Rights: All rights belong to Akira Toriyama, Toyotarou and Toei Animation

This is based on the manga cannon, so there may be some discrepancies with the anime.

WARNINGS: This story is very, very dark, with a large amount of violence, gore, and sexual references, including references to non-consensual sex.

Bulma wasn't worried about her wayward husband, and she wasn't feeling guilty about setting the hounds on him. He was definitely up to something, even if he wasn't having an affair just as he claimed. Given he was refusing to answer her truthfully, she had every right to be incensed by his behaviour. Who knew what he was doing? It had to be terrible, otherwise he would have told her to get her off his back. It had to be worse than whatever she dreamed up.

What could be worse than an affair?

It was less than ten minutes after Goku's departure when Bulma's attempts to calm her daughter's tantrum were interrupted by a phone call. Placing Bra in her playpen in the vain hope that the toys would soothe Bra's hurt over missing her father's story-time, Bulma dragged the vibrating mobile out of her pocket with a sigh.

Ducking out into the hall, closing the door on her daughter's screams, Bulma looked down at the number on screen.

Dr Green.

Good grief, what had Beerus done to poor Ternyp now?

Answering quickly, she leant against the wall beside a painting of the beach her traitorous husband had always been fond of.

"Hello? Bulma here."

"Ah, it's Dr Green."

"What has he done now?" she demanded, not bothering with the pleasantries.

"What has who done?"

"Beerus. He left about ten minutes ago, and I assume he was heading to the hospital."

"Well, he might have been the one responsible. There were sounds of a scuffle from Ternyp's room, but when the nurses were able to enter, he was nowhere to be seen. The room was empty. Even Whis, that is right, isn't it? Even he was gone."

"Darn it," Bulma growled, "Look, would you mind coming over? I think Beerus has kidnapped Ternyp and is probably heading here as we speak."

"All right, I'll be there in a jiffy."

Returning her phone to her pocket, Bulma let out a long sigh. Beerus had clearly become frustrated with the hospital discharge process, and deemed Ternyp well enough to travel.

Or not, but since when did he care about Ternyp's condition?

He was a cruel, vindictive person, of that she was convinced. She did not feel Dr Green's sympathy for his past, not at all. Ternyp was not responsible for Gemuse's actions, and Beerus ought to realise that. But he had not cared about the lack of culpability, no, he had seen the body and exacted his revenge on the helpless saiyan. Beerus had tortured his victim in front of her, killing him and reviving him only to harm him over and over again.

Plus he had been responsible for the destruction of Planet Vegeta.

And, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her, the throttling of that husband she was trying to forget about. Even if she was unforgivably angry with him, she hadn't been at the time, instead forced to watch, helpless, as her beloved was strangled before her.

She was going to get Beerus back for all of his crimes. Somehow.

Passing by the living room, making a note to call in renovators, Bulma stepped out onto the front porch, looking up at the sky. It was highly likely that Beerus would be carrying Ternyp through the air at that very moment, heading towards her house.

It was very fortunate that her mother had prepared her former sewing room that morning to receive their newest guest. She thought she might see about housing Vegeta in there as well, if there was room along with Ternyp's equipment. But if she did that, she might avoid poor Ternyp because she couldn't stand the sight of her husband.

After a few minutes of nervous waiting, a collection of dots finally appeared in the distance, expanding as they approached. Soon, they resolved into Beerus, with Ternyp over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and Whis, who touched down on the driveway.

"Miss Bulma," Whis greeted, as if he had not been an accessory to a kidnapping.

"I trust you have a room for this thing?" Beerus asked, shrugging his burdened shoulder. Ternyp curled his tail at the movement, toes scrunching up and trembling. She was relieved that his gown was securely fastened at the back, not a hint of skin appearing between the two sections.

"I do," she answered in a steely voice, opening the door for the pair, "Keep going down the hall until you reach the back exit. It's the one on the right."

"Thank you," Whis replied as Beerus sauntered in with his cargo, Ternyp's upper body bouncing against his back as he walked. The saiyan's hands were curled into fists, but she could not see the expression on his face.

Still, all evidence was pointing towards pain, which was very likely considering the condition of his abdomen. Beerus would have known that as well, a fact that only heightened her resolution to exact recompense for his own 'retribution'.

"Miss Bulma," Whis intoned as they strode along the corridor, "I was wondering if you knew what had become of your husband? I was expecting him to be here for the transfer."

"He's in a forest somewhere. Goku beat him up," Bulma answered easily.

