Disclaimer: I own nothing…

Here's a topic that's been bouncing around my skull for a few years. Anyone remember the "glory days" of DBZ… you know, back in the nineties when an anime was actually good (though still outclassed by the eighties)? You guys remember that movie about Broly, the Legendary Super Saiyajin, and about how totally stupid that epic fight scene ended? Yeah, I got it, the good guys were supposed to win…

But what if they didn't?

What if, when facing a power like Broly in multi-on-one combat, they lost and lost badly?

What if the powers that be (i.e. an insane, bored author… me) chose to tweak that lame ending to how it should've gone?

What if Broly arrived into the Naruto-verse like how he did in the 2nd movie, the 2nd Coming of Broly?

Just something to think about, I suppose… and possibly worthy of a fan-fic or two…

()()()

Son of Broly

Chapter One: The Nightmare Victorious pt. 1

The Z-warriors were losing this fight… and they knew it. It was becoming rapidly apparent that for the nth time in their lives, they faced a power more overwhelming than any that had come before it. But unlike those past, uphill battles, the odds of this fight were so against them that even the strongest fighter among them, the mighty, Saiya-jin of Earth, Son Goku, felt the icy tendrils of doubt and fear wrap tightly around his heart, chilling him to his bones.

Broly was like a force of nature, unstoppable, invincible. Utterly ruthless. The giant warrior already surprised them all with his revelation of his Super Saiya-jin status: The pinnacle of the mostly-extinct race's fighting potential. But then, after Goku and his son, Gohan, as well as Vegeta, the Prince of the Saiya-jin race and his son from the distant future, Trunks, when all the remnants of the warrior race transformed respectively into their SS forms, attempting to match Broly, the madman took his power to the next level. Broly released his ultimate potential as a juggernaut of muscle, speed, and raw power the likes the group of shell-shocked Z-warriors had never encountered before.

Not even Frieza, the thrice-damned alien warlord that was defeated first by Goku, and then by Trunks, could field this level of ki. Simply standing in the face of Broly awesome aura was a respectable achievement in itself. But fighting him? Actually waging battle against him?

Suicide… a complete and utterly-futile exercise in self-destruction. And the son of the deceiver, Paragus, the Saiya-jin that had lured them all to this blasted planet, was all too ready to deal out pain and murder upon the Z-warriors.

Neo Planet Vegeta trembled as if in agony by the energies unleashed and the great Comet Camori spiraled ever-downward upon the doomed world, promising complete annihilation no matter what the outcome of this epic struggle. The Kai's in the heavenly realm looked on in sorrow and horror as their hopes for their respective sections of the cosmos fell to pieces with every punch, with every kick, and with every brave warrior fallen, never to rise once more.

And still, the golden-haired gods of war battled onward, fighting and blasting towards certain destruction…

XXXXXXX

There is a point when fighting for one's life where everything becomes ironic and absurd. Case in point: Five fighters, fully-powered and completely healed (courtesy of a timely Senzu bean), all but one with Super Saiya-jin-level strength, and years of combat experience facing the vilest of evils in the galaxy, all of these details being brought to bear on a sole, stationary, and floating target. Such a terrible force of combined might would decimate the most powerful of foes… except for Broly.

The Namekian known as Piccolo struck with all his strength; punches, kicks, and rakes of his clawed hands that were in tandem with Goku's barrage of equally-powerful attacks. The tactician in the green-skinned warrior howled in delight of this rare advantage–to have a partner who is in synch with your own fighting style and attacking from both the fore and the rear was a sure win in any battle. It was known as a "pincer strategy", both fighters blocking off all exits and "squeezing", like a crab claw, their opponent into submission.

And yet, to Piccolo's disbelief, the towering Super Saiya-jin refused to fall, refused to acknowledge the strength of their blows, taking all in stride as if assaulted by a pair of de-clawed kittens.

This bastard doesn't even feel it, his mind screamed aloud, never halting in his attacks. They call me the Risen Demon King back on Earth, but if that's true, just what the hell is this monster? A devil? A god?

