Thanks, as always, for the amazing feedback! Here is the latest installment to this story.

To any of my readers who might be living in the path of hurricane Harvey - I hope you stay warm, dry, and safe! Take care!

Bulma let out a groan under her breath, stretching her legs as she made rounds about the lower level of the house. She'd fallen asleep quickly and readily - the night she had was exhausting, to say the least. And Vegeta's embrace was always so endearing, who wouldn't have wanted to fall asleep nestled in arms such as his? Yet her injuries proved to win over her fatigue, the pain awakening her and dragging her from bed.

What else could she have done?

It was hard to sleep. The tightness she felt in her skin as it stretched with swelling was nearly unbearable. She'd seen herself in the mirror – her delicate features having transformed drastically during those few hours she'd slept. Her head was pounding, her muscles ached, and so she stayed up for the rest of the night. Pacing about the house, Bulma massaged her temples as she waited for the ibuprofen she'd swallowed to take effect. She was trying hard to distract her mind from the discomfort that was coursing through her veins as she strolled up and down the hallways, yet she couldn't. She just couldn't think of anything other than how upset she was growing by the minute.

Anger. Anger about her current predicament.

'Damnit.' Bulma thought when she looked at a mirror again. She had a full blown black eye now, and her bottom lip was twice as large as it normally was. Bruises scattered about her cheeks, a scratch on her upper eyelid. 'Look at what he did to me!' She thought bitterly as she scowled at her reflection. How dare that man disfigure her face – her beautiful face!

She'd been through a lot over the course of the last 24 hours. Her psyche had violently clashed among several emotions, and it was becoming overwhelming. At one point, just a few hours earlier, she'd been fearing for her life – and had even come to terms with it ending. She'd gone from such a sure belief, to being rescued from that fate. She'd then gone to feeling ashamed and useless, blaming herself for the attack she and Trunks had faced. But the pep-talk she received from a certain saiyan had really done its work on her.

It wasn't her fault.

Being told such a thing, especially by someone such as Vegeta, really helped to assure her insecurities. Vegeta was right – he was right, and she knew it. Now, instead of fear or remorse, she was seething with anger. It really wasn't her fault that this creep had done such things to her! And how dare he do it?!

These thoughts haunted her mind as she continued her pace around the house. She'd attempted to watch a TV show, had attempted to read a magazine, but her mind was stubbornly focused on how angry she was about what had happened to her.

And so it felt like a blessing when she heard Trunks stirring in his crib – and she ran upstairs to fetch him before he had the chance to call out for her and wake Vegeta. But Trunks did little to soothe the ire building inside. And even as she now stood over his high chair, watching the child eat groggily, she could feel her core tightening with indignation.

Her wrists were still stinging from where he'd scratched her.

Her scalp still throbbing from how he'd pulled her.

How.

Dare.

He.

"Woman."

Bulma looked up from her son, raising an eyebrow to see Vegeta standing in the doorway of the kitchen. At some point she had put her hand on her hip as she'd been thinking of her disgust with Rikuto. And she stood with it still there, looking defiant as she tiredly stretched a smile at the saiyan before her.

"Hey," She replied, surprised at how exhausted her own voice sounded when she spoke.

Vegeta was staring at her silently, presumably studying her condition. She looked a lot worse this morning than she had the night before, and she knew it. Bulma had no doubt that Vegeta was acknowledging this, his eyes trailing over her body. In another time she might have been self conscious to be presented to him in such a state, but she was too enraged to care. She wasn't the one who had done this to her face, after all!

Vegeta took a step forward, and his expression told her that he was considering his words as he crossed the room. Finally, after moments of silence, the saiyan finally settled with simply stating "you're up early".

Bulma would have widened her smile into a sarcastic chuckle, but her swollen cheeks were too pained for her to do so. "Couldn't sleep," She replied, turning to look back down at Trunks.

...At this point Trunks had finished his meal, and was staring up at Vegeta quietly.

There stood his father.

Daddy.

Memories of the night before, the image of Daddy intervening and attacking that man who'd hurt mommy, flashed before the baby's eyes. Inside, when he looked at his father now, he felt nothing but pure respect for him. In his eyes, Daddy was nothing less of the ideal being. The aura of strength that radiated through each room he entered, the abilities he always exhibited.

Trunks wanted to be just like his Daddy. He wanted to have the capability to defend Mommy, just like Daddy had done.

It just didn't seem fair that his own little body wasn't yet capable of it...

