Sorry for the long delay. This chapter was actually set to be published weeks ago, but every time I got ready to hit "post" I would get cold feet and go back to editing.
Hopefully you enjoy the read!
It must have been about 9 in the evening, and the sun had set hours earlier by the time Tadashi made it home from the lab at school. After fumbling with his keys for five minutes too long, he finally managed to find the one that fit into the lock of his apartment door. It had been another endless day for him, as the fidgety ex-intern let himself into his dark home with a sigh.
He'd been through a lot in recent weeks. After being told by Dr. Briefs that his apprenticeship was being terminated due to the "inappropriate crossing of boundaries", Tadashi had received an angry call from his closest uncle.
Uncle Haruto, who had been a fond colleague of Dr. Briefs during their days in college, had been grooming Tadashi for a career in science since the boy had been in diapers. Therefore, Haruto certainly hadn't been too thrilled to hear that his brightest nephew had lost one of the biggest opportunities of his life due to his inability to keep his eyes off a certain girl.
"You do know that your boss and I considered each other to be brothers in college, right?!" Uncle Haruto had yelled into the phone. "And you were going after his daughter! What do you think that implies about you! Do you even understand how disgusting that is?!"
It had been humiliating, to say the least. And Tadashi had been feeling so scorned and abandoned from the whole situation that he had no qualms at all about going to the local news station. In his point of view, he'd only been trying to help, and if Bulma wanted to handle his generosity like that then perhaps she'd have what was coming to her when the entire world find out...
As the days went by and the story of Bulma's dysfunctional relationship spread, Tadashi hardly felt any guilt. If she wanted to stay with some alpha male brute who treated her like a punching bag, then it wasn't his fault if the general public were going to be alarmed by it. In fact, it was only fair!
Of all the girls Tadashi had admired, Bulma had just been another to add to the list of failed advances, and he was tired of it. Tadashi was tired of being the guy that got stomped on and discarded - simply because of how nice he was! This had happened time and time again during previous pursuits, when the girl he had been eying had chosen to go with some pea-brained muscular oaf instead, and it was becoming frustratingly predictable.
This situation in particular had proven to be no different in the end, but now things were on a much greater scale. Tadashi had been kind to Bulma when he'd seen she was upset. He had bought her a jeweled broach, tried to comfort her, and had even driven her home when she'd been frightfully sick. He had loved her, and what had she done in return? She'd tossed him aside without a care or regard. Bulma had gotten her use of him, and that had been that!
Yet another disappointment had occurred, and Tadashi was getting fed up with it. Why was it that he always finished last?
Now inside his apartment, the ex-intern kicked off his shoes before making his way towards the living room. As he reached the end of the hall he flung his hand at the light switch so he could turn on the lights. He hardly even thought about it as he did so – flipping a switch was such a mundane task, after all.
…Yet nothing happened.
The room remained dark, and this snapped Tadashi's mind to a more alert irritation. "Are you kidding me?" He grumbled, clicking the switch three more times - just for good measure. "The power's out? But the lights were working out in the lobby!"
Thunder was cracking in the distance - a storm that had been predicted on the news days before. With a tired breath Tadashi dropped his keys and wallet on the spot where he stood, running a hand through his oily blonde locks. He'd had a long day at university, and he'd spent the last four hours looking forward to nothing more than coming home and taking a long shower.
Letting out a deep sigh of self-pity, the ex-intern turned so he could go dig a flashlight out from the linen closet. Halfway across the living room, though, he came into contact with something… Something that was large…
… And firm.
"Wha?!" He wailed, but he was already being knocked back. Unable to keep his balance, he stumbled off into the nearby couch. Tadashi landed in the cushion with an "oomf!" before he looked up to assess what he had just bumped into, already gasping for air.
But in the darkness it was impossible to see a thing, other than the vague outline of a man. Tadashi's eyes were gradually adjusting to the lack of light in the room, and he was able to make out the figure with a little bit of clarity, but it was still unrecognizable regardless.
In the apartment was utter silence, other than the thunder that was crackling outside Tadashi's window. The ominous figure standing above him wasn't speaking, let alone moving, and Tadashi felt his teeth starting to chatter as a shadow of dread washed over his spine.
Then, as he watched, the room lit up with a flash.
