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 was relieved that the saiyan she was avoiding was absent from Ternyp's room when she entered to check on him that morning. The instructions ordered her or Vegeta to observe him every few hours or so to make sure he was alright, and since Vegeta might have been out that morning, although the presence of his caller told her he was not in North City like he was supposed to be, she decided she would make sure proper protocols were being followed. She hoped she could spend some time with Ternyp before Vegeta returned. She was growing quite fond of the other saiyan.
Making her way inside and switching on the light, Bulma found her guest fast asleep, tucked in with the covers up to his shoulders, gentle, even breathing filling the room. After watching him sleep for a few moments, she approached the bed, moving to examine the bags which supplied him with water and nutrients.
Both needed changing.
He shifted a little as she adjusted the stands, readying them for replacement. She could see large lumps where his legs were supposed to be, the lower half of both covered in casts. Something else, likely a tail, squirmed about by his feet as he frowned but did not wake.
Retrieving the fluid and feed bags, Bulma slowly switched them over, not having performed the procedure before. Vegeta was likely an expert at it by now, but he was absent, which was strange considering how considerate he was being with Ternyp.
"Hmm?" came an inquisitive sound from the bed as Bulma retrieved Ternyp's book from the bedside table, wincing as she recognised her husband's handwriting.
"It's just me, Bulma," she assured the saiyan, whose eyes were blinking rapidly as he woke, "I'm here to check on you."
"Oh. Is it morning already?"
"It sure is! Now, I need to check your vitals and your blood pressure. Can I have a wrist, please?"
He showed her his most accessible arm, with a cast on the lower half instead of an IV-line in the elbow, and indicated where the cast ended just at the bottom of his hand.
"Oh," she said eloquently, "I guess it'll have to be your neck, then."
Leaning over she placed a timid set of fingers above his jugular, counting the pulse as she watched the second-hand move. She recalled how not so long ago Beerus had done the exact same thing to intimidate Ternyp in an episode which had led to the re-emergence of injuries in his limbs.
"Good," she commented, writing down the number 65, "now I need to check your blood pressure."
That too was found to be average, hovering around the same as Vegeta had recorded the previous day, causing Bulma to remark that he seemed to be doing a lot better.
"Dr Green will be pleased."
"No, she won't be. I was supposed to heal my liver and kidneys last night to restore my blood before she arrived."
"Why didn't you?"
Ternyp hesitated, reaching over for the remote and dropping it, wincing as if hung from the bed, swinging like a pendulum.
"You want to be propped up?" she gathered.
"Yes, please," he responded shyly.
Ternyp being raised to a more comfortable position for talking, he answered her earlier question with a simple, "Something came up."
She could only think of one thing it could possibly be: Beerus.
He was certainly going to pay, and she had the perfect plan in mind. And it involved Ternyp himself.
The saiyan's eyes were closed, and he drew a deep, long breath.
"Are you…?"
Letting it out, Ternyp declared that he had healed the requisite organs, so they would simply have to wait to see if he would improve in time for his check-up.
"Oh, that's good. I'm sure you'll be right as rain in no time. Just a few more healings left, right?"
That sounded weird, but she continued undeterred, "I wanted to ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Do you…ah, do you miss the saiyans?"
"My comrades, not particularly, but the rest of the saiyans as a species?" he shook his head, "Not a day goes by when I do not mourn their loss. And that seems so selfish of me, considering their subjugation of many galaxies."
"It's not selfish," she objected, "it's only natural for you to feel that way. They were your family and friends, your kind. You should grieve for them."
He nodded, gaze far-off.
"Do you know how they died?"
Ternyp frowned at her.
"Surely the prince has told you?" he asked, "They were killed by an asteroid, which destroyed the planet. Although," he paused, "there were many of us capable of eliminating such a threat, the king not least of which. Certainly if the inhabitants all assumed the Great Ape form an asteroid should not have vanquished them. Prince Vegeta always suspected the explanation, saying his father would have prevented such a catastrophe."
"I'm sure he would have," Bulma agreed, "You see, it wasn't an asteroid which destroyed them, it was a deliberate annihilation."
"What?" Ternyp gasped.
"Frieza was the one to carry it out, but he was acting under orders from Beerus."