"I'm sorry? 'Beat him up'? Why-ever would he do such a thing? I cannot image Vegeta would have agreed to a sparring match."

"He's been cheating on me, so Goku was fighting for my honour."

Actually he was just bored, but that didn't matter.

"Cheating, you say? That seems extremely out of character. Are you certain?"

Was she certain? She liked to think and say that she was, if only to stir up trouble for her truth-hiding former paramour. But there was a chance that Whis would know something more about Vegeta's disappearances.

"Not really," she admitted, "But he's keeping something huge from me, that I am sure of."

"And this is a problem?"

"Yes, of course it is! We're married! We shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other!"

"Sometimes, as they say, ignorance is bliss," Whis answered in a light voice as they turned into Ternyp's new room.

It was sparsely furnished, with only a few baskets for clothing that she had scrounged up, and a brand new bed she had purchased specifically for the convalescing saiyan. It was powered, with rising and lowering functions at the head and feet, as well as the option of tilting to assist in getting out of bed. Lying in the centre of the room for access, it had a small table at the side with a jug of water and glass. Light brightened the closed curtains, purple like her son's hair, and illuminated the carpet, an old style that she hadn't bothered to replace in her regular make-overs. At the back of the house, most of the common household sounds were missing, replaced by the chirping of birds in the backyard.

Taking a few steps into the room, Beerus deposited Ternyp unceremoniously on the bed, the dumped saiyan rebounding as he gasped with shock and pain. Eyes scrunching shut, Ternyp wrapped both arms around his abused abdomen, lying rigid on the covers. Between his legs, his black tail flicked angrily as heavy breathing filled the room.

"I'm sick of the sight of you," Beerus informed him coolly, "But I'll be back later for another discussion, once our favourite prince returns."

Even though Bulma was beyond incensed with her husband, even though she tried to convince herself that she did not care one whit about him, she couldn't help a tremor of fear from running through her as she imagined what might be in the saiyan duo's future.

Side-stepping to allow Beerus to depart, Bulma was surprised when Whis exited the room as well in his master's shadow, commenting that there was no need to watch so closely in such proximity, leaving Bulma alone with the injured Ternyp, still stationary on his new bed.

"So, um, welcome to my house," she began, patting her sweaty hands on her trousers, "This your new room for as long as you need it. I'm sorry that it isn't much – maybe once we know a bit more about you we can give it a more homely feel."

"I doubt…" the saiyan gasped, "I will be here…that long."

"Oh," her face fell, "Yes, I suppose you're right. You'll recover your strength and heal yourself soon enough, won't you? But you're welcome here, and for the moment, this room is all yours."

"Thank you," Ternyp breathed, moving his trembling hands to his sides. He continued to lie still as Bulma entered, breathing steady and deep, but clearly not sleeping. She came to a halt at the side of the bed, cursing herself for not bringing in a chair for visitors. She would have Vegeta move one in later; perhaps an arm chair from the living room. That could probably do with a whole new make-over anyway, since she was going to be renovating and she needed to show that she was moving on with her life after her anticipated break-up.

She wasn't going to raise that subject yet, though. Krillen had recommended waiting a few days before making any big decisions, and she was going to follow his advice, even if she wasn't really giving Vegeta the opportunity to tell his side of the story. He had been skirting around the issue of his disappearances anyway, so she didn't feel like she owed him an ear. An earful, however, was another matter.

"How are you feeling today?" Bulma asked, wandering over to the window and peering into her backyard. Her luxurious lap pool was empty, sitting forlorn amongst the brickwork, watched over by her similarly unoccupied sunning chairs and a gazebo. Lamentably, all of those things brought with them memories of her relationship with Vegeta – the delectable image of him in drenched board-shorts, playing with Trunks while she worked on her tan. The gazebo where they had all played cards during one of her many parties. Vegeta was the one to beat at both fish and poker.

"I am…well enough," Ternyp replied, bringing her back to the present. He rubbed his tender stomach, gazing up at the ceiling.

"Did Beerus hurt you?" she enquired, approaching his bed again, noticing the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Just a few punches," he dismissed, "Nothing serious."

"'Just a few punches'?" she repeated, incredulous, "Ternyp, he could have ruptured your internal organs, undoing all of your work at recovering!"

Ternyp shook his head, saying, "He no longer possesses the relative power to break me as before. I should have the strength for another small healing soon."

"That is good news," Bulma replied, only to be distracted by the doorbell, played on a sound-system throughout the house so she could hear it wherever she was.

"That's probably Dr Green," she headed towards the door, "I'll be back in a minute."

