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 had waited to inform the newspaper until after lunch, postponing it further still as she was distracted by her mother, Vegeta traipsing up the stairs with Bra on his hip.

"Oh, Bulma," Panchy bemoaned, "What has happened between you and Vegeta? The two of you are so distant with each other, and your eyes are blazing when you look at him. I had Vegeta in here this morning, sitting silent at the table with his head in his hands, as if the world were weighing down on him. You must tell me what has happened."

"Vegeta's been keeping secrets from me, Mum," Bulma explained, settling into that same seat her husband had vacated not a few hours before.

"But Bulma, dear, surely such a thing is not serious enough to separate like this?" her mother reasoned, "Your father has kept all sorts from me over the years, and I never allowed it to ruin our relationship."

Bulma blinked, asking "What kinds of things did he conceal from you?"

"Oh, nothing serious. A broken ornament, the fact that he hadn't won dux at his school as he claimed, that he'd previously been married to and divorced a rather frightful woman, you know, all those usual, little things a husband keeps from his wife to maintain her good opinion."

"This is different," Bulma shook her head.

"How so?"

"He's…we think he's involved in something…bad."

"Bad? Sweet young Vegeta? Never!" Panchy objected, loading the dishwasher beside the sink.

"Yes, well," Bulma replied, "I'm glad you have confidence in him. The rest of us don't."

"Now, Bulma," Panchy countered, "you said only that you 'think' he is involved in something, not that he certainly is. What evidence do you have?"

"Mostly what he's implied. Saying that," she paused, "that he hasn't 'exactly' committed anything. Admitting that he's irredeemable."

"And are you sure that he wanted to do those bad things?" Panchy queried.

"I'm…not certain, no," she admitted, looking out the window with a thoughtful gaze.

"Well then you should ask him," Panchy decided, closing the dishwasher door with a light shove.

Bulma pondered her mother's words, wondering whether Vegeta had indeed consented to doing whatever it was that he had done. He seemed to regret his actions, so that pointed to the chance that he hadn't agreed. That he had been controlled or forced. This wasn't outside of the realm of possibility at all, Bulma knew. Coercion and threats had been a large part of Vegeta's early life, bodily harm to himself or the death of others following his disobedience or simple inability to follow orders. There were plenty of people in the omniverse who were stronger than her husband, or who might have something to hold over him. And although he had thrown off Babidi's possession, she wasn't certain of his mental defences vis-à-vis other controllers. He didn't seem to be currently under anyone's influence, but that could easily be masked, or else he was at their command only in their presence.

Scooting out of her seat, she decided to confront him on the matter.

She bumped into him as he was descending the stairs after Bra's story-time, gazing at her with a lost expression.

"I've informed everyone that I was mistaken about your supposed affair," she informed him.

"Oh," he answered, halting a step above her.

"But I have a question for you, and it's very important."

He waited patiently.

"Were you coerced or otherwise forced into doing these wicked things you've alluded to?"

He remained silent.

"Vegeta?" she prompted, stomach dropping.

"No," he answered.

Gritting her teeth she raised her hand and slapped him harshly in the jaw, Vegeta taking the hit and snapping his head to the side to redirect the force.

"How could you?" she seethed, "After all we've been through together? After everything you promised me?"

"I thought he didn't cheat on you," came a confused voice at her side.

"Goku!" she cried in alarm at the same time an irate Vegeta declared, "Kakarot!"

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!" Bulma shrieked.

"Oh, come on, Bulma. It's convenient. I actually IT'd to Vegeta anyway."

He turned to face the prince, "I came to apologise for beating you up over cheating on Bulma. But it seems she's found something else to be angry at you about," he laughed.

"Kakarot, this is not amusing."

"Goku, listen," Bulma insisted, "This is incredibly serious. Vegeta's up to something untoward, he won't admit what, but he's confessed to reverting to evil."

He hadn't, exactly, had denied it, in fact, but his body language screamed guilt, and what he had said, what he had implied, indicated that he had done something awful.

"What?!" Goku's eyes bugged, "Vegeta!"

But the prince was staring through him, rather than taking in his presence or his words.

"And," Bulma added, "He was neither coerced nor possessed."

"Vegeta, how could you?!" Goku reached forward, shaking Vegeta out of his stupor.

"You are misunderstanding!" he bristled, "I am not—"

Then he vanished.

Mid-sentence, completely unintentionally by the looks of things.

Simply vanished into thin air.

"What the…?" Goku wondered, "That wasn't instant transmission."

"There are other methods of teleportation in existence," came a voice from behind, making Bulma curse everyone who had decided to surprise her today.

"But where he might have learned such a thing is indeed a mystery," Whis continued.

