," Vejiita said with an odd twist of his mouth. "Briefly. Why are you here?"

"I'm not sure... The kami said she would gift me before she died, for trying to kill Furiza. She sent me to Kakkarot. After."

"She?"

"She. The kami...of Vegetasei. You know?" Bardock said, gesturing helplessly. His experience of the afterlife hadn't given him any special insight into the mechanics of the universe. He'd been confused off his ass most of the time.

"Hn." A long pause, then: "You tried to kill Furiza?"

"Yes. He killed me and the planet with the same shot."

Vejiita said nothing, but paced slowly around the room, then stopped, looking out the window. "Your son is coming. With his youngest brat."

He didn't bother to ask how Vejiita knew. "How many..."

"Three," Vejiita said, cutting him off. "A boy now grown, the younger son, and a girl who killed his woman with her birth."

"Did Radditz..."

"No."

Bardock had nothing else to say after that. He just sat and waited, sufficiently freaked out for the moment. He was a warrior and had been all his life. He knew how to adapt to change. He could manage this.

He looked up through the broad windows again at blue skies and green trees. It was a nice combination, though he would always prefer the red skies of home.

A sudden horrible thought occurred to him. "My lord, this isn't the planet Kakkarot was sent to clear, is it?"

"Yes. Chikyuusei." Thin lips were pressed in a line.

"He failed his mission?!" Bardock was aghast. His son!

"So it appears."

The ouji didn't seem too vexed by his son's failure, but Bardock was mortified. He went down on one knee. "I apologize for..." he began formally, but Vejiita waved him off.

"Don't be stupid."

Lacking anything useful to say in response, Bardock sat back on the couch and shut up. They waited in silence together, not looking at each other. Vejiita stood with his arms crossed, staring out a window. Bardock tried to gather himself and get his thoughts in line.

Despite the fact that he'd had forty years in hell to prepare for this, he had no idea what he was going to say to Kakkarot, a son astonishingly more powerful than he was, who was also twenty years older and had three kids. Disorienting wasn't even the word for it.

The urge to kick the living shit out of someone was unbelievably strong, but he lacked victims. Vejiita would probably kill him for looking at him wrong, no matter how attached the prince might have been to Radditz.

For no apparent reason, the prince suddenly turned, looking at the front doors. A few moments later, they opened to admit a small giggling creature that tumbled haphazardly through the air as it attempted to fly.

The blue-haired female, just now coming into the room, cooed and gathered the bundle into her arms, where it turned out to be a very young saiyajin girl, no more than a year old, with bright eyes, wild hair, and a velvet tail.

"Goku," the female scolded. "You know better than to let her go like that!"

"Aww, Bulma," came a male voice. "You know how she is! Besides, there's not much that could hurt her, anyway."

Bulma clucked her tongue disapprovingly, and then turned her attention back to the baby. "How's my sweetie today?" she said, brushing black bangs out of the girl's eyes. "Does Dashi want to go play with Bura? You do? Yes, you do!"

With a searching look at Vejiita, Bulma left the room again, and there were only saiyajins left. The silence was oppressive.

Bardock stared at the saiyajin in the doorway, who regarded him with a kind of wide eyed solemnity. Unlike with Radditz, who had taken after his mother, there could be no question that Kakkarot was Bardock's son.

My son.

They stared at each other, unable to put anything into words.

Vejiita snorted. "Like father, like son. Say something, idiots."

Somehow, that didn't help much.