"I was thinking of taking him to the park," Bulma announced, breaking Trunks from his thoughts. It was true – she really had been. Going out in public was the last thing she really wanted to do at the moment, but she was worried about her baby. Trunks had been serious and quiet all morning, and she had no doubts about where his mind currently was. She wanted for him to know that everything was going to be alright, to forget about the night before. As a mother, she just wanted him to feel safe - to have a sense of normalcy. Yet still, the idea of going to the park was the least desirable thing she could have wanted to do for herself. It always amazed her to realize just how selfless it truly was to be a mother - how many times had she put herself through undesirable things for the sake of her baby?

She looked up at Vegeta, swallowing awkwardly. She couldn't bring herself to admit it. She didn't want to ask, but...

Vegeta cleared his throat. "I'll escort you and the boy." He announced, crossing his arms sternly. He'd felt as her pulse tightened. It was clear that the idea of attending this park made her uncomfortable, yet he understood her reasons as to why she decided to go. She didn't need to explain. "Grab your things, and let's go."

...

Bulma hardly spoke at all during their outing. Not a single word escaped her lips as they made their way to the park. She walked alongside Vegeta, her shoulders tense and she hugged Trunks close. Even with Vegeta beside her, her thoughts were still stubbornly invaded by the man who'd put his hands on her the night before.

And, even as she pushed Trunks in the swing, her mind still on Rikuto. Vegeta stood meters away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed as he waited for his kin to finish their activities. She knew that he was nearby, yet she was uneasy.

Rikuto had approached her from behind when he'd made his move.

Bulma found herself turning to glance over her shoulder, paranoia ringing through her ears. Fuck, she thought, turning back to her son just in time to give his swing another push. She recognized her own behavior, the distrustful urging in her pit that was telling her not to let her guard down – not even for a second.

'He did this to me.' She thought bitterly. 'How dare he put me in this state?'

A gust of wind flared then, blowing her hair out behind her. Her throbbing skin stung as the air clapped against it, and she bit her lip with discomfort. Yet even that hurt, having temporarily forgotten of her own mouth injury. She fought the urge to let out a frustrated scream. It seemed that everything she did brought her pain - an unpleasant reminder of the events of the night before. She felt trapped - trapped in this uncomfortable body, and it was because of what some stranger had done!

Trunks hardly let out a squeal at the park – not even a soft coo to express his approval. And when Bulma decided that they'd spent enough time she made her way for Vegeta. He was still standing with his back against the tree, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were shut, seeming to be in thought. "Your family has returned." He announced, not bothering to open his eyes. "I can feel the blonde one – she's probably watering those plants she keeps in the yard."

Bulma didn't respond, feeling her heart sink. It was as if the morning couldn't get any worse - her parents had arrived several hours early! She wasn't ready to see them – not in her current state! She was struggling enough with her own emotions, the rage that was boiling inside, and she wasn't yet ready to handle the reaction that her parents would surely have. She was the one who'd been attacked, hadn't she? She didn't feel ready to have to comfort her own mother over the matter! She let out a tired sigh, glancing up at Vegeta sadly.

This was when the saiyan finally opened one eye, taking a look at her expression. "If you don't wish to see them yet then we shall go to my house."

When he said this Bulma let out another sigh, but this time it was from relief. Her eyes lighting up, she gave Vegeta yet another pained smile, and he stepped out from the tree to commence their walk home.

...

Vegeta wasn't used to how quiet Bulma had become. As he walked alongside her for the second time that day, she hardly spoke a single work. All morning her ki had been radiating, with sudden surges that would quickly dissipate. He didn't have to ask to know that inside she was processing what all had happened. She was rather beaten up, yet she didn't so much as utter a complaint about the aches she must have surely been encountering.

And when they arrived to his home he guided her through the front door, leading them into the sitting room. Bulma seemed rather uninterested in observing the design of the interior. She stood, her back turned to Vegeta, as she gazed down at her feet. Her head bowed, her face was hidden behind her hair as she clutched Trunks tight. Vegeta watched, and a moment later Bulma let out a low groan before slowly placing Trunks down on the floor. "Excuse me," She muttered, walking away from the two and disappearing deeper into the house.

Vegeta could feel her ki building as she made her way through the building alone, and he knew something was about to happen. "She'd do better to stop feeling sorry for herself" The saiyan crossed his arms to look down at his son. Trunks returned the look, unsure of how to react. "Well, what do you think, boy?" Vegeta croaked lowly. This was the first time he and his son had been alone together since the attack the night before. "Don't you decide that you are a victim. I expect you to take this as motivation to stop being so soft. Next time you'll be the one to defend her if I'm not around. Do you understand me, boy?"

A light gleamed in the baby's eyes, and he shot his dad a knowing smirk. He couldn't explain it, but those words sank into a place so deep in his core that in that moment something within began to awaken. He really had been feeling somewhat discouraged in knowing that he hadn't been able to be the one to serve revenge to Rikuto, but next time things would surely be different. If only he knew how to properly form words, he would have made this promise to his Daddy.