She waited with bated breath to see how he would react. Maybe she ought to have postponed telling him until he recovered fully, but the opportunity had been right there for the taking, with no one else present, least of all her husband.
"Beerus…" he breathed, "Beerus…ordered my people to be eliminated. His hatred did not stop at me alone, he turned his anger on the First One's creation as well."
"Yes."
Ternyp simply looked up at the ceiling for some time, showing none of the volcanic fire that Vegeta had displayed upon hearing the news.
"Ternyp?"
"Yes?"
"Aren't you angry?"
"Yes," he admitted, "Yes, I am angry. But do I have any right to be? Beerus was just acting on his own sense of justice, and in doing so rid the universe of a people considered a scourge, Frieza's most ruthless soldiers. Of course I am angry, I want…but…" he let out a long sigh.
"You want? Don't you want revenge?"
"Revenge? I don't…" he frowned, "Listen, Bulma, I don't have the right to take the life of someone who has committed a speciocide. I have done the same thing, and if faced by a lone survivor I would not allow them to take my life in recompense, no matter how just it would be."
"You've…committed speciocide?" she froze, feeling cold all of a sudden in the temperate room.
He gave her a quizzical look as he responded, "How can you not be aware of that? I was in Frieza's employ, and it was one of his most common and pleasurable activities. The saiyans were the best soldiers he had at purging planets ready for sale, particularly with our Great Ape form."
"But you…you didn't have a choice," she defended weakly, "If you hadn't, he would have killed you and someone else would have done it."
"Indeed, but in death my soul would have remained innocent," he frowned, "Or not."
"What do you mean?"
"I am branded, Bulma, evil before even my birth, because of the soul that lives within me. The soul the First One made, vile from the beginning of time itself."
She shook her head, "You aren't responsible for the things he's done. Don't listen to Beerus, okay? Those things that Gemuse did, even with the hands that you now possess, are not your fault. You're a new person!"
"It is nice of you to say that, Bulma, but it is false pleasantries to me. My soul is my soul, no matter if I did not remember my past life. And surely, given what I became under Frieza, I am bound to be evil no matter what, because my inner being is like that."
"You aren't an evil person, Ternyp!" she objected, not able to connect such a notion to the man in front of her.
"You do not know me, Bulma. And it is best that you continue in your ignorance."
"You…Vegeta said you didn't like to do what you did…that you…"
"That I was a coward? I'll admit, I did not revel in bloodshed like my fellows, but…how I felt does not excuse my actions. And surely they twisted me. They certainly twisted the prince, and given time, I would have gone the same way. Because of the darkness in my soul, it would have been inevitable."
"I'm sorry you feel that way. You're not destined to be evil, no one is."
"Isn't that what you intimated to the prince last night?"
"I…that's different! He doesn't have to be evil, he just keeps going back to it! It's not the same thing! I don't believe for a second that his soul is inevitably wicked, just that, because of his upbringing, he'll never escape it."
"My upbringing was the very same, Bulma," he gazed at her solemnly.
"Look, can we not talk about Vegeta? Can we talk about something else?"
"As you wish. But I do believe you ought to patch things up with him. He cares for you dearly."
"I don't want to hear it. You're biased," she protested.
"And you are not?" he raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not biased! I'm thinking very clearly!"
"You seemed very insistent on condemning him, even though there are a multitude of other possible explanations."
"Do you have to take his side?" Bulma whined.
"I am legally obliged to, yes."
"Then you are biased!" she challenged.
"I did not object to your assertion, I merely indicated that you are also prejudiced against your husband. You should not be so quick to come to negative conclusions about your spouse."
"I'm not taking marital advice from a hermit saiyan," she responded flatly.
Thankfully Dr Green chose that moment to arrive in search of her patient.
"Leave me alone I said!"
Bulma looked up from her pre-emptive attempts to teach her daughter to count, holding fast to a toy giraffe as she listened for more words from her son.
"I don't want to talk to you!"
"Trunks, I am your father and you will not speak to me that way," Vegeta's voice warned.
"I'll speak to you in whatever way I want! You've lost the right to reprimand me when your behaviour's been far worse!"
If that were true, then Vegeta had never had the right to scold Trunks, which was unfortunate as he had always done such a wonderful job of it, better than her at least. Trunks never seemed to take her threats seriously.