The angel stood beside Merus at the foot of the staircase, looking on with a placid expression. Merus was wearing a strange look a he regarded Whis, reminding her that he had seemed to know something over the previous dinner.

She would confront him next.

"Merus, I need to speak with you," Bulma stated the moment Whis disappeared from his student's presence, heading who knew where, but probably the bathroom.

"Me?" he asked, hair glistening in the sun as he admired her mother's garden, "Whatever for?"

"Vegeta," she said simply.

"What about him?"

"You know something," she hypothesised, "You said that he shouldn't be sparring. Why is that?"

"I'm not sure Vegeta wants you to know," Merus shook his head, "Besides, it's important for your safety that everything remain a secret. I cannot reveal anything."

"Why is it important for my safety?" Bulma questioned.

"Knowledge is power, Miss Bulma, and there are those who would abuse it. I will say no more."

"Merus, please," she begged, "You don't believe that Vegeta used a different teleportation technique at all; I saw your expression when Whis suggested it. What happened to him?"

"Vegeta is fine," he assured her.

"I never said that he wasn't, I'm asking what happened to him."

"I cannot say," Merus replied simply.

"Merus."

"Miss Bulma, I cannot tell you anything without Vegeta's permission. Please respect my honour."

"But—"

"It is better for all of us if some things remain unknown."

She growled at him.

"Miss Bulma, if you desire to help, I suggest you visit Ternyp."

"Ternyp?"

"Yes."

Wondering what he might be referring to, and debating whether he meant for her to question Ternyp instead, Bulma returned to her home. Passing Beerus in the corridors, looking smugly down at her, Bulma picked up the pace. Reaching the former sewing room in record time, she found the space in shambles. The bed was on its side, feed bag and IV-line on the ground adjacent to a crumpled figure, Vegeta kneeling beside a supine Ternyp.

"Ternyp!" she gasped, rushing to his side.

"Ternyp, what happened?"

"Beerus happened," Vegeta answered, manoeuvring the injured saiyan onto his back.

"And, what? Ternyp recalled you?"

Could he do that?

"Something like that," Vegeta responded vaguely, checking over the various casts which protected Ternyp's limbs. Working the arms and legs a few times, watching Ternyp's face as he did so, he declared that he did not think anything had been re-broken, thankfully.

"I'll contact Dr Green," Bulma decided, retrieving her phone and finding the number, overruling Ternyp's objections that he didn't want to trouble her. Now that he was on his back she could see a giant bruise on his face in the shape of a hand-print, cuts where Beerus' nails would be.

Yes, she was certainly going to be getting Beerus back for this.

But first things first, she needed to perform first aid on Ternyp.

"Can you tell me where it hurts?" she inquired, dragging over the medical bag and pulling out a stethoscope, then discarding it because she had no idea what to listen for. Instead, she simply took his pulse, writing it down on the sheet and comparing it to his other data points.

"It's a little high," she commented, retrieving the blood-pressure cuff and strapping it onto his upper arm.

"My…stomach," Ternyp groaned, answering her earlier question as the cuff constricted his arm.

"Stomach, huh?" she wrote down the numbers, which were in an acceptable range, "You haven't healed that part yet, have you?"

"No…" he breathed in reply.

"So he targeted you there? Didn't hurt you anywhere else?"

"Yes…and no," he responded, "But I may…have injured my leg trying…to fight back."

"You tried to fight back?" Bulma blinked, "Did it work?"

"Not…in the slightest."

"You'll get there," she assured him, "You'll regain your strength and pay him back for all of this."

"I do not intend…to pay him back."

"What?" Bulma paused as she took his temperature. She simply blinked at him, trying to comprehend his declaration. If someone had done as much to her, she would not be so magnanimous.

"I will not seek…revenge."

"But…he's hurt you so much!" she protested, "He killed you! You can't let him get away with that!"

"He had every right…to vengeance against me."

"Ternyp, you're not responsible for what you did in a past life."

"I am," he objected, "and I deserve to be punished."

"Why did you fight back, then? If you feel this way, which is completely wrong, I might add, why defend yourself?"

"I am…selfish. It was instinctual."

"That isn't selfish, Ternyp," she shook her head, replacing temperature checking device in the bag as she was forced to wait for Dr Green.

"Should we move him to the bed?" she asked Vegeta in the most civil tone she had achieved in days.

"I do not believe that would be wise without the assent of Dr Green. But I will prepare it."

She remained at Ternyp's side as Vegeta rose, moving to the bed and tipping it back into position. The sounds of sheets being rustled reached her as she took Ternyp's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You seem much better than the other times Beerus has hurt you," she commented.

