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.
"Oh my!" Panchy gasped, catching sight of her two favourite boys, hand on her mouth, "You two have certainly worked hard! Let me get you both a nice, cold drink."
Bulma wondered if her mother was being deliberately obtuse as she bustled about the room, trying to prepare a reinvigorating snack and beverage combination for son-in-law and grandson while also cooking dinner. She certainly didn't want to notice anything that might damage her naïve view of the world.
Vegeta hung back in the corner, head low as Bulma seated Trunks at the table. She patted him companionably, telling him that everything would be alright, when she had no idea if that were true.
"Here we are," Panchy declared joyfully as she deposited a cold cordial in front of Trunks and moved towards Vegeta, "This will buck you up."
As Trunks dropped his head in his arms, ignoring the drink, Vegeta took his own with a low 'thank you', downing it in a few gulps.
"Trunks," the mother began, "do you want to go to your bedroom? We can talk there."
"I don't want to talk," he complained, voice muffled by his arms.
"Oh, sweetie," she comforted, hand smoothing his back until he shrugged it off, telling her to leave him alone.
"Trunks…"
He rose to his feet, scrubbing his face as he said, "I want to be alone, okay?"
Glaring fiercely at his father, who was now crouched against the wall in a lonesome pose, Trunks departed, leaving a trail of air fizzing in his wake.
"That boy is growing up so fast!" Panchy gushed, handing Vegeta a hastily prepared sandwich with more contents than he deserved. Bulma's husband quietly thanked his mother-in-law, giving the food a long look before letting out a huff of air and biting into it. He chewed slowly, thoughts lost as he gazed steadily at the table.
She wondered what he was thinking, face solemn and guarded, what he was feeling. She wondered if he was regretting his treatment of her, his rejection of their bond and the trust necessitated by it.
"Vegeta, dear," Panchy ventured, "You seem a little down."
He looked up, blinking at her before shooting Bulma an inquiring look. She shook her head, indicating that Panchy had not been told.
"Is there something the matter?" Panchy continued.
Vegeta let out an explosive sigh, folding his arms as he considered the question.
"Your daughter has jumped to some conclusions –"
"You're the one keeping secrets from me!" Bulma cut him off, causing him to cringe.
"Oooh…secrets!" Panchy beamed, "I love secrets! Is it for her birthday? Oh, but you shouldn't tell me if it is."
"I highly doubt that," Bulma countered drily, knowing that Vegeta would not risk their marriage over something that innocent, especially since he didn't really understand the significance of birthdays in the first place.
"Listen, Mother, could you tell—"
"Would you look what the cat dragged in," came a mocking voice from the doorway. Vegeta dropped the rest of his sandwich on the tiles, bolting upright to face the speaker.
Beerus.
"Nice of you to join us, Vegeta, and I'm very happy to see that no preparation is necessary on my part," he looked Vegeta up and down with a nod of approval, "My congratulations to your opponent. But you and I have business elsewhere."
He darted forward faster than her eyes could follow, appearing beside Vegeta was a hand on the scruff of his neck.
"Oh my!" Panchy leant heavily against the servery, hand on her chest.
With a sadistic grin, Beerus pushed Vegeta forward roughly, frog-marching him down the corridor towards the back of the house, Bulma following out of curiosity. Not out of concern.
Beerus shoved Vegeta a few more times during the journey, prompting cries of surprise and pain from the injured saiyan.
"Gemuse!" Beerus roared, smashing open the door with such force that Bulma thought she might need another room fixed up.
"Look who I brought!"
Bulma snuck into the room behind him as Beerus marched Vegeta to the bed where Ternyp reposed, blinking in the dull, late afternoon light.
"Your prince!" Beerus announced, forcing Vegeta to his knees and pushing his head down in a position of subjugation.
Ternyp's arms shook, face twisted as he struggled to rise, refusing to rely on mechanics to do the job.
"And also," Beerus continued, flashing Ternyp a malicious smile, "my insurance!"
"Your…insurance?" Ternyp asked as he assessed his prince, "Does he come with a premium?"
Ternyp jerked as Vegeta let out a cry of pain, his arm being twisted behind his back.
"I should think before I speak if I were you, Gemuse," Beerus warned.