"Trunks, I have already told you that your accusations have no basis. I wish to speak with you, and you are obliged to permit me entry."
There was no way Bra would be able to understand such complex speech, but she turned in the direction of the voices, curious eyes searching as she waddled over to the edge of her playpen, grasping the bars. Once her destination was reached, she rattled her prison, calling out for "Da!"
"Yes, your father is talking," she wished she could say it with more enthusiasm.
"Language!" Vegeta cried to whatever Trunks had responded with, Bulma glad that she, and likely Bra, had not heard.
"Ma! Da!" Bra pointed at the door, indicating clearly that she wanted to join her father.
"What would you know about swear words anyway?! This isn't your first language!"
Bulma couldn't help but chuckle as a memory materialised, when Vegeta had sworn for the first time, not understanding the connotations of expletives and said the 's' word in front of her mother, causing the poor woman to faint. Apparently, swear words just translated literally for him. They were simply words, which had led to some frantic and difficult education when he began to stay full-time with Trunks.
"I know enough to realise that they are inappropriate, and a boy of your age should not be using them."
"Whatever. Will you get lost?"
"No, I am perfectly familiar with my surroundings."
He was just playing with Trunks on that one; Bulma knew that he understood what the phrase meant, although he had been confused the first time she had used it.
"Dad!"
"Yes?" the prince answered, feigning innocence.
"Go away!"
"No."
Hearing Trunks snarl unintelligibly, she decided it was time to intervene. Sweeping her daughter out of the playpen, Bra babbling with delight at having her demands met, Bulma exited the room and stepped out into the hall. Further down, she could see Vegeta hovering outside his son's door, poised and calm as Trunks seethed.
"Da! Da!" Bra cried happily, reaching for him as Bulma approached. Gently, tenderly, he took the little girl from her, holding her close, Bra clapping her hands in glee as Trunks remarked, "Traitor."
It was hard to be angry with Vegeta when he held Bra in his arms, a tactic he had not employed frequently, preferring not to involve the children in their arguments. It was hard to imagine that this saiyan, who looked like a doting father, was the killer of worlds, a mass murderer, and someone who had recently come out of retirement from his evil ways.
"She's too young to understand," Trunks snarled, "But I can comprehend what you did to Mum. What you did to our family. How could you? And how can you hold Bra like that after you betrayed the marriage that anchors her?"
"Actually, Trunks," Bulma interjected, cheeks heating up, "I…may have been mistaken on that."
"What?" her son stared at her, wide-eyed.
"Your father…is most likely not having an affair. Although he hasn't come clean on what he is doing."
"But…he's been disappearing. And blocking me out. He must be hiding something!"
"Yes," Vegeta answered, "I am hiding something from you, and it is not your place, as my child, to question the decisions I make on your behalf. You are better off not knowing the truth, and that is all I will disclose on the matter."
"You mean…the knowledge is dangerous," Trunks clarified, then he gasped, turning starry-eyed, "Are you a spy?!"
Vegeta gave him a dead-pan look at the enthusiasm, but didn't contradict it.
"Wait, don't answer that," Trunks waved his hands hastily, "If you were a spy, you would deny it, and if you weren't you would say 'no' as well, so that tells me nothing. But…it would be so cool if you were. You used to be a soldier, didn't you?"
"I did," Vegeta answered evenly.
"Awesome," Trunks whispered, not noticing the pain hidden in his father's expression, pain that only Bulma seemed able to perceive. Pain at the realisation of his deception, and what it would mean when everything eventually came out. How Trunks would surely be disappointed, hurt, betrayed, and Vegeta knew it would inevitably happen, but wanted to postpone the fall-out for as long as possible.
It was something that had haunted her husband a lot recently, especially with the birth of his second child, believing they would grow up to despise him. She thought it was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted children, and had held off so long on the subject of another.
"Well, your secret is safe with me," Trunks declared, bouncing on his toes like the carefree child he had been.
"That is good to hear," Vegeta answered, "I am relying on your discretion."
"Absolutely! My lips are sealed," Trunks made a zipping motion, backing into his room still lost in starry-eyed wonder.
As Vegeta turned away, heading downstairs with daughter in arms, Bulma made the split-second decision to follow him.