"I am much…stronger now. He noticed it as well. Perhaps…he shall not be able to do it…anymore."

"Hopefully. You'll be able to heal yourself again soon, right?"

"I was planning for…this afternoon but…I believe he may have…set me back a few hours."

"Oh, that's a pity. I'm sure you're looking forward to having solid food again."

"Indeed," he answered, "I cannot wait to…taste what Earth has to offer."

"That's right, you've never been here before!" she exclaimed, "I must organise an amazing feast for you, and we should take you sightseeing!"

"Sightseeing…"

"It'll be fun, I promise you."

"Hmm…"

Bulma waxed eloquent on the various exciting, beautiful, dangerous, thrilling and relaxing places Earth had to offer, while Ternyp remained unconvinced. She recalled that Vegeta had never been an enthusiastic tourist either, having seen much of the bounty of the universe already. Ternyp's experiences would be much the same.

"You must at least have a picnic with us to meet everyone," she pleaded.

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, Goku's family, my and Vegeta's friends."

"Goku?"

"Kakarot," Vegeta answered, still standing by the bed, "Raditz's brother."

"Oh, yes, he did say that one time."

"So you'll do it?"

"I never said that!"

"Oh, come on…" she pouted.

"I'll think about it."

It had not been a good day. Her father had reprimanded her, she had been forced to call all of her friends and explain to them that, no, Vegeta hadn't been having an affair, although he was still being very secretive. Her mother had bemoaned their fractured relationship, then Vegeta had refuted the notion that he had not done the terrible things he had denied yet alluded to anyway of his own free will. Then poor Ternyp had been victimised yet again, and to top it all off she had been forced to contact the newspaper and ask them to release a retraction over the allegations of a secret liaison. Then Beerus had been insufferably smug over dinner, while Vegeta had tried to engage her in conversation, eventually giving up as he was given a glacial shoulder.

After putting Bra to bed, Bulma decided to check in on her son, who was in the games room with Vegeta.

"You need to hold the jump button, Dad," Trunks laughed as she entered in time to watch her husband's character fall into a pit. The pair had graduated from their RPG and were currently working their way through a side-scroller. Vegeta had, of course, chosen a fearsome warrior as his avatar, which had an impressive set of combination moves that he ignored in favour of mashing random buttons.

He may have been a space flying-ace once upon a time, but he was no match for the simple controls of a human video game. It was strange how these things sometimes worked out. He hadn't been able to explain the discrepancy either a long time ago when they were still in love and he had effortlessly flown her air-craft through a set of impressive manoeuvres as she screamed at him from where she was strapped in.

"Dad, stop attacking it," Trunks instructed as Vegeta's character launched itself forward, "I want to absorb it."

"Huh?" Vegeta asked as the enemy vanished with a 'pop'.

"You're hopeless, Dad."

"Hmph."

Bulma leant against the back wall, not daring to sit beside Vegeta, who she was still angry with, or Trunks, who moved wildly as he played. She noted that the duo appeared to have repaired their relationship, each feeling comfortable in the other's presence as they continued with their near-nightly bonding activity, which had been interrupted over the past week with Vegeta's disappearances. Trunks seemed to have forgiven his father for that, possibly still convinced the saiyan had become an agent, while Vegeta did not hold Trunks' poor attitude and even aggressive behaviour against him.

As they cleared another level, Vegeta not making it to the exit in time for the loading screen, the pair sat back.

"Bulma," the prince stated, causing her to jump, "I left you something on our bed."

She didn't like that he was calling it 'our' bed, but refrained from commenting.

"I would appreciate it if you would read it," he continued, "and destroy it afterwards."

"Aw, can't I read it? Is it a secret message?" Trunks whined.

"It does not contain any hidden information, but alludes to the existence of such things."

"Oh, okay."

"It is merely an explanation that I needed some time to formulate."

"You mean you needed time to come up with some good excuses," she accused.

"No, my reasoning has not changed. But I have been unable to explain it to you verbally. I seem to be interrupted or have questions asked of me at every turn."

"That's your own fault," she spat.

"Please, Bulma," he begged, turning to face her with an urgent expression.

"Fine," she relented, "I'll read your little note. But don't expect anything to change between us."

"As long as you read it."

Thinking there was no time like the present Bulma made her way to the room she had exiled her husband from, wondering what on Earth he might have to tell her that he had been unable or unwilling to say before. Clearly it would not be revealing anything new, would not be resolving the mysteries surrounding him, but would instead be defending his silence.

She found it on the bed as she switched on the light; a small, folded note resting on the covers in the very centre. Closing the door behind her with a gentle snick, she made her way over, seating herself on the mattress and picking up the enigmatic paper.