It was such a bright pop of light that the ex-intern felt as if he might go blind… He may have also let out a shrill scream from the shock of it. Peeking out through the slits of his fingers, Tadashi gazed at the large man standing in his living room, and this time he was able to see him perfectly.
Muscle.
The intruder was made of muscle - from his head to his toes - and around his body was a halo of fire that made the ex-intern go pale in the face. If he wasn't so terrified at what was happening to him, he might have been concerned that embers in his carpet might have resulted in him losing his security deposit.
The man looked almost identical to the one Bulma had been living with, but this guy had a few strikingly different features that had Tadashi rubbing his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly. Unlike Bulma's jerk of a boyfriend, this guy had cyan eyes... and he was blonde!
"What - what is this?!" Tadashi yelped, grabbing the nearest thing he could - a decorative throw pillow - and slung it at his intruder with all of his might.
The man simply stared at the pillow, watching as it softly clapped him on the shin before limply falling to the ground. He made a face as if he were trying not to lose his patience, but the glowing stranger still didn't say anything. Instead he looked back at Tadashi, like an angry father might glare at an unruly child. As if to say 'Well, try explaining your way out of that!'
"Oh, jeez..." The ex-intern clammered. He fidgeted in his seat slightly, and finally he summered the courage to ask the only thing he could. "Hey... By any chance… Is your name... Vegeta?"
The glowing man's face, which was already illuminated by the ring of fire, lit up even more at this question. Slowly he began to laugh, his shoulders bouncing violently as he seemed to take absolute delight in Tadashi's fear. "You want to know who I am?" He growled, in a voice that sounded far too familiar to the ex-intern that was still shivering on the couch.
"Wait a minute!" Another voice chimed in, and this surprised Tadashi so much that he let out another shrill scream.
"Stop doing that!" The glowing man yelled, putting his hands over his ears. "Gah! That noise is so infuriating!" But then the intruder turned to the source of the second voice, and another man seemed to appear out of the darkness as Tadashi watched.
This one was the taller of the two. And while he wasn't nearly as muscular as the one that was glowing, he still had an impressive amount of tone to his body. He stopped in front of the couch to stand by the other man's side, giving Tadashi a good look before turning back to his companion.
.
"This is the guy?" Yamcha looked at Vegeta with a raised eyebrow. He'd been expecting something different – way different. At the very least, the Z-Fighter had been expecting Tadashi to somewhat resemble Bulma's type… He thought the kid would have been at least a little bit confident, a tiny bit strong-headed, and perhaps even have dark hair. Yamcha had expected the guy to have some muscle on his frame! Something that resembled the type of guy she went for, at least!
But this?
... This was just some gawky kid!
"That's the one." Vegeta growled, his blonde locking wafting back from his face as he raised his ki even higher.
Yamcha turned back towards Tadashi, who was now cradling another throw pillow as he peeked at them from behind it. With a sigh, the Z-Fighter shook his head. "I don't know, man..."
"What are you talking about?!" Vegeta snarled, turning on Yamcha now.
"I mean, this is just some doof! I don't know if I can go through with this, man. It just feels, well... Don't you think it's kind of wrong?"
"You decide to gain a conscious now?!" Vegeta barked. "After we planned and waited for hours!"
"Well, I didn't know the kid would be so pathetic!"
Tadashi, who was watching the two men in front of him as they began to argue, slowly began to lower the pillow that had been shielding his face. He was starting to feel as if he were watching some awkward type of lovers' quarrel, and that was making the ex-intern more than a bit awkward.
"I told you to stay in your corner until I called for you, anyway!" Vegeta was shouting, waving a fist in Yamcha's face. "You were supposed to jump the boy only after I gave the signal!"
"I'm not gonna fuck with this guy, okay?!" Yamcha snapped. "He's like a decade younger than us, dude! It's just too messed up!"
"Don't act as if you would be the one giving the blunt of the harm when I am the one doing the majority of the work, dammit!" Vegeta snarled. "Your purpose was just to scare the ferret! His blood is mine!"
"Hey..." Tadashi mumbled awkwardly. He gave a careful wave before pointing to himself. "Are you guys... forgetting something?"
