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.
When Bulma woke the next morning, it was to a disappointingly empty bed. Feeling the cool space beside her she had taken a few moments to remember why that wasn't a problem at present. But it was not a recent thing – he had been absent from their marital bed ever since Beerus and the angels had graced her residence. All excepting the night when he had comforted her, making her shiver at the memory, but even then she didn't think he had stayed after she fell asleep. His side of the bed had been too cold, too neat for such a thing.
The disappearances had decreased in frequency since Ternyp's arrival in her home, making her wonder if they were connected with the other saiyan's presence. Perhaps she ought to perform some espionage of her own on the pair, to see if either let anything slip when they thought they were unobserved.
She wondered what would happen once her guests departed, not knowing exactly when that would be, but thinking it might be sooner than she anticipated. Would Vegeta continue with his strange disappearances, or would these cease? Would he finally come clean to her without others in residence? Would she welcome him back yet again, or finally harden her heart towards him for good? And what of her guests? Would Ternyp return to his home planet? Would she ever see him again?
Would he confront Beerus once he recovered? What would become of that hostile relationship? Beerus seemed more concerned with dealing damage than his own safety, being fully aware of the consequences that awaited him once Ternyp recovered, if he chose to take that route. But she thought it unlikely after what he had confessed to her. Ternyp was too guilty about his own role as Gemuse in a past life, and haunted by his actions under Frieza. He would not, she suspected, be seeking vengeance.
She wanted him to, though. She dearly wanted him to, because she had witnessed Beerus' cruelty in stark relief, had cried along with Ternyp's screams and watched him die before her. How could she possibly allow Beerus to escape retribution for such gross mistreatment? But what could she do about it if Ternyp was not prepared to act? Surely no one else was strong enough or in a position to challenge the God of Destruction. She had seen how easily he dismissed Goku's assault in her living room, as if the saiyan were a pesky fly.
Thinking on the matter, searching her mind for a plan, Bulma rose, stretching her limbs as she yawned. It wasn't too early or too late, she noticed as she eyed the clock, but she ought to perform her morning ablutions quickly if she wanted to start work at a reasonable hour. After a quick shower and a liberal application of cosmetics as she anticipated an important meeting with some of her senior staff, who would probably have some words for her about the scandal, she headed downstairs for a spot of breakfast. Humming to herself, she prepared mentally for meeting Vegeta when she was still angry and uncertain regarding him. She was missing him dearly, but she could not in good conscience allow him back. She could not condone this sort of behaviour, so reconciliation was off the table. She would have to face him bravely, and persevere with an empty bed.
But she found that he was not the only saiyan in attendance at the breakfast table.
"Ternyp!" she gasped, spotting him beside Vegeta, a fork slowly approaching his mouth. He was dressed in Whis' sleeping garment this time, the white material making him appear pale despite his seeming improvement.
"Bulma," he greeted, "Good morning."
"Good morning to you too," she sang, dishing up a plentiful amount of scrambled eggs onto her plate and, against her better judgement, taking the spare place between Trunks and Merus, opposite Vegeta.
"I see you've healed yourself," she commented, snagging a sausage.
"Yes indeed," he answered, swallowing thickly, before looking down at his plate, "I cannot cut these," he gestured to the pile of bacon and four sausages which threatened to fall off the edge of his plate. Vegeta leaned over, Ternyp backing up as his own prince took his cutlery and sliced up the food for him neatly and efficiently.
"Thank you."
Vegeta responded with a mere grunt of acknowledgement as he returned to his meal.
"Say, Ternyp," Trunks piped up, "I heard you knew Dad as a kid."
"I did, yes."
"That must make you super old!"
"Trunks!" she scolded, but Ternyp merely chuckled.
"I'm afraid I'm older than that even. My former body was a saiyan in his middle years, but now I am an ancient being who cannot age. As one of the original creators of the universe, this body is incredibly old."
"Wow! But you're not even grey."
"I told you, I cannot age."