The Namekian didn't have time to contemplate the nature of his foe because after ten seconds of battle, the giant Super Saiya-jin snapped his hands out, smacking both he and Goku away from him. Piccolo's throat moved painfully as he roared out to his other two comrades, "Now Gohan, Trunks!"

"Masenko…." The two teenage half-breeds intoned, building their ki to incredible levels as they charged their attacks. At the apex of the build up, they cried, "…HAAA!"

Twin energy waves of golden light arced towards Broly in a spiraling vector, combining into one large blast just before they impacted. Sadly, the mid-level techniques of two Super Saiya-jin teens did little to dent the awesome might of their foe although their efforts did force the brute down to the planet's surface.

Piccolo followed Broly's descent, howling a battle-cry as he flew down with frightening speed, his clawed hand flattened into a knife's edge to pierce the giant's flesh. They did not, however, as the Namekian grunted in pain after speeding headlong into what felt like solid rock. Pain flared again as his body was brutally shunted aside from the impact and Piccolo screamed anew when Broly, with a speed that belied his muscular bulk, spun round and roundhouse-kicked him into the ground.

The Namekian's eyes fluttered as he battled the bliss of unconsciousness, seeing vaguely the attacks of Trunks and Gohan fail pathetically as both were overrun by the giant's running clothesline. But his mind snapped to when a size-sixteen boot gouged a depression deep into his guts, lifting him off solid ground only to have his involuntary flight assisted by a bolt of hellish-green energy.

"AAAARGH!" Piccolo howled as he flew for miles, his scream of agony cutting off sharply as his body was subjected to a meteor-like impact and a fiery explosion as the ki wave detonated.

Darkness tunneled his vision as the Namekian seriously considered calling it quits right then. He was clearly no match for this kind of power. Yet two things stopped him from doing so: The first was the thought of Gohan, his beloved apprentice, dying because of his inaction–he loved the kid as if he was his own son. The second was the sudden whimper coming from above his craggy crater.

So after mustering his strength, the green-skinned fighter climbed the rocks until he found the source of the unmanly utterance. Piccolo assumed it was one of those bird-like creatures that Krillan, Roshi, and yes, Oolong, were protecting when he first arrived in his spherical spaceship.

Huh, gotta get the weakling out of… Holy Hell, its Vegeta!

Words failed him for a moment as the next bit of poor-poor-pitiful-me bullshit spewed from the Saiya-jin's lips as he knelt in submission on his hands and knees.

"I-it's no use…" Vegeta muttered to Piccolo's disbelief and rising gorge, "This is the end."

You have got to be fucking kidding me, the Namekian thought with disgust. After all the crap about, "I'm the Prince of the Saiya-jins! Blaaaagh!" I had to put up with over the years… and this is what I have to work with?

Piccolo shook his head in dismay as he strode over to the now shaking Prince and pulled him to his feet by his hair. "Just what the hell are you doing?" he demanded harshly, shaking Vegeta's blank look off his face so that he would look at him. "If you have time to bitch and moan, FIGHT!"

Whatever respect the green-skinned fighter might have had for the blue-and-white armored warrior dropped several notches at his pathetic reply. "No! Don't you understand? No one can win against the Legendary Super Saiya-jin! No one!"

Piccolo blinked at that before his lips curled in revulsion of the cowardice he was seeing. "And you call yourself a prince… fucking weakling!"

Tuning out the further whining of Vegeta, and still grabbing him by his hair, Piccolo lifted him from the ground and began flying slowly towards the fray.

Gohan, he mentally called, hoping his telepathic message was received. I'm coming, Gohan. Hold out…

But after many minutes of flying whilst half-listening to the whining of his burden, he eventually dropped the "dead weight", tired of carrying Vegeta to the fight.

"Just get out of here, you trash!" he snarled to the Saiya-jin Prince's falling form before speeding off in search of his apprentice.

XXXXXXX

Meanwhile, back at the fight, Broly was having the time of his life. Moments ago, he blasted Kakarot's bastard from the skies and was now indulging himself on tearing his foe a new asshole via repeated usage of his patented Eraser Cannon technique. Green bolts of homing death flashed from his outstretched palm as he laughed maniacally.

He was proud of his laugh, he had to admit.