"Now look at what you've done, the fiend is gaining a mouth!" Vegeta barked. "If you aren't going to assist, then just stay out of my way! I already told you I don't need your help, and I'll do it all myself!" The saiyan turned back towards Tadashi then, opening his palm to fire a blast at the wall above the kid's head. The ex-intern let out yet another high-pitched scream, which had Vegeta groaning as his ear drums throbbed. "I told you to stop doing that!"
"I can't help it!" Tadashi cried breathlessly, his heart pounding against the ribs in his chest. "That's just what I do! Who - who are you?!"
"You want to know who I am?" Vegeta growled, a smirk stretching across his lips. He began to step towards the ex-intern then, trying to get as much pleasure in this situation despite Yamcha's protests. "Listen to me, boy. I am that of which nightmares are made. I come from shadows when I am least expected, my whereabouts unable to be traced. I seek retribution for the offenses you have inflicted, and I shall not retreat until I have tasted blood."
No words came out of Tadashi's mouth at this – only a long, trembling wail. The boy clawed at the couch cushion he was seated on, kicking his legs up in the air as if this would somehow grant distance between himself and the approaching saiyan.
"Look at him, man!" Yamcha interjected. "You're really freaking him out!"
"Oh will you just SHUT UP?!" Vegeta snarled, turning at the Z-Fighter again. As Tadashi watched in horror, the saiyan landed a firm punch in Yamcha's jaw. "SHUT UP! You keep ruining my vibe!"
"And I told you this is wrong!" Yamcha yelled back, swinging his own arm at Vegeta in retaliation. The next thing Tadashi knew, as he stared with his mouth hanging open, the two strange men were pummeling each other around the room.
A glass bowl that had been left on the coffee table shattered, along with the table itself, as the two men fell on it. Yamcha was laying on his back as Vegeta slammed a fist into his rib. "This is for encouraging me to cheat on my wif - my WOMAN - with some harlot on the street!" He barked. "And this is for all the times you likely did such a thing when you were still the one she was still infatuated with!"
"Hey, guys?" Tadashi quivered, but the men ignored him.
"Me?!" Yamcha howled, rolling over to avoid another swing of the saiyan's fist. He hadn't been very successful at landing any blows on Vegeta so far, but the Z-Fighter would be damned if he allowed himself to be a punching bag. "Maybe you should learn how to be a decent person!" He barked, flailing his leg into a kick that landed on Vegeta's groin.
"Wow, that might have hurt if you actually had some strength!" Vegeta mocked before pushing himself to his feet. He grabbed Yamcha by the hair and pulled him up, as well. "You useless pest! You lecture me on being a decent person, when you are hardly a mold of that yourself! All you've succeeded with tonight is getting in my way! Do you know how easily I could rip you apart?! Limb-by-limb!"
"Someone's gotta stop you, man! You're just being an asshole! You're crazy!"
"Crazy?" With this Vegeta shoved Yamcha, pushing him so hard that the Z-Fighter went flying through the wall and into Tadashi's bedroom. Just as the intern opened his mouth the saiyan turned on him. "Don't you dare scream again, you little squirrel!"
"What do you want from me?! What did I ever do to you?!" Tadashi choked. "I haven't done anything to you! Just - whatever you want - name it! I'll... I'll do anything, please, just PLEASE don't hurt me!"
"I come to seek vengeance for those who you have wronged, and I do so without their knowledge." Vegeta growled. "You know very well what you have done. Trying to feign innocence will only harden your fate."
Tadashi's eyes widened.
"You have lied to an entire race of people, and you have singled out two individuals who you had no business involving yourself with. You have stalked and invaded the privacy of them, and that is inexcusable. What you have done cannot simply be forgiven. You will have to pay, and the only fitting way is to do so with your life."
"AIIIIEEEEEEEHHHHH!" Tadashi wailed, jumping from the couch and dashing for his apartment door. If he could just make it outside, he might stand a chance in being safe from this strange monster that was in his home. No - he knew he'd be safe!
But, before he had even made it to the entrance hall, the glowing man was standing right in front of him. "How did you-?"
"My speed cannot be matched, have you not realized this yet? You prove yourself to not only be coward, but a foolish one at that." Vegeta hissed. "I should beat you half to death right now for trying to run away from me. I should make it as slow and painful as possible… I should reduce you to such pain thast you'll beg for death, just to be relieved of your misery."
