Vegeta was standing on the edge of the Lookout, numbly staring out at the dark, cloud-filled sky. It was still pouring, but the rain was light from so high up. Dende was standing about a foot behind him, watching the prince closely and waiting for some kind of reaction. A few feet behind them, Piccolo was paying close attention to both of them, ready to intervene if need be. He and Dende both knew the Saiyan was under a lot of stress, and neither liked the rough way Vegeta looked when he dropped in on them. Piccolo, in particular, was almost anticipating a violent breakdown. But instead, Vegeta had just listened in complete silence to what Dende had to tell him, not interrupting once. In some ways, his silence and lack of emotional response made Piccolo more uneasy than an episode of violence would have.

Dende was starting to feel that same unease, and so he broke the tense silence. "It's just a potential explanation. There might not be any truth to it, Vegeta."

Vegeta didn't respond for some time. He continued staring out, trying to ignore the defeated voice inside saying that maybe this was only a matter of time. His eyes lowered towards the planet down below as he thought of his family, but he quickly shook his head, forcing himself to focus. It was harder than he thought. He was tired and felt unnaturally weak. He hadn't eaten or slept in some time, and the effects were being exacerbated with his stress. But he wouldn't keep anything down right now, and sleep was going to be completely impossible, so it didn't matter.

"Alright. Tell it to me one more time, boy," Vegeta finally ordered, turning around to face Dende. He hadn't tuned in to everything the young Namekian had told him, zoning out as soon as he saw where the conversation was going. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. The prince crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "From the beginning."

Dende nodded back, and started again. "The elders always said that there must always be balance of good and evil in life. There must also be balance in death. After death, there is eternal afterlife – those who are good are rewarded, and those who are evil are punished, both for all eternity. Humans call it heaven and hell, but it's not quite so simple. There is a third realm, one between the physical realm of the living and the spiritual realm of the afterlife.

"You only went there if you were good in spirit, but you died a brutal and unjustified death at the hands of someone truly evil, in such a horrifying manner that your soul was robbed of peace. Instead of passing on to the afterlife, you would be sent to the other realm instead, where you would be allowed to wait as long as it took for your killer to die. If the killer murdered more in the same manner, the force would become stronger in this realm. The souls would unite in a powerful unity of vengeance. As soon as the killer finally died, the spirits would take the killer's soul into this third realm, and then torture and destroy the soul completely. The killer would be helpless to stop it. It's said to be a fate worse than being punished in the spiritual realm. It is violent and painful beyond anything we can imagine, so much that Guru used to call the spirits in this realm "dark avengers." The killer's soul would be destroyed, and then the spirits would have their peace. They would then pass on to the afterlife."

"Stop right there," Vegeta said, raising a hand as he shook his head. "Just stop. That doesn't make sense. If what you say is true, boy, then there would be billions waiting for me upon my death, eager to have their revenge. But I've died twice and that didn't happen to me."

Dende took a deep breath as he tightened his grip on his staff. "The elders said that if you're evil and you get sent to the dark avengers, there is no hope for you. Your soul, your very essence, it's all destroyed. You can't be wished back with the Dragon Balls because there is no one to wish back anymore. Vegeta, you never went to that realm; if you had, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

"The only explanation for that, is that your precious Namekian elders were filled with bullshit," Vegeta growled, trying more to convince himself than Dende. "If it was all true, you would think that those I killed would have claimed me when I died. Two opportunities, and they failed twice? I find that hard to believe."

"Well," Dende awkwardly started, "One explanation is that the dark avengers could have chosen you and ended you each time you died, but they chose not to do so."

"That's ridiculous. Why the hell would they do that?"

"Legend has it that many centuries ago, one of the most powerful magic practitioners, a Namekian named Yona, managed to harness the necessary energy to break open the gate between the different realms, granting the dark avengers access to our physical plane. He wanted to use their strength to overthrow a tyrant who had conquered Namek. But it turned out that the spirits were so consumed with vengeance, that they started to possess innocents and even kill some of them to have it. Yona quickly closed the gates again, stopping their access to this plane. He put all of the necessary magic into a mineral.