Vegeta could feel Bulma's ki pulsing in the other room, and he let out a cuss under his breath. His suspicions were turning out to be true - something really was about to happen. "Stay put, boy." He warned. "I am going to check on your mother. Do not move." And with that Vegeta disappeared into his house, just as Bulma had. He followed her ki through the rooms and down the hallway, until he found himself standing at the bathroom door. The door was closed tightly, and on the other side he could hear Bulma, who was mumbling curse words at a frantic pace.

He would have thought to respect her privacy, but he didn't exactly expect her to be doing anything too vulgar on the other end of that door. This behavior was certainly not normal for her. That entire morning she'd been acting so distant, so uncharacteristically detached and silent - even with the boy. And now she was locked away in his own bathroom, gasping violently as her ki throbbed? What was she doing?

Vegeta felt uneasy. Perhaps she was crying again? But tears just didn't suit her!

He thought he'd made it clear the night before that what happened was the result of nothing more than Rikuto's cowardice. This way of behaving certainly wasn't the Bulma Briefs he'd grown to know over the last several years! Where was her hard backbone that she always leaned on?! Where was that fire that fueled her when she felt her honor had been defied? She needed to stop with this infernal self-pity! She needed to rise above such woes! Rikuto - that scum - how dare he put royal kin in such a demeaned state!?

Without a moment of hesitation he kicked at the door, ready to confront her. He was prepared to see her tears and to address them, but what he saw instead took his breath away.

Bulma was not crying, as she stood over the sink and glared at herself in the mirror. Her shoulders were rising and falling as she fumed, heavy heaps of air escaping her lungs with each breath.

"Woman-" Vegeta gasped, his eyes widening.

Bulma, her back still turned to him, looked at his reflection in the mirror. "I couldn't take it anymore!" She hissed, her jaw clenched.

Vegeta stepped back and leaned against the doorframe, taking the scene in as it unfolded.

Bulma let out a frustrated scream. In one of her hands she was squeezing a pair of scissors, and she angrily threw them to the ground. "This hair - this fucking hair! It reminds me of him!" She shouted, gripping the counter as she did so. Vegeta crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side as he watched. The scissors landed near his feet, and he nodded at them as if to acknowledge their contribution to his woman's sudden outburst. He was quite surprised, to be sure, but he was relieved by what he was seeing. Now, this - this was the Bulma Briefs he'd come to expect.

"He used my own hair against me - he used it to pull me against my will! How DARE HE!" She yelled, her ki growing with her screams. All of the frustration that had been building since the night before was finally being let out, and she was unable to stop herself. All she could think of was how pissed she was, and she slammed a fist down over the counter. "Nobody is ever going to do that to me again!"

Vegeta felt a nudge at his leg, and he glanced down for a moment to see that Trunks had joined his side. The baby had used his father's leg as leverage to rise to his own feet, and he now stood beside Daddy as he watched his mother screaming at the mirror. "From now on I'm wearing my hair short - I won't have it long so someone else can think they can use that against me - not my own hair - not ever again!" She turned then, panting as she caught her breath from her own shouts.

She felt better - much better. Her hair, having previously been long enough to hang down past her shoulders, had been cut so that it now ended just at her chin. A mess of blue strands had been left in the sink, and she took in a gulp of air as she thought about what she'd just done. She'd worn a bob before in the past, but she wasn't used to having such short hair anymore. Suddenly her head was feeling weightless, the throbbing in her scalp easing in tension. Vegeta had locked his eyes with hers, and he continued to watch, his face expressionless.

His woman was standing before him, hands clenched into fists, her face battered and her arms bruised. He could see the heat in her eyes, the gleam in her pupils that seemed to dare anyone to fuck with her. And as he looked over his woman, standing tall with her head high, her chest still heaving with the aftermath of her verbal explosion, he couldn't help but to think he had never been as attracted to her in all his life. 'Godess,' Vegeta thought. 'She's a complete and absolutely powerful goddess.'

The anger was slowly leaving her eyes, and she was still watching him as her shoulder' began to slowly drop. Her posture was relaxing, and her eyes began to soften.

"So," Vegeta said, pushing himself out from the door frame to stand up straight. "Do you feel better now?"

"Well," Bulma wiped at her face, clearing her eyes of a few tears that she hadn't realized had even fallen. "I don't know - I'm pissed."

"As you should be." The saiyan replied, nodding his approval.

"I'm getting hungry." Bulma stated dumbly, feeling somewhat blind-sided as she sobered from her own furiosity.

"As one becomes when they haven't eaten," Vegeta said, a smirk crossing his face. "Stay with the boy and I'll go catch us some lunch."