"Hey! How about giving us a handicap!" shouted the voice of his arch-nemesis, who was reeling after absorbing another of his energy waves.

A golden-green eyebrow lifted as Broly gauged the distance between his now running foe and himself. Then, a sudden humor struck him.

"A handicap you say…" he chuckled wryly before roaring, "How about I tear off your arm and BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH IT!"

It was a good idea but for now, he'd soften the fool up with a few more blasts. A dark smirk came to his lips as his beefy arm chugged rapidly like the recoil of a rifle.

Or a cannon, he mused internally as more and more Eraser Cannon blasts erupted from his hand, slowing Kakarot's advance to a struggling walk.

"Too easy…" Broly snorted contemptuously as he decked his fellow Super Saiya-jin into next week, the resulting explosion of raw power sending Kakarot back a ways and obscuring the field with clouds of smoke.

Life was good, Broly noted as he stepped out of the smoke, seeing his adversary charging some kind of attack. Oh, and it was blue… Broly liked the color blue. He remembered several planets he once destroyed that had a blue sky and for some reason, that particular hue appealed to him, filling him with pleasure.

And dare he say… joy?

"Ka… Ma… Ha... Me…" Kakarot was shouting while Broly continued to close the distance between them. Still, the giant warrior was recalling another instance concerning the color blue, uncaring of the meager energy build up coming from his enemy.

A woman with blue eyes and long, flowing red hair once aroused his interest, he remembered fondly. It was a few years ago, many planets ago, when he and his father came across a world with humanoid life forms. It was some sort of colony planet, unregistered and uncharted by Frieza's galactic cartographers. The people there were hopelessly backward and naïve, assuming both he and his father were gods from the sky. Broly and Peragus did nothing to refute this fallacy and because of the way they were treated on the extent of their stay, the colony planet was never destroyed when they left.

The kindness of the planet's inhabitants was the sole reason it survived.

The woman from Broly's memory had been very friendly for those few, memorable months. She attended to his every want and desire, with earnest, explaining that gods were to be loved and treasured above all else. He had to admit, he totally loved the sincere albeit misguided attention the blue-eyed woman gave him and it was a bonus that she had been beautiful beyond compare. But the visit was not entirely casual as Paragus needed more supplies for his army.

Once they got what they wanted, the Peragus used that damnable bracelet to force Broly to return with him. The Super Saiya-jin didn't want to leave the paradisiacal world or his red-haired mistress. He had a sneaking suspicion that Peragus also wanted to stay though it was never brought up again.

The Super Saiya-jin promised himself that if he ever escaped his father's control, if he ever grew bored of tearing whole galaxy's apart (both of which were highly unlikely scenarios), he would find that planet again and return to that woman that made his violent life that much more bearable. Maybe he'd spawn a few bastard kids with her or something; she was relatively sturdy, able to tolerate a level of his massive strength when they coupled.

But what was that woman's name again? Broly frowned slightly in concentration. Ku-something… Kubara? No… Kushiha… no, DAMN IT!

Most of his focus was spent contemplating his memory than on the power discharge his nemesis had just finished charging.

"HAAA!" Kakarot roared, firing his technique at point-blank range.

It kind a tingled Broly's skin, making him recall the feather-light touch the mysterious woman from yesteryear had.

At she could summon a more effective attack than this chump, Broly mused as he looked down upon the stark surprise on Kakarot's face. Oooh, I like that look! But it needs more red… unless he can summon more blue?

Hmm, it was an interesting thought to consider. Grinning tightly, Broly reached out and grasped the shivering form of his enemy and began his beat-down anew. All the while, he kept trying to remember the blue-eyed woman's name.

Kushinwa… no. Kushina?

Broly's eyes widened in shock as the name sounded right. THAT'S IT, KUSHINA!

Unfortunately for him, or rather for Kakarot, he got a little too excited with his last punch. Broly realized that he had been a touch careless as gouts of viscous, crimson liquid splashed over him, drenching the area around him with bright, warm red.

"Oops, heh-heh… I think a broke him."