"As the legend goes, anyone who knows the right magic could use the mineral's powers and open the gates again and let the dark avengers into our realm again. Because of the enormous ripple effects this could cause, the mineral was guarded and passed down through the generations. Some said it wasn't even on Namek anymore. Others said it never existed at all, that it was all made up. Many have tried to find this mineral, but none have succeeded. During Frieza's reign in particular, this legend was talked about and many devoted entire armies towards finding the mineral. The hope was that the dark avengers would cross over and destroy Frieza once and for all- Vegeta? Vegeta, are you alright?" Dende asked in alarm, looking the prince over. Vegeta's face was drained of color, and he looked moments away from collapsing. Somehow though, he remained standing.

"I'm fine," he barely managed to say. "Keep going."

"From what I am seeing happening on Earth, I think that the gates are open and these spirits have crossed over into our physical realm. And I think that it's possible this might have happened years ago. Yes, that makes sense. The only reason that you were spared in your previous deaths…was…well…"

"Spit it out!" Vegeta snarled.

Dende swallowed. "In their realm, time and place don't exist. They see everything from the past and from the future when they're in that realm. If they had taken you before, your soul would have been destroyed. I think they let you go each time, because they saw into your future. 99 percent of those who die can't come back to life, but you are in the special 1 percent, Vegeta. You are one of the few fortunate souls to know the magic of the Dragon Balls. They saw what would happen without their involvement. They saw that you would come back to life and eventually have a family. With access to our realm, they could afford to wait until-"

"They waited until I had something to lose."

"Vegeta," Dende sighed. "This is just my guess as to what's going on. We don't even know if these legends are true. I just thought it might explain-"

"Frieza thought they were true. He must have known that others were seeking this mineral to destroy him. He was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. The legends must be true."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Vegeta reluctantly began, "He sent me to get him that mineral."

"What?" Piccolo and Dende both said at the same time. Piccolo finally stepped up closer to the other two. "Are you sure it's the same thing?"

"I'm sure. I remember we had many purges to complete, but he canceled them all and sent me, Nappa, and Raditz to a planet to retrieve an ancient, holy mineral. It had been guarded there in secret for centuries. He gave us new space pods, new scouters, and told us that we would have back up immediately if we needed it. First and last time he ever offered anyone that. He must have known others were trying to use it against him, and decided to find it first."

"Did you find it?" Dende eagerly asked. "If you didn't, perhaps we could find it now. Travel there and locate it-"

"I found it and delivered it personally to Frieza."

"Well, what did he do with it? Did he use it?" Piccolo demanded.

"I don't know."

"How do you not-"

"I don't know!" Vegeta shouted in frustration, turning away from both Namekians. He ran one hand up through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to think. But it was too long ago. He barely remembered what the mineral even looked like, much less what was done with it after he gave it to Frieza. The prince growled a little. "I can't remember. Just tell me how to stop it."

"How to send them back to their realm?"

"Yes."

"Only the being who opened the gates can close them again. Or the dark avengers can leave whenever they wish. But it's likely they won't leave until, well-"

"Until they've killed me and my family. They won't leave until that happens. Until then, we're just sitting targets, and there's no way for me to fight back and protect mine. Is that what you're telling me?" Vegeta growled, settling both hands loosely on his waist, his back still towards the two Namekians.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta," Dende regretfully said.

"There are still things we can do. We'll try to contact the kais and see if they can help, or give us guidance," Piccolo offered. "If need be, perhaps we can visit New Namek and speak to some of the elders there. They might know more about these legends than Dende."

"Right," Vegeta quietly responded, back to staring out over the edge of the Lookout.

"Keep hope, Vegeta," Dende urged. "There must be a way to stop this. It's upsetting the balance of nature-"

"Shut up. Just shut up!" Vegeta suddenly yelled as he spun back around. He grabbed Dende roughly by the front of his cloak and hauled him over so they were face to face. Piccolo tensed and took a step forward, not liking the unsteady flare of Vegeta's ki as the Saiyan yelled, "Don't talk to me about hope! My family is being targeted, and I can't do shit about it!"