Ternyp gulped, "Understood."
"I have just demonstrated to you what awaits if you misbehave. If you decide to return to your marauding ways, then I will harm Vegeta here. And Vegeta," he looked down at his captive, "I will target your wife if I find you absent."
Vegeta gasped, jolting, head swivelling to face her with wide, alarmed eyes.
"Yes, I see that registered."
"There is no need to make such threats, Beerus," Ternyp interjected, "I am not the kind of man you think I am."
"You are not a man at all," Beerus objected, "You are…whatever the word for a saiyan male is-"
"A'hij."
"-and as such I cannot trust your word. I need a guarantee, and that comes in the form of your prince."
"Please, Beerus," Ternyp beseeched, "Don't involve him in this. Your indignation lies with me and this body."
"Yes, that is so," Beerus agreed, "But once you recover I will have no chance against you. Even now my attacks are going far less damage. I'll need someone weaker to act as collateral, if only to prevent you from attacking me over my treatment of you."
"All that could be water under the bridge if you would only let go of your grudge," Ternyp replied.
"Grudge?! Grudge?! How dare you suggest that my anger over my mother's violation at your hands is a mere grudge?!"
"I didn't mean to spurn your experiences, but Beerus, you must let it go. For your own sake if nothing else."
"I will never forget!" he punctuated this by slamming Vegeta's head into the bedframe, making Ternyp wince as the thud echoed throughout the room.
"I did not say that," Ternyp clarified, "I merely suggested that you come to terms with your suffering. Clearly my pain is not going to help you overcome it. The answer lies with you."
"Actually, killing you was rather cathartic," Beerus objected.
"The more you give into those feelings, the more they will fester within you," Ternyp gazed at his coercer gravely.
"You sound as if you speak from experience," Beerus hissed, "Have you ever come face to face with someone who took your own mother away from you?"
"He's met Frieza, yes," Vegeta was the one who answered.
"Frieza?" Ternyp questioned, "What does Frieza have to do with this?"
Bulma recalled that the saiyans had been told that an asteroid had destroyed their planet, not their overlord. Ternyp not only did not know about Beerus' involvement, but was also unaware of Frieza's culpability.
"Nothing!" Beerus snapped, punching Vegeta hard in the kidneys, making him roar with pain.
"I warned you," he hissed threateningly in Vegeta's ear, to which the prince responded that he hadn't revealed the information specifically forbidden.
"What are—?" Ternyp began.
"Don't ask," Vegeta answered urgently, earning a blow to the ear for his trouble.
"Moving on!" Beerus announced, "I am merely here to give you my ultimatum, namely, that the life and safety of your prince here depends on your good behaviour. That is all!"
Shoving Vegeta to the ground and stomping on his head, eliciting a cry of pain, Beerus strode purposefully from the room. Bulma hastened to the side to let him past, not troubled in the slightest at the sight of Vegeta's discomfort.
Nope.
Absent any irate gods, Ternyp lowered himself back down, relying on his arms rather than his abdominal muscles.
"Are you alright, Keh Gresh?" he asked the ceiling, while Vegeta replied, "Fine" to the floor. He rolled over, staring up, eye-line parallel to Ternyp's, giving a long sigh. She could see that his bruises were beginning to develop, blue and black hues decorating his skin and blood dried at his lip.
"Why don't you heal yourself, Vegeta?" she asked, curiosity beating out her desire to avoid him.
"I thought Trunks should see the result," he answered.
"Trunks?" Ternyp questioned.
"He attacked me over false allegations of intrigue."
"Oh."
"I'll see you later, Ternyp," she farewelled, voice cold as she glared at her husband. Turning, heels clicking satisfyingly on the tiles in the corridor, she retraced her steps to the kitchen, wondering if her mother needed any help.
"Woah, Vegeta!" Merus exclaimed, dinner dripping off his fork as he stared, "What happened to you?"
"I did," Trunks responded callously.
"What? You were sparring with Vegeta?" Merus questioned, turning to the prince, "Vegeta, you shouldn't –"
"Quiet," Vegeta hissed, looking sideways at Beerus, prompting Merus to close his mouth with a snap.
"So," Merus coughed into his hand, "Excellent work, Trunks. I'm sure you made your father very proud."