"I'm sorry!" Tadashi squealed, clapping his hands together as if he were about to pray. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I didn't know it was a lie when I went to the media! I thought it was the truth! I didn't know – I didn't know!"
"You had nothing to base your accusations on, and you knew that!" Vegeta spat, watching as Tadashi slid into a kneeling position on the floor. "In fact, I would say that you did such a thing out of spite. For every woman on this planet that must suffer such real consequences of a violent mate, you have insulted them. You have taken attention away from them by putting false focus on a hypothetical lie. You have mocked their circumstances, and for that you will pay."
"I thought I was helping her!" Tadashi crowed.
"You acted with malice!"
"How - How do you know, though?" The ex intern trembled. "How can you-"
"I am the angel of death." Vegeta hissed. "I know all when it comes to an inferior species such as you. Give me one reason why I shouldn't destroy you right now!"
"I-!" Tadashi squealed. "I-!"
…And then he began to cry the first thing that came to his mind. It was a slur of words, each syllable melting into the other as he wailed and begged for mercy. His cheeks were puffy and moist with tears as he stuttered the only thing that he could think of on to possibly make amends. And, as Tadashi wailed, Vegeta's grip of the boy loosened.
The truth of the matter was the entire night had gone exactly to plan. It was all falling together perfectly, and the end result was just as the saiyan had expected...
Yamcha hadn't even been in on what Vegeta had orchestrated. His protests of morals had been completely authentic, but the saiyan had anticipated such a thing. In fact, he'd been hoping that the Z-Fighter would have a change of heart after seeing how pathetic the beta male truly was. And Vegeta had been glad when he'd gotten enough of a buildup to throw a punch at Bulma's hateful ex.
The first swing had been an act, but the anger that came boiling out after that had been unexpected. The saiyan had nearly lost grip on his temper as he had been beating Yamcha, his frustration coming to the surface with this new opportunity. But Vegeta had managed to get himself back under control, and his rage had only worked to make the show of fists even greater.
What better way to terrify Tadashi than to give him a view of what was to come? If Vegeta had to actually use his hands on the beta, he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold back enough to actually keep the kid alive.
And the kid certainly needed to stay alive if his plan was going to come into fruition…
Vegeta had known he'd need to resort to other means of intimidation. And, to the saiyan's delight, this had meant pounding on one of the only other living men that Vegeta had such disdain for.
Now, as the beta child babbled and sobbed until he was gasping for air, the saiyan took a step back to watch the boy in his state.
'I've got him.' The saiyan thought, nodding smugly.
Everything was going absolutely perfect…
.
There was no telling how late it was when Vegeta landed in his own front yard. The night was so still that his own thoughts seemed to pass through his mind like a blowhorn, and the saiyan let himself into the house feeling as if he sounded like a drunk mess.
As he crept through his living room and towards the staircase, Vegeta couldn't help but remember how chaotic the place had been when he had left earlier in the day. With as silent as it was now, one wouldn't have guessed that a few hours earlier it had been filled with people who were speaking loudly and falling over one another. It was amazing how quickly his home had returned to its rightful state of peace, and the prince of all saiyans couldn't be any happier at the realization of it.
He was going to have his privacy once again!
Trailing up the stairs and down the hall, the saiyan stopped at Trunks' bedroom and carefully creaked the door open. He glanced inside to see the dark silhouette of the crib's remains, still laying in a messy pile just where the boy had destroyed it. 'How could I have forgotten?' Vegeta thought with a grin, trying not to laugh at the idea of his son being so strong that he'd accidentally torn up his furniture. Stepping back into the hall, Vegeta turned and made his way towards his own room.
Once the door shut behind him, Vegeta immediate ripped his clothes off. He kept his eyes on the outline of the Bluehead, who was laying with her back to him as he stripped down to only his boxers. The saiyan climbed into bed, slipping under the covers and scooting into the woman's body.
When his chest touched her back, she let out a low sigh. She arched against his touch, but otherwise did not stir. It was clear that she was deep in whatever dream she was having, and her calm demeanor was rubbing off on the saiyan prince. It was so soothing just to be so near her!
Thinking fondly that Kakarot's wife was now staying with her own father, the idea of getting to have more alone time with his family again made Vegeta grin. His hands, which had been dormant until that point, began to loosely trail towards Bulma's hips.