"Must be nice," Bulma grumbled, thinking about the occasional strands of grey hair she was finding. As usual, the meal was delicious, meat cooked to perfection and scrambled eggs with the right amount of flavour. Bulma wished she could cook like her mother, and always lamented it whenever she went away on holidays, Vegeta's talents consisting of hunting and frying food with his ki or a ki-ignited camp fire for a change of pace. Trunks demonstrated similar abilities to his parents in the kitchen.
"So anyway, Ternyp," Trunks spoke up, "you must have some pretty embarrassing stories about Dad, yeah?"
"I'm right here," Vegeta growled, giving Trunks a glare which he deftly ignored.
"Embarrassing stories?" Ternyp scratched his chin, "I don't believe I am at liberty to disclose any."
"What? Why?" Trunks whined.
"Because he is prince and heir apparent, and I am obliged to uphold his honour."
"Oh, come on," Trunks pouted, "Dad never tells me about his childhood, or his past before he came here. I'm super curious!"
"I'm afraid it is not my place to say anything," Ternyp averted.
"Please," Trunks whined.
"Keh Gresh?" Ternyp asked, turning to the royal in question.
Vegeta scowled, and replied with a firm, "No," thus ending the conversation.
Bulma admitted she was interested in hearing more about a young Vegeta, especially in the time before Frieza and the saiyan unit had twisted him into the man she had first met. But she also respected that, as Vegeta's subject, and a loyal one at that, Ternyp would not be able to reveal anything. If she weren't so mad at her husband, she would be happy that someone was finally showing the deference he expected as prince and heir to the saiyan throne, or what was left of it. The others had never understood how damaging it must be for him to go unrecognised at every turn, treated just like, or worse than, everyone else, his words given the same respect as an ordinary person's.
But she no longer cared about that, because Vegeta was being unfair with her, and he was doing or had done something horrible, of that she was sure. So he didn't deserve her consideration.
"Ternyp?" Trunks asked, causing the saiyan to look up from his meal, "Do you want to play some games with me later?"
"Trunks!" Bulma scolded, "Ternyp is still recovering! He needs rest!"
"I do indeed," Ternyp answered, "Although…"
"What is it?" Bulma enquired, but he turned to Vegeta.
"I grow tired of staying inside all of the time. This planet has a wonderful environment, which I would like to experience."
"I thought you didn't want to go sightseeing," she pointed out.
He grimaced, "I despise tourism. But I see no problem with enjoying this area while I am here."
Vegeta placed his knife and fork together, offering, "I can carry you to the sun lounges by the pool."
"That would be much appreciated."
Putting aside her work, Bulma waited until Trunks finished and left in a hurry, shouting about being late. She remained with Ternyp as he polished off the last of his meal, eating slowly despite his restored digestive system, struggling to hold his cutlery but adamant that he would not be fed by another, not even Vegeta, who he appeared quite comfortable with.
"Thank you, Mrs…" Ternyp fell silent as he attempted to direct his gratitude to the chef.
"It's Panchy, darling," she winked, making Ternyp blush beautifully.
"Pay no attention to her flirting," Vegeta commented, "she does that to everyone."
"But I hear you, at least, are single, Ternyp," Panchy tittered, "and incredibly attractive, just like all of the other saiyans I've met."
"You're married!" Ternyp protested, backing up in his seat.
"And my husband has never stopped me from looking," Panchy explained, "Besides, I've seen some of the magazines he tries to hide from me. At least I'm upfront."
"Keh Gresh, I would appreciate it if we took our leave now," Ternyp muttered.
Giving an empathetic smile, Vegeta knelt down beside his cousin, manoeuvring one arm beneath his knees and the other supporting his back. Without a grunt or any exertion whatsoever, Vegeta easily hefted his friend, walking smoothly in the direction of the pool area.
"I should help him with the gate," Bulma commented, using the excuse to tail them and hopefully speak some more with Ternyp.
After darting ahead to assist with the contraption, Bulma followed the pair inside, hovering over Ternyp as he was lowered onto the lounge. With the pool covered and vacant, skies above them dotted with clouds and all water features switched off, the scene wasn't as picturesque as Bulma would have liked. She wanted Ternyp to be awed enough at her personal estate to desire to see more of what Earth had to offer.