XXXXXXX

Vegeta was more ashamed of himself than he ever was when he first looked upon the golden form of Kakarot's transformation back on Namek. At that point, years ago, he felt pride mixed with grudging respect for his rival, with not a little bit of envy. Okay, strike that… he was jealous. Jealous of a mere third-class Saiya-jin reaching the mythic level of might his race so idealized. It was inconceivable, a mere whelp surpassing an elite caliber fighter such as he.

And yet, it happened.

Then, the whole android business mixed with the Cell Games, watching at how ineffectual his efforts were in the majority of those conflicts. Somehow, despite his gains, Vegeta was always a step behind… good, but not good enough. He saw a father sacrifice his life for his son, Kakarot throwing away his power so that Gohan might have the edge, the sheer rage, to win. The Prince watched his one son, Trunks, die like a worm in front of him and when he attempted to harness that same fury for revenge, he failed miserably. Mere luck saved the planet when Gohan fired off that massive blast.

But here he was, fully powered and energized, seeing three "sub-par" fighters in combat with a Saiya-jin unlike any before him. The True Super Saiya-jin… And when the call for battle rang out and his fellows answered, Vegeta could not find the courage to move, much less fight. Never before did he believe that fear could freeze him up so much.

Yet, that too, had happened.

How the mighty hath fallen, Vegeta bemoaned mentally, closing his eyes from the losing battle a mile away. How could it have come to this?

Vegeta was still brooding when suddenly, a blow of horrific power echoed out from Broly's and Kakarot's position, sundering already-shattered buildings into finer bits of rubble. Vegeta winced at the influx of displaced air, feeling the shockwave from the tremendous hit. Opening his dark eyes, he froze yet again, but not from fear.

Not entirely.

Disbelief was the cause for his latest inaction. Surprise and shock dominated his thoughts. Vegeta's mind was "stripping its gears" as he fought to understand just what his eyes were trying to relay to his brain. There was an explosion of red scattered about where the Earth warrior once stood. No, wait… Kakarot was still standing.

But everything from his waist up was gone. Just… gone!

"N-no, it cannot be!" he muttered, blinking rapidly in the hope that his vision was deceiving him. "Kakarot… is dead?"

Not him, not his rival, not the man whom he gauged his strength against, as reluctant as he was to admit it. But it was real, in all its bloody, vivid glory.

Broly's last strike held so much power that it detonated the torso of Vegeta's fellow Saiya-jin. Where once there was four of his kind left in the universe, now there were but three. Four if you counted the two half-breeds.

"KAKAROT!" the Prince screamed, all thoughts of cowering forgotten as his golden transformation scorched the very air in his rage. Ebony hair lightened to blonde and emerald eyes blazed in fury–Vegeta was primed and ready for revenge.

Howling another deafening cry of anger, he burst from his perch in an explosion of ki, firing across the sky like a missile aimed right for the giant warrior. The Prince of all Saiya-jins didn't hear the shout of his son, Trunks, as he sped towards the blood-covered Broly, his hands blazing with fire and death.

XXXXXXX

Piccolo found the body of Gohan–still alive if unconscious–hanging off a jutting piece of piping from a wall. The kid was in rough shape and the Namekian had not yet discovered if Trunks was alive or dead. But at least his young friend was still amongst the living.

A sonorous cry of anger echoed throughout the artificial canyons of the shattered city where they fought. Piccolo frowned as his powerful hearing discerned the owner of the voice–Vegeta–and what the cowardly little shit was screaming about.

"Goku?" he said bemused, turning around to see the Prince of the Saiya-jin's furiously hammer away at Broly, who was unmoving and looking quite bored with the display of strength. Of course, the Namekian's eyes were drawn towards the large splashes of red that covered the area around the giant Super Saiya-jin, as well as the upright remains of a body.

Are those… orange pants?

"Oh shit… Son is dead?"

Worriedly, Piccolo glanced at the comatose Gohan and sighed in relief; the boy hadn't seen the death of his father. But as his alleviation began to fade, his dread began to grow exponentially. If Goku was dead then this fight was over, period. Their strongest damage-dealer was in Other World now, unable to affect the outcome of this conflict. Kami help them all, Broly was going to kill them…

It was all a question of when.