Admiring the woman who was so close against his skin, Vegeta began to slowly drag his fingertips along the outline of her body. 'I wonder if she'll react well to me waking her up like this,' Vegeta thought deviously, prodding his pelvis against her back. Slowly his hands continued to trail up along her figure, finding the hemline of her night shirt and carefully sliding it up.
It was when his palms wrapped around to the front of her stomach that Vegeta paused in action, noting that there was something unexpected there. It was a large bulk of flesh that seemed to be attached to Bulma's upper torso, and as Vegeta examined the object, his fingers found what felt like two small toes. And, as his hand moved up this specimen, he sure enough found that the toes were attached to a miniature foot.
'Of course!' He thought, quickly retracting his arm from around Bulma. Of course the boy would be sleeping with the Bluehead. Where else would he have been when the child had broken his own bed?!
Suddenly Vegeta felt the stinging shock of repulsion, biting his lip at the realization that he had been about to wake his Woman up for a spontaneous act of lust - while the boy had been laying right there beside them! The saiyan pushed himself away, scooting for the edge of the bed to add distance between himself and his son.
Sharing a bed… with his son? 'It's just wrong!' Yamcha's earlier words replayed in the saiyan's mind. Vegeta was suddenly struck with the need to go and find slumber on the couch downstairs. He clenched his hand into a fist, replaying the feel of the soft skin of his child's foot that he had unknowingly caressed.
… He heard Trunks groan in his sleep, the rustling of the blankets as the boy began to stir.
Then, Vegeta listened as Bulma "shh"ed the baby. He felt the mattress creak as she evidently pulled the boy tighter into her hold, planting an audible kiss somewhere on the toddler's head. "It's alright, baby." She breathed mindlessly. "Shh..."
She wasn't even awake, and yet she was comforting their son? How could such an instinct be so natural to her? How could Bulma be so carefree about showing such shameless affection towards the boy? Vegeta had never understood this about her. He'd never understood this blatant softness that she was able to be so genuine with… He never understood how she could be so kind, even to the saiyan prince, himself…
As Vegeta continued listening to his mate as she whispered sleepy nothings to their son, he began to reflect on his own childhood…
… Try as he might, Vegeta couldn't recall a single time he had received such tenderness from his own parents. His mother had been an avid believer in something that he'd heard described on Earth as "tough love". She felt that parenting was only done in one way - and that was with brutal threats and merciless fists. The saiyan had spent a lot of his time as a child dodging and blocking his mother's strikes, and this was regardless of any actions of his own.
If Vegeta had done something against the rules, he would easily expect to receive a lashing as a "lesson to not make the same stupid decision". And, if he hadn't misbehaved at all, he'd still receive the same lashing as a "precautionary measure" – just to make sure he always remembered his place.
His father hadn't been any better, though most of the times he had chosen to parent but showing utter indifference to the saiyan prince. At least his mother had given him attention each day - King Vegeta didn't see such use in acknowledging his only son. He could remember overhearing his parents during an argument one night, his father yelling "Babysitting a useless child doesn't suit the duties of a damned king!"
Kami, Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he turned back toward his sleeping kin. He could still only make out Bulma's form in the dark, her figure shielding Trunks from his line of vision. The Bluehead was so strange, wasn't she? She was absolutely peculiar, and yet it was in a good way… She was unlike anything he had come to expect of what a mother should be. She went against everything he'd known! Yet, as time passed and he grew used to her affectionate mannerisms, Vegeta found that he was rather fond of her nature.
Not that he'd ever admit such a thing, of course...
Especially after all of his berating and boasting, he could never utter than the Bluehead might be right about the boy…
'How did I manage to get here?' Vegeta thought, and this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Just a few years earlier the saiyan would never have expected to be where he was at that moment, laying in bed with a hot alien woman and the child they had created. Yet, there he was, and he was frightfully comfortable with such a fate.
Carefully and slowly, Vegeta began to scoot back towards his Woman. Settling back into the position he'd been in a few moments earlier, Vegeta pressed his chest against Bulma's back as his arms wrapped once again around her form.
… This time, his palm settled on the chest of his son. While it may have taken some getting used to, Vegeta didn't care to pull it away…
.