Before she could think to speak with the saiyan about his plans, Vegeta informed him that he was going to retrieve his laptop to do a spot of work while they relaxed.
"Your book on the saiyans?" Ternyp clarified.
"Yes, that."
"You must let me read it. You cannot ask me for my input and then not show it to me."
"You can read it when it's done!" Vegeta growled, cheeks heating up, "Like everyone else! It'll give you an excuse to return, anyway."
"Aw, Keh Gresh, are you saying that you'll miss me?"
Vegeta looked away.
"I'll keep in touch, I promise," Ternyp proposed.
"Telepathic communication is not the same as meeting in person," Vegeta objected, "I have no other real saiyans to associate with."
"So you are going to miss me," Ternyp surmised, "I'm flattered."
Vegeta harrumphed as he departed, heading inside through the back way, near Ternyp's room.
Bulma was curious about Vegeta's reticence regarding his work, especially to a contributor. He had shown her, had even read some more palatable parts to his daughter, yet he was denying a clear friend the privilege? What did that say about the relationship between the two saiyans? What did that tell her about her relationship with Vegeta? She was the only one, really, who had permission to read it, Bra being too young to understand a word. Even Trunks had been denied the privilege when he had asked.
If Vegeta could trust her with something he wished to keep so secret, then why did he continue to conceal his whereabouts and deeds?
"Has Vegeta always been this secretive?" she asked Ternyp, raising a hand to block out the sun as she began to squint.
"Oh, yes. In fact, he's far more open now than he used to be, and I believe I have you to thank for that change. Saiyans were not a vocal species, not…how should I explain it? We did not reveal our troubles to others, because we were not supposed to have any. Prince Vegeta had many worries, and against all his training and better judgment, he shared some with me. But not everything. There were always some things he refused to speak about no matter how much I cajoled him. His father's attitude never helped, of course."
"His father?"
"I dare not speak ill of the king, madam, deceased or not. It is sacrilegious to do so."
"I know that King Vegeta wasn't…the universe's greatest father…" Bulma prompted.
Ternyp barked out a laugh, "I couldn't say one way or the other on that one. Every species has a different concept of fatherhood, and different expectations. King Vegeta acted well within parameters for saiyan guardianship. I'm sure you can imagine what that might involve."
"Yes," she whispered, looking back inside to where her husband surely was, "Yes, I do. Vegeta had no idea how to raise a child. He came to me when Trunks had been naughty, the first time Vegeta had witnessed anything like it, and asked me what to do. He was so ashamed, and I finally got out of him that he wasn't prepared to knock Trunks around or throw him into a wall like his own father had done, and he felt like a failed parent for that. I told him it was normal not to want to hurt your children, but he seemed to find the idea difficult to swallow."
"Indeed," Ternyp agreed, "I would not expect him to use such measures on his own offspring. Not after Frieza."
"I was surprised, actually, when I learned later about how he was treated; only a little, mind, but enough. I was shocked that he had been so gentle with Trunks when considering his background. If I had known I doubt I would have left them alone together for some time."
"The Prince did not speak of his past to you?"
"Never off his own initiative, and what I did get was like pulling teeth."
"That is understandable. I doubt he trusts many people."
"He doesn't trust me, Ternyp," she objected, "He makes decisions on his own, decisions affecting me and about my safety, I might add."
"He has always been highly independent," Ternyp contributed, "I don't believe he would have meant anything by it."
"Nonetheless, I don't appreciate it."
The pair lapsed into silence as she thought on her husband's message. She doubted the threatening party was Ternyp, given how they had argued in front of him, how Vegeta had made no move to relocate their quarrel. Nevertheless, it remained a possibility, Vegeta's disappearances coinciding with Ternyp's arrival on Earth. She probably shouldn't speak more about it with him, just in case.
"Ternyp?" she asked, spotting Vegeta near the door.
"Hmm?"
