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Zamasu and Goku Black had merged into a monstrosity. And Goku had suggested fusion.
"If we still need a major boost in power to break down his body than it's the best chance we've got! Come on! You've got to admit I'm right about this."
Kakarot was using logic on him. Showed you what an upside down world fusion was.
There was a reason Vegeta didn’t like to fuse with Goku. It wasn’t that being Vegeto didn’t feel great. It was that the transition after was harder. It was like having a birthday party if you were one to like those but then when you woke up the next morning you didn’t see a soul, not another living person for the whole day. The absence of people would be palpable almost physically after the wash of serotonin and arms thrown around you the night before. Now Vegeta was fine being alone. Hell he could be alone for days and feel content. But after fusion, he almost felt an ache to be in Goku’s presence and he had to resist the urge to turn to him, to come back together like two opposite magnets snapping into one. Human relationships were so much easier, to be trapped on the x and y axes of physical bodies. Bulma and him could come together like flint on steel, hot sparks and connection, but they always remained separate in their bodies, even if they were in synch. And then they drifted back to their own passions, her science, him training, and they could peacefully coexist, enhancing each other’s lives with lived proximity. With Kakarot, there never was peace. Vegeta huffed in annoyance.
"Oh come on!" The Earth-grown Saiyan slouched forward towards him.
“Cut it out! If you say one more word than the answer is no. Damn it all! One hour. But that's it.” He snapped on the potara earring as a senzu bean crunched between his teeth.
And then his mind was wiped clean in the sublime transformation of melding with the spikey-headed golden retriever. No, those were too intelligent. Goku was if a yellow lab ate too much Elmer's glue. The simplicity of Goku’s mind repulsed him, and secretly made him terribly terribly jealous. His, no their thoughts, they were Vegito now, hummed with Goku’s enthusiasm edged with Vegeta’s spite. The contrast of the dispositions together reminded Vegito of a novice artist accidentally outlining a bright object in thick black lines instead of simply coloring to its edge. A drawing Goku would probably scratch down on a piece of paper in a rush to convey the colors of a power level.
In the past, Vegeta had vaguely wondered what it must feel like for Goku to share his thorny mind. After one of the first times they had fused Goku had staggered back, wagging his head in his hands in shock. “Vegeta, you are really intense!” To dumb it down for Kakarot, yuh duh! Vegeta was thrown at first that it was an experience Kakarot would seek again and again, gleefully, pleading like a child. It must have just been for power levels. Vegeta thought if Goku could sense his anguish he’d never want to vacation in his head again.
Once in a spiral of grief, probably on the anniversary of the death of his homeworld, he traveled across the galaxy in search of an undefeatable foe. Not to become a better fighter like his usual quest, not even for revenge or even an outlet for emotions. No he wanted a villain so great he would have to fuse with Goku to defeat them and save the universe. In this scenario, he wouldn’t have to ask Goku, it wouldn’t be a choice, it’d be out of their hands. They would become one and he wouldn’t be alone with the ghosts in his skull. They would be chased away from the brightness that was Vegito’s aura. It was a feeling beyond wholeness, a kind of completeness with the universe that otherwise wasn’t possible with the Saiyon race wiped out of it.
The mortal and immortal halves of Zamasu were warring, distorting. Vegeta knew that if they survived this is what would haunt him. Not the awesomeness of the Zamasu's power or the cruelty of the Super Kai’s vision, but the corruption of Goku in fusion form. Vegeta would never have realized the holiness of their union if he had not been confronted with the Goku Black Zamasu abomination.
With a final punch, Vegito separated. Vegeta was gasping, stunned back into singularity. He felt like a fish ripped from the water and left flopping on deck, gapping with a mouth that could not breath air. Damn it all! They were supposed to have an hour! They had burned through too much energy. On their own, they both were a candle burning at both ends. Together, they made a flaming X tossed into a puddle of gasoline. Their commonality multiplied. One with glee, one with fire, but both with the same drive of always reaching beyond limits. It inspired them both, their rivalry, their companionship. Nothing feels totally real unless there is someone there to witness.
His son and Goku’s son fused sometimes. On the one hand, it was a very good thing. The enemies that he and Goku attracted were extremely dangerous, and their fusion Gotenks always gave them a fighting chance for survival in the event an enemy came across them first. On the other hand, he wished his son wouldn’t experience something so confusing at such a young age. He had to fight the impulse to bark at them to separate when he saw them together like that. But Trunks and Goten fused with an ease he and Kakarot never had. There seemed to be no insecurity, no self-consciousness, no fear. They glided away as one as if fusion was as simple and inevitable as a caterpillar becoming a butterfly or a tadpole reaching out with new limbs to land. Who knew of all their fighting instincts, this was the strongest one. With Trunks so young, he had to be careful not to seem to pass judgement on anything that kept Trunks alive or made him strong. He needed to project unquestionable decisive authority for now to cultivate offspring that would live where his parents and so many others had not. He knew his role as a father. He was tempted though to ask future Trunks now about fusion. This version of Trunks, so far away now from his childhood, could have some useful insights on fusion. A Trunks so firmly in his adulthood would not be confused or led astray by a few questions like a young boy could be. Vegeta would be in the clear. But the chance to be alone with future Trunks, other than for some quick sparring, had not presented itself. And the thought of Kakarot walking into such a conversation or it ever getting back to him was utterly mortifying. That this was the feeling that arose in Vegeta when he pictured such a scenario probably spoke a lot. But it only magnified the mortification to analyze it, so he pushed it out of his mind.
Everytime they made Vegito, he was afraid he would be overwhelmed by Goku. That he would lose himself entirely. And sometimes he welcomed the thought. He had given into it the first time they fused with the earrings and they thought the fusion would be permanent. When he was Vegito, he was not a tragic prince without a people, without a planet. and Goku was (not even seemed, was! The lucky bastard) happy. So happy.
Vegeta believed that the electricity Goku worked up in his muscles occasionally drifted to his brain, causing a thought. That's why it took Goku so much fighting to get the idea he could summon Grand Zeno. The two of them leapt onto the legs of the time machine before Grand Zeno obliterated them with Zamasu. Then they were back to a blue sky, and Vegeta lighted down on to their Earth, Goku rubbing his ass at his misstep, butt first into the dirt. The fight over, Vegeta imagined his torn muscles were knitting themselves back together bigger, but not near to what they were as Vegito. He ran his fingers down his forearms. Not to ease the bruises after that beating but because after fusion, he liked to come back down to his body this way. To reacquaint himself with the edges of his singular form. This is where I end. The muscles had receded back incrementally in waves like a tide. The power levels are humming back to a sustainable level. There’s no one else in here but me.
Sometimes at night, he dreams he circles the planet as Vegito. One body, one mind, one calm, one joy, flexing his power and strength through the atmosphere for the sheer pleasure of being a new entity, a sum greater than the parts. He asked Kakarot once if he had dreams. “Uh probably! But I never remember them. Hee hee!” The Saiyon rubbed the back of his head, eyes squished closed above his wide grin. Lucky imbecile.