"You're not really a spy are you?" she accused as they descended, Vegeta a little ahead of her.
"I can neither confirm nor deny the allegation," he answered smoothly.
He couldn't possibly be…could he? Vegeta? A spy? He was a terrible liar! But perhaps if he didn't have to lie outright at all, if he only twisted the truth… He could simply refuse to speak in an interrogation. And there was more than one role in espionage. He might not need to lie; he might simply be gathering information on someone.
Like Ternyp.
He had, after all, become a 'contractor' to the Galactic Patrol for a short duration. And unlike Goku, he had not resigned with accompanying property damage. It wasn't unthinkable that he might have assumed a different position.
Still. A spy. Her Vegeta.
No.
Surely not.
"You no longer believe I have been carrying out an illicit liaison?" Vegeta confirmed, turning into the alfresco where Dr Brief was preparing the table setting.
"An illicit sexual liaison, yes," she clarified, causing him to blush and attempt to cover one of Bra's ears, "but not any liaison. I still think you're up to something, and it isn't good."
"I am not up to anything," Vegeta denied, "I am merely waiting for things to return to normal."
"You basically admitted you were involved in something immoral!"
"Bulma, if I may interject," Dr Brief interrupted, "I think there is something that must be done, if you truly believe that Vegeta has not been unfaithful to you."
"What?" she blinked.
"You must apologise," he answered gravely.
"What?! But he's still keeping secrets from me! He's up to something, Dad; he said as much to you as well!"
"I am aware of that, and I believe you have every right to be concerned, and even distance yourself from him. But without proof, what can you do? All you have is hearsay; not a chronology, a destination, a crime, a victim, associates or a motive."
"Hmph."
"But as to the matter of the affair, you need to release a public apology."
"What? Why?" Bulma bristled.
"Because you levelled an accusation at him in a public setting, which was reported widely in the media. You have also convinced all of Vegeta's friends that he has been unfaithful to you. That must be rectified."
"But Dad!" she protested, "What about my reputation? If I retract my claims, the press will have a field day! I assaulted my husband in broad daylight!"
Worst case scenario was that she could herself be charged.
"And what of Vegeta's reputation, being dragged through the mud by something ultimately untrue?"
"He doesn't have a reputation!" she objected, stomping her foot, "He has no company to run, no name, no friends, no family besides us, no legal status and he owns nothing! He's a nobody!"
"Bulma," her father reprimanded sternly, "That was uncalled for. You are forgetting that this man is a prince, whose public perception would be naturally important, and who expects esteem from his peers, even when it is not exhibited. What you have done is incredibly damaging to him socially and psychologically, not to mention physically, and for that you must apologise. The public must know, and your friends must know, that he has not participated in an affair."
"But he's still being an ass!" She was sure her palms had little crescents from how hard she was clenching her fists.
"That is an entirely separate matter, about which you are justified in your anger. Do not think my defence of him on the subject of cheating means that I am not similarly frustrated with his secrets. But Bulma, these are two different things. Two completely different charges, one of which is uncertain in nature. You must put things to right."
"But my reputation!" she blustered, "My company! Your company!"
"Father," Vegeta interjected, "If it is important to your enterprise, then I require no recompense."
"This isn't about you personally, Vegeta," Dr Brief still levelled his son-in-law a severe look, "This is about honour, and right versus wrong."
Vegeta and Bulma both looked at the ground, examining the cement with its recent food stains.
"Fine," Bulma eventually answered, taking out her mobile, "I'll call everyone up."
"And the newspaper," Dr Briefs emphasised.
"Alright," Bulma sighed, "the newspaper as well. But if the share-price drops because of this, it'll be on your head, Vegeta!"
He jerked back, affronted as he replied, "I say again that it is you who decided to take our dispute into a public area."
"Also," she said, remembering, beginning to dial in Krillen's number, deciding to leave the difficult public apology until last, "Ternyp's been trying to give me relationship advice."
Vegeta frowned, depositing Bra in her high-chair as Panchy appeared with a few dishes, "He should not be interfering in the heir apparent's business. I shall have a word with him."
The pair stood in silence for a few moments before Bulma added, "I'm still mad at you."
"I had surmised as much."