"Vegeta-" Piccolo started, but he froze when the prince raised his free hand in his direction, and it started to glow with ki.

"We'll figure something out, okay?" Dende gasped, having flasbacks to the terrifying Saiyan prince who had traumatized him when he was smaller back on Namek. "We'll figure something out, I promise!"

"You better," Vegeta snarled, before throwing Dende back into Piccolo, making the two Namekians crash hard into each other. They both fell back to the floor of the Lookout, but by the time Dende sat up again, Vegeta was gone.

"That was foolish," Piccolo chastised heatedly, glaring at Dende as they both got back up to their feet. "Why would you make Vegeta a promise you have no idea you can keep?"

"He needs hope, even if he doesn't know it. Hope will keep him together, which is what we need until we figure things out. This planet is already dealing with alien spirits. It won't survive Vegeta's wrath too."

"You're talking about Vegeta going on a purge of Earth? This is his home planet now. His family lives here. He's changed," Piccolo argued. "He's not the same man."

"I know he's not. But if the legends are true, then these spirits have waited for the sole purpose of making their vengeance as painful as possible on him – and there's only so much anyone can take."

"Yes, which is why we should start trying to figure out how to stop this before things get worse."

Dende nodded, turning back and following Piccolo, his grip tight on his staff the whole time.

"But I feel fine now," Trunks protested, weakly trying to shrug out of Goku's firm grip on the back of his neck. He couldn't break it though, and so he had no choice but to walk.

"I'm sure you do, Trunks, but what I saw back there wasn't normal, and I don't like it one bit. So you're going to get checked out and I won't hear another word about it," Bulma countered as she led the way to the infirmary. "Since someone keeps insisting on burning down every damn hospital we go to, you're just going to have to stay here."

"Your ki does feel a lot better, Trunks, so that's a great sign. Maybe you're starting to come around and heal from that virus," Goku offered.

"I don't care, I'm just tired of being treated like a patient."

"You'll stop being treated like a patient when you start feeling better," Bulma said as she opened a door for them with one hand, her other hand holding a breathing mask over her face. "Now come in here, and I have one of the top doctors in this virus coming over as we speak, Dr. Robinson. I already talked to him, and he's on his way. There's a nurse working, Myra I think. In case I'm not down here, she's already been instructed to let the doctor in through the southeast entrance. Goku, can you stay with Trunks until the doctor comes, or I come back down, whichever is fastest? I'm going to take care of Bra and a couple more things, then I'll be back."

"Sure thing."

Trunks grumbled his displeasure under his breath, but Goku steered him ahead into the room. Bulma watched them for a second, and then turned and headed back the way she came, tossing out the mask on the way. She was trying to keep it together, but it was difficult. Especially when her husband had suddenly gone M.I.A. She frowned, cursing under her breath a little. Her parents and some of her friends had stuck around for a bit, but they had already left under the assumption that Vegeta would be there soon. She hoped he would be, because she needed his help. She wanted to be with Trunks, but she didn't want to bring Bra close to him in case she also came down with the virus. And she sure as hell didn't want to leave her little daughter alone.

When she finally walked into the living room, she caught sight of Bra and Goten sitting on the floor, both holding a set of cards. The teenager had always been polite and kind to his best friend's little sister, but Bulma could tell that Goten was barely going through the motions in the small game he was playing with Bra. He was extremely distracted, so much that it took a few seconds until he realized Bulma was there. When he did though, he immediately shot up to his feet.

"How's Trunks doing? Is he feeling better?" Goten asked in a rushed breath.

"Yeah, he's feeling better. Your father's with him and we're going to take what happened back at the hospital very seriously, so don't worry. Do you want to see him?"

Goten opened his mouth to respond when Bra whined, "But we're in the middle of a game, Mommy!"

"Oh, right," Goten said, turning back to the little girl. He scratched the back of his head a little, before smiling. "I'm definitely going to finish our game, Bra, don't worry. I'll see Trunks after that."