"Have you thought any more about my picnic idea?"
"I…have…" he admitted hesitantly.
"And?"
"It…has merit."
"Fantastic! Everyone will be thrilled to meet you!"
"Everyone?" Ternyp frowned, "I do not wish to participate in a large gathering."
"Oh, come on!" she cajoled as Vegeta arrived, carrying both laptop and a chair. He didn't bother to walk around the pool, simply stepping into the air and floating over to them.
"No," Ternyp's tone was decisive.
"Alright, I'll only invite a small number," she relented, turning to face her husband, "Why are you bringing that out here?"
"To sit in it, obviously," he answered, dropping the offending furniture next to Ternyp's lounge.
"That's not for use by the pool," she pointed a finger at him.
"But it's part of the outdoor setting," he protested, folding himself into his chair and booting up his device.
"That doesn't matter, it shouldn't be near the pool."
"What's it going to do, evaporate all over it?"
Bulma ground her teeth, "Fine, keep your chair. I have better things to do than argue with you."
"That used to be one of her favourite past-times," Vegeta informed Ternyp in a sotto voice.
Letting out a cry of frustration, Bulma turned on her heel and headed towards the door near Ternyp's room. She intended to check on things in there before going to her home office to get some work done like she ought to have been doing earlier. Turning into the room, she noticed that both the IV-line and the feeding bag were in a corner, Bulma wondering if Ternyp ought to have removed the fluid so soon in spite of his healing. Dr Green might be having some words with both saiyans when she returned later that morning, but Bulma hoped to avoid that conversation. She wasn't really the one in charge of Ternyp's care; Vegeta was, as testified by the bundle of blankets that still lay beside the bed.
She wondered at the close relationship the pair had built, or re-built, in such a short space of time. Vegeta was almost uniquely considerate of the other saiyan, in a way he had only demonstrated to her and their children in the past. She knew he had grown to care for others, even strangers, but he wasn't normally so solicitous with them. Ternyp, for his part, seemed to trust Vegeta implicitly, even though they had been apart since Vegeta was likely eight or nine years old, and had changed a great deal in the interim. For his part, Vegeta had a degree of trust with the other saiyan that Bulma nearly envied. Nearly because she was purposefully not caring about such a thing at the moment, and because the saiyan history work clearly proved that she was on top of the pecking order for Vegeta.
They appeared very comfortable in each others company, she mused as she pulled back the curtains to observe the pair. Vegeta was typing away at his project and Ternyp lay reclined on his lounge. Neither spoke, nor interacted with the other in any way. They simply existed for a time, content enough that they did not need to talk. She wondered if they used telepathy to communicate, or if they simply relaxed together.
They were so at ease, not like herself and her husband.
She couldn't help the spark of jealousy within her as she turned away, certain that Vegeta was sharing more with his friend than with his wife.
At lunch time, Panchy swooped over to her with Bra on her hip, instructing Bulma in no uncertain terms to take a trolley-full of food to the saiyans by the pool. Despite knowing it was all a ploy to get her and Vegeta talking, and eventually back in each other's arms, Bulma acquiesced, trolley squeaking regularly as she wheeled it across the yard.
The two saiyans were reclined right where she had left them, Vegeta resting with the laptop on top of him, but hands to his sides as he stared at the sky for inspiration. As she approached, his gaze swivelled to meet hers.
"You told me, a while ago now, that even if I killed a whole stadium-full of people, you wouldn't stop loving me."
She had forgotten about that, and he probably had as well, being rather distressed at the time. She paused, thinking through her words carefully, "I haven't," she answered, "I haven't stopped loving you. But sometimes you have to draw the line, even if it hurts your heart."
"Bulma—"
"Can we not talk about this?" she sighed, "I just came to bring you lunch. Is Ternyp awake?"
"I am," the other saiyan responded, his once terrifying voice restored, sounding strange with his characteristic good humour, "But there appears to be more than enough here for two of my species. Perhaps you ought to join us?"