There was nothing written on the top.

Unfolding it, she recognised the sweeping scrawl of her husband's regal handwriting, neat and even as it roiled across the page. She fingered the elaborate 'Bulma' at the top, seeing it so very rarely.

Bulma,

I know that the last thing you want to hear right now is another assertion that you ought to remain in the dark on certain matters. But it is essential that some things remain unknown. As long as unidentifiable persons remain in residence, I cannot disclose the information which you seek.

It is simply too dangerous to do so.

Your life, and the lives of our family, will be endangered by that knowledge.

As to your concerns about my activities, you need know only that I have not broken my vow to you regarding a reversal to malicious tendencies.

I know this will not allay your concerns, nor do I expect you will believe me absolutely. But I urge you to. I detest lying, and I struggle to do so to you, as you are well aware.

Please, Bulma, believe me when I say that you mean everything to me, and I will never do anything that might endanger you or our family. Your lives matter more to me than even our relationship – so long as you remain unharmed, then I will survive whatever separation you might insist upon.

Sincerely Yours,

Vegeta IV

P.S. Please destroy this paper after reading.

He had even drawn a little royal crest beneath his name, like he had done on their marriage certificate, which he had taken incredibly seriously and insisted needed a royal seal despite it not being a legal document.

She sighed, ripping the paper into tiny slivers as she contemplated his words.

Safety.

It was all about safety, and the idea that information was dangerous.

But what right did Vegeta have to make that decision for himself, without any input from the rest of his family? He had taken the choice away from her, acting on his own without consulting her, as if his was the only opinion that mattered. He had no right to shunt her aside or make decisions on her behalf. She wasn't a child, and he wasn't her carer or guardian. They were supposed to be in an equal partnership, and if anything, Bulma was the dominant force. Vegeta had always respected her before, coming from a non-patriarchal society which held men and women as equals.

He had no reason to decide what she should and should not know.

And then there was his denial of having broken his vow to refrain from involvement in further nefarious activities. But he had implied that there was more blood on his hands, now, that he had done something, or multiple things, truly terrible. Terrible enough that he believed he was 'evil itself'.

What did that mean? She knew it was unlikely that he was lying, although being in written form he did not display any of the usual tells. But still, she thought there was more to his self-depreciation, to his admittance and non-admittance about his deeds. He both denied and confessed them, as if there was some kind of middle-ground, as if there were some nuance to the situation which made both answers true.

Hearing a knock on the door, she raised her head, bidding whoever it was to enter.

Vegeta.

"Did you read it?" he whispered, slipping inside and securing the door behind him.

"Why the secrecy, Vegeta? What on Earth have you gotten involved in that the knowledge itself is dangerous?"

"I cannot say due to that very reason," he answered.

"Vegeta, I thought we were equal partners," she stated, rising from the bed and walking over to the bathroom. Obedient to his post-script, she flushed the pieces down the toilet, turning back to him with an exasperated expression.

"We are equal partners," he frowned.

"Then why are you making decisions on my behalf?"

"Making decisions?"

"You've decided that whatever you're hiding from me is too dangerous for me to know. You reached that conclusion on your own, and now you're being insufferably overprotective, when I've always jumped into the thick of it alongside you."

"I have always thought that extremely reckless," he pointed out, "You are not a combatant."

"But why the objection now? Why are you trying to wrap me in cotton wool?"

"Wrap you in…" he frowned.

"It's in expression," she elucidated, "It means to be overprotective or to coddle."

"This isn't only about your safety, Bulma, this is about the children as well," Vegeta clarified, "I don't mean to constrain your independence, but your knowledge could harm them."

"How?"

He gave her a long look.

"Certain persons have been known to use collateral," he finally explained, "and I will say no more."

"Beerus."

"He is not the only one who possesses such an attitude," Vegeta pointed out.

"Even so, you've been disappearing ever since he arrived here. What are you up to, Vegeta?"

"Did you not just dispose of a treatise on exactly why I can't tell you?"

"Yes, about that," she dropped onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress as she sat, "what do you mean you haven't broken your vow? You basically admitted to it!"

"It is complicated," Vegeta evaded.

"Vegeta," she growled.

"No," he silenced her, opening the door, "I will not explain it. If you figure it out on your own the repercussions will be much the same."

"Vegeta," she halted him, "I…"

She wanted him back, she knew that much. Wanted to feel his warmth as they relaxed together in bed, wanted to explore his body, wanted to taste him again.

But she couldn't give in to that. Not when he was constraining her independence and making decisions without trusting her. Not when he was insinuating that something wicked was going on, if she could only figure out what.

Not when he was still keeping important secrets from her.

"It's alright," she finally said, "You can go."