Bra beamed at his response, and then turned her attention to her mother. "Can I see Trunks later with Goten? Please? I haven't seen him in so long!"

"I know you haven't, sweetie. We'll see, okay? I'm going to see if I can order some food for lunch…" Bulma's voice trailed off as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Goten and Bra fell back into silence, each studying their hand of cards. Goten was trying to decide which one to pick, when Bra quietly spoke.

"Goten…can I ask you something?"

"Sure thing," Goten answered, frowning as he kept his eyes on his cards.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

Goten looked back up, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He hesitated briefly in answering, his first thought going to Kegan Xhao and everything Trunks had told him about her. A chill went down his back, but he forced it away.

"No. You shouldn't either. People just tell you that stuff to scare you."

Bra nodded. "That's what my daddy said when I asked him once."

"Vegeta's pretty smart. He knows what he's talking about."

Bra was studying the cards in her hands, going over what Goten said. But at the thought of Vegeta, the little girl suddenly remembered something else. She put down her cards (facedown, so Goten wouldn't cheat), and then stood up.

"I'll be right back, Goten. Don't move! I'll be right back!"

"Okay," Goten laughed a little.

Bra ran into the kitchen, where her mother was sitting at the table on the phone. Bulma didn't look happy, and so Bra stayed quiet as she came closer.

"He went to see Dende? For what? Uh huh…I see…hold on a second, Gohan," Bulma said when she caught sight of her daughter. Covering the earpiece, she leaned down to the little girl. "Baby, I'm having a very important conversation with Gohan right now, so can you hang tight just a few more minutes?"

"Oh, I just had to give you this, that's all!" Bra brightly said, handing Bulma a rumpled yellow napkin. Bulma took it in confusion. She had barely opened her mouth to say thanks when her daughter had already raced back out of the kitchen, eager to resume her game with Goten. Bulma sighed and turned her attention back to her phone call.

"No, don't worry about it, Gohan. Your dad and your brother are here, that's enough. Thanks for letting me know about Vegeta, I'm sure he'll tell me what's going on when he gets here. Thanks, I will, bye." Bulma hung up the phone and absentmindedly opened the yellow napkin in front of her, debating whether or not to have a smoke before checking on Trunks.

Two seconds later, Bulma was in the living room, interrupting the card game that was in progress.

"Goten, why don't you go check on Goku and Trunks? I need to talk to Bra."

"But Mommy, our game!" Bra whined.

"It really won't take long to finish-" Goten started to add in, but when he saw the look Bulma gave him, he immediately put the cards down and got up. "I mean, yes ma'am."

Bra was pouting as she watched Goten leave. Bulma paid that no mind as she sat down on the sofa, reaching down to her daughter's arm. Gently but firmly, she pulled the little girl up so she was standing right in front of her.

"Bra, I want you to tell me right now, who gave this to you and why," Bulma ordered, showing her daughter the same napkin she had just given her.

Bra shifted awkwardly a little. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, you're not. But you will be if you don't tell me the truth," Bulma answered. She was deeply bothered by the fact that she didn't recognize the handwriting on the napkin, which meant someone outside of her circle had approached her little girl and tried using her as some kind of messenger to get to her. She always tried her best so shield her children from the pressures of her job, and she didn't like this new tactic, not one bit.

"I was in the hospital this morning, and I was hungry, cause dinner yesterday was, yuck. And I went to get breakfast, and then a man gave it to me."

"A man gave this to you," Bulma echoed, her eyes narrowing. "What man? What did he want? Where was your father?"

"Daddy came to get me and then he took me back upstairs. The man was nice. He talked to me, and he said to give this to you but not to tell Daddy about it."

"And did you tell Daddy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Bra pouted. "Um…I forgot."

"Okay. That's okay. Do you remember if this man told you his name?"

"Um…Ty-something?"

"…Tyler?"

The lights in the living room suddenly flickered once, before going out completely, leaving them in complete darkness. Bulma looked up towards the ceiling and cursed as lightning struck outside. Bra whimpered a little when the flash from the lightning illuminated a silhouette standing right behind the sofa, looking right at her.