Jogging down the hallway, she passed her mother, jigging Bra and asking where Vegeta was, and told her that he was simply 'out'. Panchy had lamented his frequent absences, bewailing that something dreadful might have happened to him, that he might have fallen ill again, but Bulma ignored her in favour of sorting out her latest houseguest.

It was indeed Dr Green waiting impatiently at the door, medical bag clutched to her chest.

"Is he here?" she asked urgently.

"Yes, he's in the room at the back of the house, on the right."

Dr Green gave a brisk nod, requesting Vegeta to fly over to Capsule Corp. Headquarters to retrieve some equipment from the medical team's storage.

"I'm afraid not, Dr Green," Bulma replied as she let the lady in, speaking with a little more ice than intended, "He's not available. I'll have to send Trunks over instead."

"I see," Dr Green gave her in inquisitive look, but otherwise made no comment as she handed her a list, "These are the items I need from them. The nurse on duty will be able to direct Trunks to the proper equipment."

"Right," Bulma answered, taking the proffered paper and slipping it into her pocket, "I'll take this to him now."

As Dr Green disappeared down the hall, Bulma wondered what the friendly doctor, who had grown rather fond of Vegeta, would think of the startling revelations. It was surprising that she had not mentioned the morning paper, but perhaps she did not read it, or else had been on shift since the early morning.

Bulma found her son in his bedroom, glaring at his homework as he sat at the desk. He stabbed a textbook viciously with his scissors as she watched on.

"Trunks?"

"What?" he grouched.

"I have a favour to ask of you. Ternyp's just been transferred to the lower floor, and we need some help relocating the equipment he needs."

Trunks let out a huff of air, pulling himself out of his chair.

"Fine," he answered, "What and where?"

"You'll find them at Capsule Corp. Headquarters, at the nurse's station. Ask her what to look for," she answered, giving him the list.

After a quick, confusion-filled glance at the paper, Trunks headed to the window, wrenching it open and leaping out into the afternoon sky.

Sighing, Bulma returned the way she had come, wondering about her son's behaviour. Although he has always demonstrated more of his father's attitude than she wanted, this moody demeanour was unlike him. He was usually more like a younger child than one in adolescence, and she was disappointed to see the teenage years finally showing themselves through the catalyst of his father's betrayal. It must have been a heavy blow to him to learn about that. Trunks admired his father and wanted to grow up to be just like him. He had always been like that, even when Vegeta had not been a particularly active father and a terrible role model.

Now Trunks' starry-eyed understanding of his father had been shattered, and with it his world. Nothing would be the same from now on. He would never be able to look at Vegeta the same way again, might drift away from him, even become estranged. Trunks had seemed extremely angry with his father when he put the dots together himself and agreed with her assertion.

What would a separation do to their family? But what would continued co-habitation, with all the stress and loathing that would precipitate, do instead?

Putting the question out of her mind for the moment, unable to deal with the idea of separation yet, and the decisions that entailed, Bulma headed down to see Ternyp. She couldn't believe how far she was getting with this mentally; even in the aftermath of Vegeta's relapse with Babidi, she had not managed to kick him out of the house for good.

No, she only succeeded in removing him from the bed, and this for a number of months.

The atmosphere had been toxic, charged with fury and guilt, heated with the words which flew from their mouths unchecked (although, mostly from hers). It had been a nightmare for Trunks, she had heard later from her mother, and she was ashamed to realise she hadn't thought much about his welfare when punishing Vegeta. Neither parent had revealed the truth of his reversal to Trunks, so he had been totally in the dark regarding why his parents were fighting. With Bulma warring with Vegeta, ignoring and lambasting him depending on her mood, and Vegeta both concerned with wining back her favour, and unaware of the developmental needs of human children, Trunks had fallen into the care of his grandparents during those hostile months.

That wouldn't be happening again.

She would find some way to make this as undisruptive and peaceful for the sake of her children, including keeping her home open to Vegeta if need be. It wasn't as if he could host the children at his own house like other divorced or separated couples did. She knew he could survive well enough outside of civilisation, and didn't feel guilty about kicking him out, but if Vegeta insisted on partial custody she wouldn't object him, and she would not allow her children to live in the wild with him.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

She was still angry, still incredibly angry, but a day had passed and she had used the time to cool off a little. She had perhaps been too hasty to dismiss his explanations. His words from that morning to her father had continued to confuse her throughout the day, making her wonder if there wasn't more to his story of secrets.