Trunks pushed his plate forward, standing up and moving to abandon the half-finished meal.
"Trunks," Vegeta warned, pointing with his fork, "Finish your dinner. Then you may indulge your pique."
"Don't tell me what to do," Trunks growled back, wrapping his power around him as he stormed off.
"Trunks—!" Bulma began, only to be cut off by a savage order to be left alone, provoking Vegeta to reprimand the boy, shouting into his deaf ears as he disappeared inside.
"Trouble in paradise, Vegeta?" Beerus questioned idly.
"None of your business!" her estranged husband spat back.
"Daughter going to abandon you next?" Beerus suggested, eyeing the little girl being fed by her indulgent grandfather.
"After all, I can see you're having problems with your wife. Although," he paused, "that isn't anything out of the ordinary for you, is it?"
The saiyan threw an insolent glare at the deity, before returning to his meal, shovelling it into his mouth with less manners than he usually employed.
The dinner continued in silence for some minutes before Bra began to grow agitated, and Bulma stood to take her inside. She wondered if the little girl could sense the tension in the household and was reacting to it. She had been miserable all day, and throughout the previous one, although Bulma had initially put that down to missing story-time.
But she didn't know that Vegeta actually had missed story-time the day before. She had merely assumed as much from Bra's attitude, but her husband may well have arrived home before setting out to find Bulma. He certainly implied as much in claiming that his mother-in-law had accidentally kissed him.
Marvelling at how big and heavy her daughter had grown, Bulma ascended the staircase, cooing gently to the restless baby. But as much as she wanted to assure her child that everything would be alright, she wasn't certain of that. Bra was too young to understand break-ups; she wouldn't comprehend the magnitude of what Vegeta had done, nor Bulma's ire with him. She wouldn't understand why her doting parents were fighting, why her brother was furious, why she might be seeing less of her father, if Bulma had her way.
The finicky process of changing a squirming Bra into her nightwear over, Bulma laid her daughter down to sleep in her cot, placing her favourite teddy by her side. It was a monkey that Vegeta had initially found quite insulting, but hadn't manage to entice the baby into parting with it, only making her want the toy more when he removed it for offending him. Giving her daughter a big kiss on the top of her head, she bade her goodnight and exited, switching off the light with a soft click.
Passing by her son's room, Bulma pressed her ear to the door, listening for the sounds of distress. All that reached her was a familiar cry of frustration, followed by some video game terms as Trunks distracted himself from his woes. Leaving the boy to it, Bulma returned to the outdoor setting, finding her guests and husband absent and parents packing up.
As Pancy took an armful of dirty dishes inside, Dr Brief cornered his daughter, speaking to her in a low voice.
"I notice that you and Vegeta are still fighting."
"Yes," she answered stiffly.
"I never managed to speak with you about my conversation with him this morning," he said, looking about him as he continued, "He denies having an affair, although he claims that your mother kissed him."
"He intimated as much to me as well," Bulma responded.
"Yes, and there is a very simple way to verify his story. But he also indicated that he might be involved in some criminal activities."
"I heard, Dad. I was eavesdropping."
"Oh. Bulma, that's incredibly rude."
"Vegeta's been keeping secrets from me!" she bristled, "I have every right to nose around!"
"Dear, is something the matter?" her mother reappeared with a spray bottle and kitchen towelling.
"Mum," Bulma began, "this might seem like a very odd question, but did you kiss Vegeta?"
"As a matter of fact I did!" she beamed.
"No, like, on the lips."
"Yes," Panchy simpered, "I'm ever so jealous of you, Bulma. He was so terribly embarrassed. The blush on his cheeks was adorable! I wish you would blush like that, Pumpkin," she directed to her husband as Bulma considered her mother's words.
So Vegeta had been telling the truth about that. He hadn't been lying, the main piece of evidence towards him having an affair disappearing in a puff of smoke at Panchy's words.
Untoward behaviour was looking more and more likely. Giving her father a significant look as the couple spoke, Bulma headed inside in search of her own husband. After finding the living room empty, including of his bedding, she decided to try Ternyp's room. The handle not possessing a lock, it turned easily under her fingers, allowing her entry.