"It's okay, no need to be scared," Bulma said soothingly, thinking her daughter was getting upset over being in the dark. She hugged the little girl close. "The storm must've blown a fuse somewhere. No big deal. You want to come with me to fix it? You can hold the flashlight."

Too scared to speak, Bra just nodded as her mother stood up. Bulma tucked the napkin into the back of her jeans with one hand, took her daughter's hand with the other, and then they slowly started making their way out of the living room. Bra couldn't help but sneak a panicked glance back over her shoulder, but it was too dark to see anything now.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the medical wing, Goten was sitting by himself down the hall from where Trunks was. His father had briefly teleported out to check on Chi-Chi, and so he was sitting there. The doctor had arrived, and he had been asked to step out. The teenager was restless, waiting to hear how his friend was, when he was suddenly blanketed in darkness.

Goten blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. He frowned and raised his ki, until blue light softly surrounded him. When he did, he could have sworn he saw a shadow rapidly move out of the corner of his eye. Startled, the teenager quickly got up to his feet and sank into his fighting stance, his ki now ignited brightly around him. The hallway was illuminated completely now, and he couldn't see anything. The hallway was empty.

Suddenly, someone powerful grabbed Goten roughly from behind, practically tackling the teenage boy to the floor. Goten quickly flipped onto his back, raising one hand up into the face of his attacker, ready to blast someone's head off. He froze though, blinking a few times when he saw who was hovering over him.

A slow smirk spread over Trunks' face as he looked down at his best friend.

"Gotcha."

The word was barely out of Trunks' mouth before the lights turned back on. Goten was staring blankly at Trunks while the older teenager got off him, laughing while he did.

"What the hell, man?" Goten angrily demanded, sitting up while he glared at Trunks.

"What? You can dish it but you can't take it?" Trunks mockingly shot back.

Goten got back up to his feet, and looked his friend over carefully. "I thought the doctor was with you."

"He already left."

"He did?"

"Of course. He said I'm fine. No virus. See?" Trunks threw a small electronic device at Goten, who caught it effortlessly. "Healthy and strong. Lucky me, huh? Guess I'm going to live."

Goten's anger melted into confusion. On the device was a blood reading, and down below it was a place to insert a finger.

"I don't get it. What is this?" he asked in bewilderment.

"That's the test they give you to see if you have Code V. They just need a sample of your blood in case you're not showing physical symptoms. It also tells you how bad it is. Mine came up negative. Like I said – lucky me."

Goten shrugged awkwardly. It looked legit to him. He scowled when he saw blood on the bottom of the device. "What is this blood? Is this yours?"

"Yeah. They had to prick me a couple of times with that thing, just to make sure."

"Oh. He sure did get through with this quick," Goten said as his eyes skirted over to the side. "It's just weird, I didn't see him leave-"

"What's wrong, Goten? Not happy I'm not dying anymore?"

"It's not that. I just…you know, never mind. I'm glad you're okay now, Trunks."

Trunks smiled, and for some reason, Goten felt uneasy as his friend casually put his arm around his shoulders. "Now that's the spirit. Hey, tell you what. Why don't you go tell my mom that the doctor's cleared me? Show her that device, she knows my blood type and she'll know what I'm talking about. I need to check with the nurse real fast, but I'll be up soon. I'm sure my mom will be pleased."

Goten shrugged Trunks' arm off, and stared at his friend critically. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Of course I am. What the hell is wrong with you?" Trunks asked seriously, his eyes narrowing while he stared back.

"Nothing," Goten finally said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Trunks. Just, you know, after what happened this morning…I was just paranoid, I guess…"

"Paranoid is right. Maybe you should be the one getting looked at. For now, just go check on my mom and my sister, will ya?"

"Sure, sure. I'll see you upstairs?"

"Yeah, I'll be up in a few."