An urgent knocking at the front door had Bulma scrambling from Trunks' room the next day. It was just after lunch, and the hired workers had finally arrived to put together the toddler's new bed in place of his shattered crib.
The knocking at the door was so loud and frantic that the Bluehead nearly tripped over her feet as she ran down the stairs as fast as she could. As she rounded the corner towards the foyer, she could hear her mother's voice calling from outside. "Honey! Honey! Hurry up, dear!"
"What is it?" Bulma gasped when she finally swung the door open, and her blonde mother nearly trampled her as she went bursting into the house. "Hurry, dear! Quick! Before we miss it! You've gotta turn on Channel 9!"
"What's the matter?" Bulma was patting her hair back in place, watching her mother with marked intolerance as Mrs. Briefs went racing for the den.
"Just come on!" Mrs. Briefs called, finding the remote and clicking the television on.
"I don't care about TV, Mom." Bulma mumbled irritably, trying to keep her mood from souring. "You know that." Channel 9 was the 24/7 news station. It went without saying that Bulma had lost her faith in the news, so what on Earth would bring her mom to suggest such a thing?
"Oh, just sit down, already!" Mrs. Briefs snapped. She was holding her finger down on the volume button of the remote, and the television was growing louder by the second. Rolling her eyes, Bulma decided to just humor her mother, and she begrudgingly took a seat next to her on the silky couch. With her arms folded over her chest - in a very Vegeta fashion - the Bluehead scowled up at the TV screen. But, as she registered what she was watching, her face quickly softened.
There, sitting at a desk with camera flashes popping in his face as he spoke, was a restless looking Tadashi. There were deep bags under his eyes, which were bloodshot and swollen as if he'd been awake for days. The ex-intern appeared to be even more high-strung and fidgety than Bulma even remembered, his shoulders trembling as he spoke grimly at the camera.
"I made it all up." He was saying. "I paid an ex-roommate to doctor the photos of her face. I fabricated the story. There is not a grain of truth in the recent rumors about the state of Bulma Briefs' relationship. It was all perpetrated by me, and it was wrong."
Her deep blue eyes were wide as she watched the screen, her breath caught in her throat. Bulma watched in amazement as Tadashi continued to detail the inaccuracies and lack of proof he had in all of the accusations that had been rounding the press concerning her safety.
"Can you believe it, honey?" Mrs. Briefs squealed. "I never thought this would actually happen!"
"Ssh!" Bulma hissed, putting a hand on her mother to silence her.
"What would bring you to do such a thing?" A reporter was now asking the shaking boy on the TV. Tadashi gulped at the question, dropping his head to the table he sat at, as his trembling shoulders began to slouch.
"I don't..." He sighed. "I don't know... I don't have an excuse." Tadashi picked his head up then, facing directly towards the camera. Bulma raised her brows, the ex-intern's eyes staring straight into hers even though he physically was kilometers away.
"Bulma…" He said with morose. "I just hope you'll find it in yourself to forgive me… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Her lips were pursed, and it was at this that Bulma forcefully grabbed the remote from her mother and clicked off the TV. With a "hmph!" she stood and began to make her way back towards the stairs.
"Hey!" Mrs. Briefs called, jumping up to make after her daughter. "Where are ya goin'? What do you think of all that?!"
"I'm going to supervise my son's bed to make sure it's put together properly." Bulma replied, sounding more cross than Mrs. Briefs would have expected in a moment such as this. Shouldn't the Bluehead be happy? Shouldn't she be basking from the retribution?
"But-!"
"I think that I've already moved on from the mess that brat created, and the only thing that will come out of the press conference is the fact that the rest of the world knows just how full of shit he really is!" There was a snarl in Bulma's voice that made Mrs. Briefs nearly jump, but when Bulma looked over her shoulder the blonde housewife sighed with relief. Regardless of how residually angry Bulma obviously was about everything, there was still a sparkle in her eye. A hidden grin that she was refusing to show on her lips, but those beautiful eyes of hers could not mask it.
Mrs. Briefs nodded carefully, trying not to let on that she could see through her daughter's tough veil. "Where is Trunskie?" She asked, deciding it was best to let the matter drop.
"Oh? Where else would he be?" Bulma said, and it was then that she allowed herself to truly smile. "Right now he's in the training room. With his Dad."