Yet, she wasn't sure she was prepared to continue a marital relationship with someone who did not trust her. Even if what he was doing was completely innocent, and it didn't sound in the least like it was, the secrets bothered her immensely. She should have insisted on him coming clean to begin with, that's what she should have done. But the doctors had warned her of behavioural problems, and she wasn't sure it was best for him to tell her everything at the time. She had been worried about trauma, determining that she would investigate on her own to find the truth.

She had been too enamoured with him overall to realise exactly what that secretive behaviour indicated about their relationship. Hadn't been willing to consider in her own mind the implications. That he didn't trust her, after so many years together. That he wouldn't disclose things to her even as she opened up her heart to him.

Maybe if his unexplained behaviours had continued along the same line she would have continued to forgive him his silence, have continued to pursue the matter by other means. But his vanishing act went too far. It reminded her of those terrible days when they had begun their relationship, circling around each other like sharks, playing chicken with the other party's feelings, unwilling to commit to anything until an accident changed it all.

Vegeta hadn't wanted to get too close to her in those days, even though his cultural upbringing meant that she was not a 'casual fling' to him like he had been for her. She wasn't sure how he considered their relationship, bearing in mind that Vegeta despised the idea of polluting his royal lineage with a half-breed, waxing eloquent on the way his father would react, how he would have been exiled or executed for such a brazen and sacrilegious offence.

But despite the fact that their relationship had meant something to him, he had been prone to disappearing for long or short stints at a time, depending on his mood, returning expecting nothing to have changed. After settling in with them again following the fight with Cell and his future son's death, Vegeta had dropped that behaviour, staying with them full-time even as he often retreated to some isolated corners to have some solitude.

It might simply be that Vegeta had gone back to his old habits. But that just raised more questions, first and foremost being 'why'. She didn't know why he had disappeared on her all those years ago, so she really couldn't guess what might be causing it now. If he merely wanted time alone, then why hide that fact? Why allow her to continue to upbraid him over an affair if that was all he was doing?

"You seem troubled," Ternyp commented as she entered his room, Dr Green at his bedside examining a thermometer. He was lying back on the bed, IV-line plugged into his arm with his feed-bag beside it.

"Your temperature is a little elevated," the doctor commented, placing thermometer and blood-pressure cuff in her medical bag.

"Unfortunately, I can't give you any medication for that," she continued, "so I just ask that you rest. Keep doing those exercises you were shown this morning, and try out your legs from time to time. Drink plenty of water," Dr Green pulled out a notebook, "and have your feed bag changed every two hours. I'll send more over later. Apart from that, rest, and when you have the ability to heal yourself, focus on your kidneys and your liver. I don't want to have to put you on dialysis, but if your bloods return the same reading tomorrow I'll have to book you in."

Ternyp nodded.

"After that, your digestive track needs to come next, then your limbs. Tail last."

"Oh, that one isn't a problem," Ternyp replied, rolling over awkwardly and pushing himself up on his knees, "I can simply rip myself a new one."

Bulma barked out a laugh, Ternyp throwing her a look of confusion as Dr Green blinked at him, saying, "I'm sorry?"

Reaching behind him, Ternyp squeezed his hands into the folds of his gown. There was a small 'pop', followed by a squelchy sound as a second tail appeared. The saiyan pulled out his injured appendage, presenting it to the doctor.

"Oh my," she whispered, taking it to examine, "that was quite something. Can you do that with all of your limbs?"

"Just tails, I'm afraid."

"Alright," Dr Green turned to her employer, "Bulma, I've left the instructions for his care on the table here. I expect that between yourself and Vegeta he'll be in good hands. I'll return to check on him in the morning."

"Thank you," she replied, eyeing the small sheet of paper.

After helping Ternyp back into bed following his failed attempt at walking, legs recovering slower than his hands by the looks of things, Bulma had returned to her home office, safe in the knowledge that Ternyp had a loud buzzer he could press if he needed assistance, although hopefully Vegeta would come home soon so that he could take care of any necessary business.

Including a shower. She hadn't wanted to say anything to Ternyp, but he had rather reeked.

Typing away at an e-mail to a colleague over the cheating scandal, she wondered how it was going to affect her standing, her reputation, and her company. This was the company her father had built from the ground up – she couldn't ruin it! She really ought to have bottled her rage until they reached a more private setting. She shouldn't have let her anger override her senses.

It wasn't just the affair itself that would be damaging, but also the way she had handled it. The newspaper had reported quite correctly that she had yelled at him without allowing him to respond in his defence. It also detailed how she had kicked him in a very sensitive area. Most women would applaud her reaction, but such a violent display would not be beneficial to her reputation as a president, especially in a male-dominated social hierarchy.