Trunks stayed still, silently watching Goten leave. When the other teenager was out of sight, his expression darkened with pure hatred. He turned around and walked back over to the room where he had been examined. He casually walked in, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he did, he almost fell back against the door, both hands going up to clench fistfuls of his hair. An internal battle was waged for control between a Saiyan hybrid and another teenage boy, one who had brutally died long before Trunks had been born at the hands of a certain prince. Except one had been severely weakened from the Code V virus, the only reason he had been inflicted with the disease. The struggle between the two was fierce – there was a voice furiously screaming in his mind, the voice of one very pissed off hybrid Saiyan, but with Tyler Xhao's death, there was no protection anymore. The voice was finally silenced, at least for the time being.

Trunks lowered his hands. His eyes were red when he opened them, and he smiled in satisfaction. Slowly, his gaze lowered to the two dead bodies in front of him, sprawled out on the floor. The doctor and the nurse, intent on helping him, had both been quickly but ruthlessly slaughtered by his hand and were now lying in pools of their own blood. The teenager raised his hands and stared down at them, marveling at the power he had. He had never felt such a thing. It was true that the body he was using had been cured of the virus. Vegeta's son had been weakened enough for the possession, and now the body needed to be strong to engage in the battle looming in the horizon.

Sooner or later, he would fight Vegeta again, just like he had so long ago, when he had desperately fought to protect his family from the ruthless prince in the midst of a purge. Vegeta had fought with him for a few minutes out of sport, before forcing him to watch as he slaughtered his entire family right in front of him, literally tearing them from limb to limb while saving him for last.

"You know what to do," a childlike voice whispered in his ear, making him smile more. Yes, he did know his task. It was to deal Vegeta a blow he would never recover from, to destroy him from the inside out.

He was going to force the prince into killing his own son.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bulma worriedly asked later that evening, her hands on Trunks' face while she examined his blue eyes. "They said that there was no cure to this virus, and Dr. Robinson just said you were fine?"

"Yes. I feel great, I'm fine, Mom. You saw the results of the test."

"Well, I guess you are. You look fine," Bulma admitted, frowning in confusion. "I do wish Dr. Robinson would answer my damn calls though. Maybe it was your Saiyan genes, along with the senzu bean, that helped you, huh?"

Trunks smirked. "Have to love those Saiyan genes. Speaking of…" he looked up at the ceiling. "Seems my father's home."

"Ugh, finally!" Bulma exhaled in relief. "I'll be back. Oh, you can tell Goten he can go home now if he wants to, since Vegeta's here."

"Of course," Trunks answered, watching silently as Bulma headed upstairs to greet her husband. He knew about the phone number she had, but the others would handle that. For now, he had other business. His expression darkened a little as he slowly turned to look over towards the living room, where Goten and Bra were both sitting on the couch, watching TV. Goten hadn't left, because Goku had made him swear he would stay, just in case. Slowly, Trunks went over into the living room.

"Goten," he greeted, easily adopting the speech of the teenager he was possessing. "My mom said you can go now. Besides, I'd like a word with my little sister alone, if you don't mind."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Vegeta's upstairs anyways," Goten reasoned with a shrug. He shot Bra a smile. "See you around."

"See you!" Bra brightly said, returning his smile.

Goten turned back to Trunks. "I'm glad you're feeling better. Text me and we'll hang out or something once all of this settles down."

"Of course, man."

Goten extended his fist for a fist bump, and Trunks returned it. Feeling much more at ease because of that, Goten gave brother and sister a last nod, and headed out. When he was gone, Trunks slowly walked over and sat down close to Bra. She barely paid him any attention, too absorbed in her television show. But she went cold with fear when her brother leaned over and whispered in her ear in a voice that belonged to Trunks, but in a much darker tone than Trunks ever used.

"I think we need to talk, little girl…"

Meanwhile, Bulma burst into her bedroom upstairs, ready to yell at Vegeta for having taken off so abruptly. It didn't take hours to talk to Dende, and she needed him right now. In particular, she wanted to share the phone number she had acquired. They had a lead, and maybe it would actually amount to something.

But there was no one there. Bulma frowned in confusion, and then went into the bathroom. Also vacant. She was wondering if Vegeta was in another room when she heard something out on the balcony. Emerging from the bathroom, Bulma finally saw her husband as he slid the screen door open and stepped inside.