Beside the special bed was a jumble of blankets and a cushion, as well as a pile of clothing that Vegeta had managed to retrieve from his drawers – mostly singlets and workout suits. His armour, boots and gloves would still be in the wardrobe, along with the button shirts that made up the bulk of his casual attire, Vegeta eschewing the likes of T-shirts for some reason.
But there was no one in the room.
Deciding that she would likely find her two missing saiyans in the showers, she set off towards the pool area, with its adjacent bathroom building. The male side had a series of open showers which would be perfect for washing a convalescing person in, which was one of the reasons she had chosen the back room in the first place.
She could hear the rush of water as she approached the block, located not far from the back door for convenience, and stood just outside. There were no voices as the water vacillated, steam causing the air to waver around her. Were it just Vegeta within, she would have poked her head in, but she respected Ternyp's privacy. So instead, she waited, reminiscing on times long passed, when she had invaded Vegeta's own washing sessions with no thought for his privacy or embarrassment. The look on his face had been priceless, red with shame and indignation every time, even though as a married couple they came to learn every contour of their partner's body. And she had to wonder if it was that body which had drawn her to him, more than anything else. If lust had formed a significant part of her attraction to him, as it had done in their first years while she was recovering emotionally from her break-up with Yamcha, not realising, she thought, that Vegeta wanted more commitment from her.
That stint had ended worse than she cared to admit, the toxic cocktail of her own shoving, Vegeta's unfamiliar cultural norms and failure to explain his intentions, the unexpected pregnancy and her refusal to terminate when Vegeta insisted it was his legal obligation to.
But he hadn't been able to force the issue, perhaps reluctant himself at the prospect, and remained with her a little longer, atmosphere curdled with tension before something had erupted between them. She understood from his later comments that she had committed a huge faux pas, rejecting his care and protection as she sought comfort elsewhere.
They hadn't been agreed on exclusivity, but after Vegeta no one else could compare.
Neither one understood the force of the prince's jealousy, given that saiyan marriages were rare, most partnerships not being monogamous, and they were not even married, although she later learned she had been partially engaged just by coupling with him, which was certainly news. The situation had detonated into a vicious fight, words flying about the room as both tried to injure the other verbally. Even after Vegeta moved out of the compound and into the room below his gravity chamber he had tried once more to win back her favour.
A human would kneel and present their beloved with a diamond ring, proposing marriage quite clearly. Apparently the saiyan ritual was less straight-forward. It began, like humans, with permission from the parents/guardians/superior officers. Then there was a coupling. Then the stronger or higher ranked of the pair, if it were a marriage involving elites, which was most marriages in the later years of saiyan history, would present their chosen with the greatest kill they could find.
A large predator, a criminal of the state, or a love rival. Apparently the latter was to prove that the individual in question was the stronger and more worthy of sharing the duty of procreation. It was common in marriages as well during the mating season in general.
At least Vegeta had the sense not to attack her lovers, something he had confessed to considering later when he had explained to her the reasons behind his actions. No, instead he had dumped the largest and most powerful prey he could find, a genetically modified version of the Tyrannosaurus Rex used by Russian forces in their international campaigns, on her doorstep and expected to be lauded for it. Apparently, shrieking at him to get it 'the Hell off' her property was the most extreme faux pas to such a gesture one could imagine. Even one rejecting the proposal was expected to taste part of it as a token consideration. Vegeta had been too gobsmacked at the reaction to obey her, and having stormed off into his gravity chamber, she enlisted the services of Goku and his family to remove (read: eat) the carcass. Inviting a rival (love rival or not) to eat the gift instead was probably the worst insult that could be crafted in these circumstances. Needless to say that when the prince found out he had hit the roof.
Vegeta had not returned after that until the fight with the androids, and she had initially been grateful for his absence. But as time went by she began to miss him again, or more correctly, his perfect body. No one else had been able to satisfy her since she had bedded with him.
She wondered if she would be facing such a dry spell again. Or if she should even bother with the dating scene. She wasn't getting any younger, although she had tried, but she deserved someone to cherish her.
Finally the taps shut off, and shuffling could be heard from within, likely the pair donning fresh clothing. When the duo exited, Vegeta was wearing his usual sleeping attire, while Ternyp was clad in the gown that Jaco had never asked to be returned. She could see two casts poking out at the bottom, while the constricting items on his arms remained.
