Trauma

A Chibi Tail

By Talon

WARNINGS PLEASE READ BEFORE READING FIC

This is a very dark Chibi Tail and it deals with an event that is refered to in Dasia's Russian Roulette. There is molestation, violence and tons of angst. If you can't deal with this then please don't read this story. It is also very long. 41 pages on Word, so don't start it if you don't have time to finish it. This was a difficult fic to write, but I am pleased with the end result. I have had this in mind for awhile now, and Dasia's writing Russian Roulette sporked me into writing it. Now that it's done I can get back to BOAP.

Hn...this is dedicated to both my beloved Twin Dasia and For-chan, both of whom sporked me endlessly even when I swore that I was completly stuck and couldn't write another word of Trauma. Also to Auntie Akiya who didn't hate me after she read it. *smirks*

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Sage bit his lip as he considered what to wear to school. He really didn’t want to go, but short of telling someone why he didn’t want to go he had no choice. He shivered slightly, the morning air blowing in from the open balcony doors was chilly, and he was as yet undressed. He could hear pounding footfalls thundering down the stairs as his older brothers headed for the kitchen. Delicious breakfast smells wafted through the half closed door. He sighed, pulling on faded button-fly jeans that had once belonged to Goten, and a too-big long sleeved Capsule Corp t-shirt he had filched from Trunks’ side of the closet.

Barefoot, he padded over to the balcony. Maybe if he stalled long enough, he could get out of breakfast. Just the thought of the food that usually excited him into a ravenous frenzy left him a little more than slightly nauseous. And if he could avoid breakfast, he could avoid Tou’tan and Baka…hopefully. He switched his tail slightly, grimacing as the ache he had been ignoring for two days intensified, then settled to a dull throbbing. Just one more thing to hide, he thought miserably. But if he could get out of the house without confronting his father or bond-father…

Luck wasn’t with the little chibi, as his bond-father was already looking for and had found him. He watched from the slightly open doorway as the child sighed heavily and put his head down upon folded arms atop the balcony railing. Goku frowned. True, Sage tended to be grumpy in the morning, much like his father, but this…this melancholy wasn’t like the usually exuberant chibi at all.

He walked silently into the room, scenting his bond-son carefully. He didn’t smell…right. And something else. Sage was definitely hiding something. The strong blood-bond that he shared with all his sons and bond-sons was closed off. True, as the boys got older, the bond that let the Saiyjin parent’s know whenever something was wrong with one of the chibi’s did close somewhat as they grew and needed less and less parental supervision, but he still should have been able to feel something from his child. But then, he reasoned, Sage was a very private child…again like his father.

Sage jumped as Goku placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Baka, you scared me,” he said accusingly.

“Sorry chibi, but you’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t get a move on.”

Something flickered across Sage’s face too fast for Goku to be sure of what he saw.

“All right Baka,” said Sage quietly, and he turned and walked back into the bedroom. He slowly pulled on socks then struggled with his shoes, not having mastered tying the tricky laces yet. Goku knelt before his son, and tied the shoes swiftly, double-knotting them so that they wouldn’t come untied. As he tied them, he asked, not looking at Sage “Is something wrong? Something you want to tell me about?”

A long pause. Goku didn’t move from his position on the floor in front of the six year old. Then, a soft voice replied, “No, nothing’s wrong.” Goku looked sharply at Sage. His face was closed off, but his eyes held reflections of misery. The older man was torn. On the one hand, it was obvious that something WAS wrong. But Sage was going through so much trouble to hide what it was…should he press the matter, or respect the child’s privacy. Coming to a decision, he stood, and held his hand out to his bond-son. “Come on then, breakfast is waiting.”

Obediently, Sage put his small, slender hand inside the warm confines of his bond-father’s and descended the stairs into the bright noise of the kitchen. Goku deposited the undersized boy in a chair, and proceeded to unobtrusively observe him. Sage, who could hold his own against even Gohan’s appetite, picked at his breakfast, pushing it around on his plate. He was quiet, not rising to nor joining in the older boys’ loud jokes and laughter. When Bulma came into the room declaring that they would all miss the bus if they didn’t leave right now, Sage simply slid off his chair, grabbed his backpack and headed out the door, not noticing nor waiting for his brothers to finish shoveling what was left on the table into their mouths to hold their voracious appetites till lunch.

Goku frowned as he considered his observations. It was all too easy to overlook Sage when confronted by the duo of Goten and Trunks. Something was wrong. And he intended to find out what it was.

On the bus, Sage sat quietly in the seat beside his brothers, looking out the window, counting the last few minutes of freedom before they reached the school. Despite the age difference between them, a year between Goten and Trunks, and three and four years respectively between the two and Sage, the three were close, so it wasn’t long before the two elder boys noticed something amiss with Sage.