She pursed her lips, glancing between the two, before giving a gentle, hesitant nod. It couldn't hurt. Vegeta was her husband, after all, and they needed to get along, if only for the sake of the children. The air between them couldn't be so strained. Not if they were going to cooperate on parental matters. And, really, she wanted…
She wanted him back. Her heart did, at least, even though her head protested, both about the secrets and the evil. But nothing he had done had ever succeeding in eliminating her love for him in the past, despite turning her back on him in the aftermath of Buu and Babidi. An unknown and unconfirmed, in fact, denied, wrong was not going to influence her heart.
But she was nothing if not stubborn in her view that she was right.
"I'll get you a chair," Vegeta announced, putting his laptop in sleep on the small table beside him as he rose, leaving Bulma and Ternyp alone.
"So…" she began, trying to blow away the tense atmosphere with her social prowess, "how are you doing?"
"Much better," Ternyp answered, using his abdomen to raise himself without any apparent discomfort, "Now that my internal organs have been healed, I am restoring my energy at a much faster rate."
"Oh, really? I organised the picnic for the day after tomorrow. You will remain for it, won't you?"
"With all the trouble you have put into it? It be rude of me not to. But I insist on departing straight afterwards."
Vegeta returned with another upright chair from the alfresco, sporting a red mark on his cheek, which made Bulma wonder in spite of herself.
"We need to eat quickly," he cautioned, setting the chair down opposite the existing furniture and retrieving a plate for Bulma, "Beerus seems to be in a bad mood. I anticipate that he will head straight here after he has finished, as he realises how quickly Ternyp is recovering. This might be his last chance for revenge."
"Hasn't he done enough?" Bulma groaned, plonking herself down into her seat and fiddling with her utensils.
"Not by his reckoning," Vegeta answered darkly, "I doubt anything would satisfy him. But…I feel that he wants to reinforce the message of a few days ago."
"Message?" she was practically having a civil conversation with him, even though her mind rebelled at the notion.
"That I would be the one to suffer if Ternyp were to renege on his promises," Vegeta replied, fingering the rash which was beginning to bruise.
"But can't Ternyp protect you?" Bulma enquired, "I mean, he can teleport."
"All it takes is a second," Ternyp responded in a low voice, "Less than that, even. Beerus knows how to kill quickly."
The idea that Vegeta might be killed due to Ternyp's actions had been implied but it had never really sunk into Bulma's mind. Not with everything else that had been going on with saiyan god and saiyan prince. But to hear Ternyp mention it so openly made her stomach swoop in spite of the tension between her and her husband.
He could die.
Her mind catapulted back to the episode at the hospital, to the reveal of Ternyp's motionless and damaged corpse. The way he had lain there, so still, so horribly, terribly still as she and Dr Green spoke. That body could so easily have been Vegeta, with the familiar black crest of hair and general stature.
He could die.
"You…you won't let that happen, surely," Because even though she was angry, even though Vegeta had died twice, the thought still terrified her, "You won't do anything to provoke him, right?"
"I shall endeavour not to, although I wonder if he would use anything as an excuse to deprive me of those I care for in the same manner as I stole from him as the First One."
"Drink," Vegeta interrupted, holding a bowl of soup to the injured Ternyp's mouth, "We need to finish before Beerus arrives, or else my mother-in-law's cooking will go to waste and I shall have to deal with her howling."
"She really isn't that bad, Vegeta," Bulma objected, but nevertheless began her own meal. The expertly cooked steak practically melted in her mouth, tongue lapping at the seasoning as she let out an involuntary moan. If only she could cook like her mother, although with everything else going on she simply wouldn't have the time. And she couldn't be bothered. That was an important consideration.
At Vegeta's hurried insistence, feeding forkful after forkful into the mouth of Ternyp, who asserted at intervals that he was not an invalid, and he could manage (although the shaking of his hands belied his claims), Bulma polished off her meal much more quickly than her taste buds would have liked.
They were still singing, Vegeta muttering darkly as he relinquished the last of Ternyp's meal to the wheeled tray, shunting it aside, as Beerus hopped leisurely over the pool fence.