She gulped as she took in the contours of her husband's muscles, moving as he carried his burden in his arms. Lust had certainly been a large part of her attraction to him, of that she was certain. It had brought them together, had prompted her to forgive his failures, to overlook his flaws. But there was more than that now, more than an empty obsession with his body. She had grown to love him as a person, for all his erroneous ways and chequered history.
She loved him.
But the question was, did he love her? Could their relationship survive the secrets, the lack of trust?
Vegeta did not speak as he led the way to Ternyp's room, ignoring her without any of the ice which had accompanied her similar acts towards him. He simply didn't appear to have anything to say.
As they walked she considered the similarities between prince and god; the magnificent crest of hair lying soaked and flat against his back, many of the facial features, his exterior form. She wondered again if the royals had been descended from their god like human monarchies had claimed.
But that line of questioning could wait.
"Vegeta," she ventured as he deposited his charge on the bed, "you were telling the truth about your kiss with Mum."
"I was," he answered, stepping back to face her, gazing at her gravely.
"So…are you having an affair?" she came to rest in front of him, examining his face for any signs of deception.
"I am not." He seemed genuine.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Why do you not trust me? After all our years together, why is my word not enough?"
"Because you obviously don't trust me!" she bit out, gritting her teeth, "All the lies, all the secrets! I need you to tell the truth, Vegeta. I need you to tell me where you keep disappearing to!"
"Nowhere."
"Vegeta…" she growled.
"Even if I told you, would you believe me?" he countered, "Considering how you have reacted to my claims thus far, including my testimony regarding your mother, I highly doubt it."
"You haven't given me reason to trust you! You have insisted on avoiding my questions at every turn!"
"You did not seem to mind, before," he objected.
"I was warned about psychological trauma. I didn't want to upset you. But I think we can rule that out. You're a tough guy, Vegeta. You can handle it."
"I have seen the strongest fall prey to their own minds," he whispered, "But you are right, I will triumph over any mental distress. It's you that's the problem."
"Me?" she squeaked.
"Yes. I can't lose you, Bulma."
"Well, you're doing a fantastic job of keeping me," she spat, "If you want to maintain our relationship, then you can tell me where you've been."
"I…can't."
"Vegeta…" she snarled.
"I really can't tell you," he looked down at his feet, "Please just trust me on this."
"I've already told you I don't trust you!" she exclaimed, "Where have you been?! What have you been doing?! How do I know you haven't broken your word to me on being a 'good guy' now?! You implied to my father that you had returned to your erroneous ways!"
"I have not!" he rejected, but his eyes seemed shaken.
"And why should I believe you?" she hissed, "Why should I, when you have done nothing but bend the truth and try to deceive me?!"
"You know I cannot lie outright to you. I am unconvincing."
"You're unconvincing now," she objected, "Just what are you so intent on hiding from me that you threaten our marriage to conceal it? What could be more important to you than that? Or am I not important to you anymore, nor your children?"
"You are my life!" he cried, "My world!"
"Then why does this secret matter more?!"
"Because I don't want to lose you!" he roared, clutching at her hand, gripping it tightly.
She snatched it back, levelling a glare that could cut diamond, "So that's how it is. The truth is so terrible that you are convinced I will leave you over it."
"Bulma…" his voice shook with the gravity of his despair.
"What have you done? How have you damned yourself this time?"
He hung his head.
"Why must you always revert, after all we have been through and done together? Why can't you be satisfied with what you have?"
"I…"
"Will you always return to the evil within you? Are you so lost?"
By this point he was quaking, confirming to her more than words could that this was his exact fear.
"I," he whispered almost inaudibly, "am evil itself."
She stood for a moment, watching him capitulate in on himself, contemplating the hands which had dealt so many wrongs to existence. Watched as he could not look her in the eye, skull weighted with shame and dipped forward. Watched as he condemned himself, hating himself yet obviously not able to prevent his return to evil even after attempting to replenish the universe during his fight with Moro.
But she did not feel any sympathy for him, turning on her heel and leaving him alone with his demons.
She had thought he had changed.