Trunks punched Sage’s shoulder playfully, “Hey chibi, you’re awfully quiet….what’s up?”

Sage didn’t turn nor give any indication that he had felt or heard his brother. In truth, he hadn’t. That cold feeling of panic and shame had started in the pit of his stomach. He could hear the clank of the metal on metal chains of the playground swings a couple of blocks before he could actually see any of the school. Trunks turned puzzled eyes to his counterpart.

Goten leaned over and shook Sage roughly, bringing the younger boy out of his trance. “What,” said Sage irritably as he flung Goten’s hand off from his shoulder. Both boys stared at him.

Finally Trunks said, “Chibi, you smell funny. Are you ok?”

Sage set his jaw and replied, “OF course I’m ok…why wouldn’t I be?”

Trunks and Goten exchanged looks. “Are you sure?” Goten asked finally as the bus pulled into the school parking lot.

“I’m fine,” muttered Sage.

“You’re not,” announced Trunks. “You can’t fool me Sage,” he accused. “You may as well tell us what’s wrong, cause we won’t let you off the bus till you do.”

Sage glared at them, looking like a miniature of their father, Vegeta. Maybe, he thought suddenly, a half-truth would put them off the scent. It would save him the trouble of going out the window…

He hung his head. “I’m having trouble reading,” he mumbled.

The two hellions were silent for a moment. “Is that all?” asked Goten. “That’s no big deal…”

“It IS a big deal,” broke in Sage. “It’s a BIG HUGE STUPID deal.”

“Well, it’s not like you can’t read at all,” pointed out Trunks reasonably. “You can read and write in Saiyjin-o after all. And I bet that Tousan would…”

“DON’T YOU DARE TELL TOU’TAN!!!

The duo jumped back. Goten opened his mouth, and Sage shot at him, “And not Baka either…Promise me, BOTH of you!!”

“But Sage, someone should know…”

“Mama already knows,” said Sage, calming down slightly. “They sent a note home. She’s known for more ‘n a week that they started getting me help with the teacher’s aide. Now promise you won’t say anything to Tou’tan or Baka…promise or else I’ll break both your jaws, I swear it!” Sage flickered briefly into Super Saiyjin mode as though to remind the both of them that he could, and he would carry through on his threat.

As one, the pair held up their hands and promised not to tell their father’s.

“That’s all right then,” said Sage slightly mollified.

“What’s the big deal Sage,” asked Goten. “I mean, they’ve got that Cozy Corner or whatever it is in your classroom, don’t you get out of class to work on your reading with the teacher’s aide?”

Sage was silent for a moment. “I used to,” he said slowly. “But two days ago, they started keeping me in at recess cause I wasn’t making enough progress.”

Goten and Trunks stared open mouthed at their brother. Trunks found his voice first. “But..but that’s not fair…you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said hotly.

“It doesn’t matter,” muttered Sage, not meeting their eyes. “Now I’ve told you, are you going to let me off the bus? We are the only ones still on here you know,” he said impatiently.

They glanced at each other, then moved out of the way so that Sage could scoot by. He paused in the walkway and faced them. “Remember, you promised.”

“Hai,” they replied.

“Hn…good.” And he left.

The two stood there for a few moments more. Then Goten, as though continuing a conversation they had been having said, “But it’s not fair for them to keep him at recess.”

“No,” agreed Trunks. He watched his brother blend into the crowd, easily the smallest boy there, though his hair was effortlessly distinguished. “He’s wearing one of my shirts, isn’t he?”

“Yeah…that purple one that’s almost too small for you.”

“Still too big for him.”

“Hai…but that never stops him from stealing clothes.”

“True…so what are we going to do Goten? He made us promise…”

Goten thought. Then he smiled. “He didn’t make us promise not to tell Gohan.”

Trunks grinned at his bond brother, and together they headed up to the school.

Sage stopped several doors away from his classroom to collect himself. Maybe today would be different he thought. Maybe today…thinking about it was no way to cope, he scolded himself firmly. He took a few deep breaths and prepared to walk into his waking nightmare.

The teacher’s aide, one Mr. Stan Burns was standing by the door, greeting students as he did every morning. The youngish sandy haired man was well liked by nearly everyone who met him. He was a great favorite among the children in the class, and it was considered a bonus to require extra help from him in the Cozy Corner during class. As a matter of fact, only one student didn’t like him, and hadn’t liked him even before he began having trouble with reading. And that was Sage.