Come to think of it, though, it was surprising how much he had reacted to it. In their early years he had laughed in her face when she tried a similar move on him. Later, after she had broken a finger slapping him in a particularly nasty argument over Trunks' upbringing, he had fought his instincts and powered down whenever she went to hit him.

But she hadn't expected to do quite so much damage, even taking that into account.

Hitting send, Bulma stretched her arms above her head, working her fingers and toes. Vegeta and his idiosyncrasies could go hang themselves as far as she was concerned. She wasn't going to focus on them. No, she was going to focus on fixing up one of her older inventions using a new material that…

Vegeta had brought back from space after she had screamed at him over a forgotten anniversary, not that he acknowledged days of celebration which didn't involve the moon.

Huffing at the reminder, Bulma got to work, pulling apart the little device and investigating its innards.

Suddenly, the floor beneath her shuddered, shaking the delicate things on her shelves and forcing Bulma to grip the workbench. Earthquakes not being common in these parts, Bulma exited swiftly as soon as the shaking stopped. The fact that it ceased as quickly as it started merely confirmed her suspicions that this was not a natural disaster.

Stairs disappearing like an escalator beneath her feet, Bulma reached the top level, calling out to whoever might hear her. She found her mother in the kitchen gazing out at the lawn with a smile on her face.

"Mum?"

Panchy turned to her, delight written over her features, "Isn't it lovely? Vegeta and Trunks are sparring again. Look!"

She pointed to two scuffling figures on the lawn, "Trunks is even copying his grandmother's do!"

Trunks was indeed blonde, but she did not believe in the least that the pair were sparring. No, stepping closer she could make out the unbridled fury on Trunk's features, and as she watched, the voices of father and son reached her.

"You bastard!" Now, where had her son learned to swear like that? "How could you do that to Mum?!"

"What are you talking about?!" Vegeta cried back, reaching to block Trunks' attacks, but always a moment too slow. Trunks was pummelling him across the lawn, kicking up grass as he continued his assault.

"You're cheating on her!" Trunks accentuated his accusation with a vicious kick, sending Vegeta sprawling as golden energy swirled around the boy. Vegeta, for his part, was not powered up, and didn't appear to want to do so, taking a defensive stance as he replied, "I have been honourable!"

"Liar!" Trunks screamed, re-entering the fray, feinting right then delivering a mean left hook to Vegeta's jaw, snapping the saiyan's head back. Vegeta raised his arms to block, but Trunks easily threw open his defence, supplying his father with fresh bruises to the abdomen courtesy of his fists.

Stumbling back, clutching at his stomach, Vegeta again called for his son to stop, but Trunks wasn't prepared to listen, re-doubling his efforts to bring down the father he had once admired so much.

"Your mother is mistaken," Vegeta gasped, crying out in pain as Trunks kicked him in the face. So far neither side had launched any ki-attacks, and she, as the bill-payer of a very nice, large house, was incredibly grateful for that. Although, come to think of it, Vegeta wasn't launching any attacks, even in his own defence.

Despite the inaction of his opponent, Trunks did not let up, working out all his frustrations on his father, who merely took it.

"I hate you! How could you do this to us?!"

"My, Trunks is certainly getting into it, isn't he?" Panchy commented, pouring herself a glass of juice.

Fortunately for their lawn, the fight, if it could be called that, did not last much longer, Trunks eventually kicking Vegeta's legs out from underneath him and squatting down on his chest, pinning him.

"What is it you want from me, Trunks?" Vegeta asked in an exhausted voice, not making a move to dislodge his restraints.

"I…" she couldn't see Trunks' face well enough, but it sounded as if he were holding back tears. Hearing him sniffle, Bulma rushed out of the kitchen and through the front door, bounding over the upturned soil.

"Trunks, sweetie," she gasped as she reached the pair, spreading her arms ready for a big hug. Her son was indeed struggling not to cry, eyes red along with his cheeks as he powered down. Beneath him, Vegeta lay in a broken heap, bruises already forming on his face, training suit littered with tears and dirt. He breathed heavily, painfully, moving Trunks up and down slightly with the chest that he sat on.

Glaring at Vegeta, telling him in no uncertain terms that he had brought this upon himself, Bulma wrapping Trunks in a comforting hug, pulling him up and away from the father he was so angry at. Not looking back at Vegeta, she heard him pick himself up, following them inside at an unsteady pace. But she didn't care.

He could suffer.