XXXXXXX

"I AM VEGETA, PRINCE OF ALL SAIYA-JINS!" he roared, amping up his power level to its maximum as he shot towards Broly. Vegeta knew he was going to need every scrap if he was to win this fight. "YOU ARE A NOTHING BUT ONE OF MY SUBJECTS!"

The imperiousness of his words did little to provoke the giant warrior, save only for Broly to smile sarcastically and say, "Really? Then try, fool prince… try and make me kneel!"

Vegeta frowned at the blatant disrespect of his title and vented his fury with a flight-assisted uppercut… that missed and left him very, very open to a counterattack. But to his surprise, Broly noticed the opening but did not take advantage of it. Was he stupid or was that massive body of his too slow?

Dismissing his questions, the Saiya-jin Prince recovered and whipped around, up and down in midair, using his entire momentum to plant a kick that could shatter mountains on top of Broly's collar bone, surely breaking it. Bolts of pain shot up Vegeta's leg as he staggered in the air.

What? Feels like I just broke my leg… what is he made of, metal?

Rage bloomed ever hotter as the armored Saiya-jin finished his assault by landing and pushing off the ground with all his strength, driving a fist into the stationary Super Saiya-jin's jaw with perfect accuracy. That had to have hurt him… right?

Wrong. Slack-jawed at the complete lack of effect of his blows, Vegeta watched Broly, moving so slow and smooth that his motions were easily predictable, smile viciously and begin walking towards him with a determined stride. The giant's first step brought him within arm's reach of the prince, which had the effect of snapping whatever shock held him in place.

Grimacing with frustration, Vegeta hopped backwards, tapping his ki and firing blasts of golden energy into Broly's face. One, two, five, ten, nothing was halting the giant's advance. Even Cell in his perfect form could not weather such abuse as long as this guy!

"Father, let me help!" shouted the voice of his future son, Trunks. The stalwart teenager was aiming his pre-charged attack at Broly the moment he stepped in, unleashing a furious beam of power into the brute's chest.

Like every other attack previously delivered, Trunks didn't even manage to scratch the skin of Broly, so dense was his aura. Laughing uproariously, Broly swatted Vegeta's son into the stratosphere, out of danger and out of this fight.

Vegeta paled and opted to retreat, hopefully giving himself enough space and time to gather his wits and form another plan of attack. Broly, however, would not allow this to happen. As the Prince dashed away, flaring his ki to both charge his energy and defend from whatever new attack the giant would unveil, Broly was hot on his heels, eager to inflict damage. And when it came, it came fast and hard and relentless.

The golden-haired prince had but a moment to gasp in surprise as a super-sonic clothesline plowed him into a huge monolith of rock, cratering it with the force of his body's impact. Yet, Broly still was not finished for he began crushing Vegeta's skull deeper and deeper into the stone. He was still smirking that horrid smile of his as he taunted the defeated prince.

"Is it over already?" Broly asked him sarcastically as he continued to smash him. Vegeta could not reply as his mouth was covered in his huge grasp–and every utterance his was able to voice was a roan of agony. "Is this the best you can do, my lord? Are you not my prince?"

The pain became too much and Vegeta could not hold his Super Saiya-jin transformation any longer. As his eyes and hair darkened, so too did his vision and sense of consciousness; the Prince of All Saiya-jin's admitted defeat.

His last thought before he passed out was of Trunks… both of them. He hoped that they would grow up strong and that they might never have to meet the man who defeated their father.

Kakkarot… I guess I'll be seeing you soon.

Broly then sank a punch into his chest, tearing through his armor plating and flesh. Vegeta, last prince of the Saiay-jin race, died impaled on Broly's muscular arm as the Legendary Super Saiya-jin began roaring in triumph.

…

To Be Continued…

A/N: Okay, I hoped you enjoy this, my second story on fan fiction. Basically it goes like this, Broly is the father of Naruto and Kushina, obviously, as his mother. Naruto is NOT going to be a jinchuuriki… at all. But since he's not, my question to you is:

Who should be the bearer of the Kyuubi no Youko?

And yes, pick someone from Konoha.