Sage simply didn’t like the way the man smelled, not from the first moment he met him. He smelled bitter and dank to the chibi’s sensitive nose, and Sage avoided him like the plague. Then, a few weeks into the school year it became apparent that Sage was having difficulty learning to read. His father had taught him to read and write in Saiyjin-o, and he just couldn’t seem to make the connections work for what he considered a stupid backwards language.

That’s not to say that he didn’t try…he did. It frustrated him to no end. He was used to things coming easily to him, and didn’t appreciate the difficulty he was having. So he got sent to the Cozy Corner.

Sage walked past him through the doorway trying to hide himself in a large group of girls. It didn’t work.

“Good morning Vegeta,” came the cheery voice of Mr. Burns. Sage didn’t answer, as he scowled darkly and scuttled to his seat, trying not to think of what had happened in the Corner.

The first time, nothing had happened. Mr. Burns, though he preferred the students to call him Stan (Sage refused) had listened to him read, helped him with some things and then after about twenty minutes, had sent him back to his seat. Still, it felt creepy sitting so close to the man, and he fairly reeked of that dank and bitter smell. But the second time…Sage shuddered, remembering against his will.

Sage had started to read, haltingly to the teacher’s aide, when he felt a hand slide onto his tail. He went to jerk it away, but it was held firmly. He gasped as the man squeezed tightly, then ruffled his fingers through the blue-black fur. Mr. Burns leaned over the book, close to Sage and murmured to him to keep reading if he knew what was good for him. Even if his father’s hadn’t strictly forbidden powering up and/or ki blasts at school, Sage couldn’t have if he had wanted to, not with the painful grasp the man had on his tail. If he had touched him anywhere else first, it’s likely that what happened next might never have happened.

As he struggled to obey the aide, Sage to his horror felt the man’s other hand slide up his thigh to come to rest at the junction of his leg and hip. Then, slowly, it moved to cover his denim clad groin, fingers groping and rubbing gently. His head jerked up as the aide said quietly in his ear as though merely correcting a mistake in his reading, “Not a word, not a sound,” and he moved his hand squeezed hard on both Sage’s thigh and his tail. Sage let out a soft “eep” and nearly fainted from the pain. He didn’t see the illuminated look that crossed the predator’s face as he experimentally squeezed that wonderfully soft pelted appendage again. Sage breathed in sharply and whimpered almost inaudibly.

Stan Burns smiled. “Now, not a word to anyone,” he cautioned before he let Sage rejoin the class. “Especially your father. Just think how ashamed he would be of you. Why he probably wouldn’t want you as his son anymore. He certainly wouldn’t love you.” He smiled again at the shocked look on the child’s face. Bingo, he thought. The right button, on the first try.

Stan Burns had singled out the tailed child on the first day of school. There was a smooth sort of grace about the youngster that he found particularly appealing. And the fact that the boy did not seem to like him immediately as the rest of the class did made him even more attractive. A challenge of sorts. He watched him, fascinated at the casual arrogance that seemed to emanate from his smaller than average frame. The thought of those tiny hands on his cock, that proud face streaked with tears as it writhed and whimpered beneath him was almost enough to make him cum in his pants every time he thought about it.

Then heaven seemed to shine upon him. The boy had a problem reading. And the teacher, bless her heart sent him to the Cozy Corner for one-on-one tutoring with the Teacher’s Aide. Discovering that the strange, yet beautiful tail that waved elegantly behind the boy was extremely sensitive to pressure and pain had been a boon granted from God himself he was sure. The aide watched the child surreptitiously from the cushioned seats behind the colorfully clad table that made up the Corner. It was a beautiful thing, the Corner. His own design, in theory, made up to make the children that were having trouble feel more comfortable. It worked, and the long cloths that covered the table kept prying eyes from his prey.

The teacher had decided that even though Vegeta was making some progress that he needed more attention than could be given during class, and two days ago had started keeping him in at recess, leaving the two of them alone in the empty classroom. Stan grinned. Oh it had been such fun. And today, it would be again. His eyes roamed back to his chosen. He could see his attentions were beginning to wear on the boy, his shoulders slumped, his posture tense, and that lovely tail, twitching so agitatedly…a few more days, and that sweet little ass would be his for the taking.

Sage watched the clock. One hour…half an hour…fifteen minutes…ten…he shivered. He used to look forward to recess, his overlapped his brother’s and it was a great relief for him to see them during the school day. He hated being alone, and even in the crowded classroom, even before his…tutoring sessions…he felt alone. Rejoining with his brothers, (who were in the same grade even if they were a year apart), was the only thing that initially had kept him from running home the first few weeks at school. He needed to be able to roughhouse with his brothers, to let off steam. Five minutes…dear Dende…the bell rang and the room was emptied in a matter of seconds. The teacher smiled gently at Sage, then left the room herself, thinking longingly of a cup of coffee and a cigarette, and simply from habit, locked the door behind her.