"Vegeta! Where have…oh my god," Bulma whispered when Vegeta slowly looked up. He was leaning against the balcony doorframe, drenched from the rain. Most alarming to her though was the blood staining his clothes.

"I'm fine," he immediately said, scowling when she rushed over to him in concern.

"What the hell happened? Where is all this blood coming from? Where are you hurt?" Bulma asked worriedly, already having the top half of his shirt unbuttoned while she examined him.

"Woman, I said I'm fine," Vegeta growled, shrugging away from her. But Bulma was relentless.

"What do you mean, you're fine? Look at all this blood!"

"It's not mine," he tersely responded, finally walking into his own bedroom after a moment of regaining his strength. When he was met with loud silence, he glanced back at his wife. They made eye contact for a moment, and Vegeta's eyes darkened. "No, I did not go killing humans."

"The blood then?" Bulma prompted, easily holding his intense gaze. After a few seconds, Vegeta turned away and gave her his back.

"Animal," he replied while he slipped off his bloodied shirt. True to his word, there were no injuries marring him. "I just went on a hunt after I spoke with Dende. No more, no less."

"A hunt?"

"I needed…an out," he ground out, hating that he was even telling her this.

But it was true. He hadn't felt this type of stress in decades, and he had dealt with it in a manner dangerously close to how he dealt with stress back then. Knowing that his family wasn't going to be alone until his return, Vegeta had found himself hidden in the rafters of a high security prison, staring down at the lowest kinds of humans for hours. Those who had committed the worst crimes of the species. None worse than what he had done in his day, but yet, they were in peace compared to him. They didn't have the demons haunting them that he quite literally had. For hours he had contemplated killing every last one of them. They were all slated to die anyways.

Finally, Vegeta had left, and taken out his aggression on a few wild, untamed animals. But it wasn't the same satisfaction, and he had stopped almost as soon as he started. He ate some of the raw meat as though to give meaning to his violence, but he had vomited it back up soon afterwards. Even that had been a failure.

Vegeta turned back around when Bulma grabbed his arm and pulled him back. She didn't have the strength to force the movement, but he at the moment didn't have the strength to fight her. He braced himself for her anger, but was surprised when she hugged him instead. His bare skin was cold from the rain, but Bulma rubbed his back to give him some of her own warmth.

"I know what you're doing, Vegeta," she whispered in his ear. "The violence is an easy out. You're better than that, okay? We'll get through this together."

Not trusting his voice enough to speak, Vegeta said nothing. After a moment though, he put his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. They stayed that way for a whole minute, in silence. It was only when Bulma felt his skin start to warm that she reluctantly drew back from him.

"I have good news," Bulma said while she massaged his muscular arms to give him more warmth. "Trunks seems to be cured of the Code V."

Vegeta blinked a few times, and his head snapped to the side. He had felt his son's ki, but hadn't thought much about it. Now he focused on it, and nodded his agreement. The boy was downstairs with his sister, and nothing seemed amiss.

"It feels fine now," he relented, confusion in his eyes. "But I thought there was no cure for that virus. Hasn't everyone died from it?"

"Yeah. Maybe it's his Saiyan genes, you know. I don't know, but he looks and sounds really good now. Of course we still have to keep an eye on him, but I feel really good about it."

"Hn," Vegeta grunted with indifference, but Bulma could feel his tense arms relax under her fingers.

"Also, I might've gotten a lead on Tyler Xhao."

"He's dead," Vegeta bluntly informed her, much to Bulma's surprise.

"What do you mean he's dead?"

"I mean what I say, woman. I saw him die in front of me at the hospital."

"Well, he somehow slipped this to Bra," Bulma said, pulling out the yellow napkin from her pocket and handing it to Vegeta. "I'm pretty sure it was him. I haven't called the number yet. I wanted to show it to you, see what you thought."

"Hn. I still don't understand what this Xhao family has to do with anything," Vegeta mumbled to himself, staring down at the phone number.

"What did Dende tell you?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to respond, when he and Bulma suddenly heard Bra scream for bloody murder downstairs.