Sage’s heart was in his throat, his stomach clenched hard in his fear. I am a prince, he reminded himself. I will NOT show any fear. It didn’t work. He trembled as he heard the voice calling him from the back of the room. As he trudged back, his mind whirred, going over the ki attacks he could use to blast the man into atoms. Not Final Flash, nor Big Bang, they would cause too much damage, and could hurt someone else. He could use Gohan’s Masenko attack…but it was too late. A hand had curled itself around his aching tail and led him back to the Cozy Corner.

Back at Capsule Corp, Goku was more than a little troubled at his son’s actions that morning. He considered going to Vegeta with his concerns, but his mate was training hard in the gravity room and Goku wasn’t in the mood to get suckered into a “spar” with his partner. He thought for a moment, then went to talk to the one other person in the household who might know something about what was bothering the little chukra. His mother.

Bulma was in her lab as usual, working on heaven only knew what when Goku entered. The blue haired woman greeted him cheerfully, and stopped what she was doing.

“What’s up Goku?” she asked, motioning to a chair opposite hers.

He sat, and got straight to the point. “I was with Sage this morning, something’s bothering him Bulma and he won’t tell me what it is. Do you know anything about it?”

Bulma thought for a moment, frowning slightly, then illumination spreading across her face. “I bet I know what it is Goku. He got a note sent home last week, saying that he was having trouble learning how to read, and that the teacher was going to get him extra help during the day with the teacher’s aide.”

Goku’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Sage is having trouble with reading?” he said in disbelief. “But he learned Saiyjin-o so easily…”

“That’s part of the problem,” said Bulma. “See, he can read and write and speak in his father’s language, and only speak in mine. It’s really a connection problem more than anything else. Once he can make the proper connections, it should go much faster. But remember, it’s Sage…he hates help with anything, especially something he thinks should be easy.” She sighed. “That’s his father’s genes coming out in him.”

Goku considered what she said. It was true, and made complete sense. Until he “got” it Sage was bound to be miserable, and would probably not want anyone to know about his problem.

“So, he’s already getting extra help?”

“Yup,” replied Bulma. “The teacher seemed really on top of it. She praised the rest of his work, especially in math, and said that she was certain that a little extra help would be all he needed to catch up with the rest of the class.”

“Hn…did you tell Vegeta about this?”

“You know, I don’t think that I did,” said Bulma in surprise. “I remember I had meant to tell him, but something came up, and I haven’t given it another thought since then.”

“Well if you don’t mind, I’m going to tell him,” said Goku standing up and preparing to leave.

“Better you than me,” grinned Bulma. She watched Goku walk out the door, grateful once again for the unusual circumstances that had brought them all together as a family. It really was easier with three parents instead of two, she thought as she returned her attention to her current project.

It was lunchtime at school, and Sage sat miserably at a table in the far corner. His brother’s he knew would be joining him soon, and he forced himself to eat another sandwich. He was still trembling slightly from what had happened at recess and he rubbed absently at his face where dried tear tracks itched slightly. His tail didn’t ache any more…it flat out hurt. He was sure something had cracked in it, and he had it currently draped very carefully across his lap.

He heard familiar voices, and scented two very recognizable scents as the pair moved away from a crowd of their classmates and walked over to the table where he sat. Sage struggled to get a hold of himself, and managed to succeed somewhat as the older boys sat down across from him, pulling out their own lunch capsules and piling the table high with sandwiches, fruit and Grandma Briefs’ special desserts.

For a few minutes, nothing at all beyond the curt “Hey Sage,” was said as the two boys dug into their lunches as though they hadn’t eaten in at least a month. Sage was pleased to note that his pile of sandwiches also diminished under their joined assault. He slowly peeled an orange and ate it, watching his brother’s eat their way through the huge pile on the table, slowing down finally when all that was left was a few pieces of fruit and the desserts.

They were leaning back leisurely and eating their way through the delicious pastries that Grandma had packed when Goten asked Sage how his tutoring session had gone.

“It went fine,” muttered Sage.

Trunks looked sharply at his brother. He smelled…”Sage, are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” said the chibi quietly.

“But you smell like you’re hurt,” persisted Trunks.

Sage hesitated. Damn Trunks and that nose of his. “My tail got caught in the door, that’s all. It’s still a little sore.”

“Oh. You should have Father check it out when we get home then.”

“It’s nothing Trunks…it’s just a little bruised,” Sage lied. “Damn,” he looked at his watch. “My lunch is almost over. I’ve got to go.” He retrieved his capsule and left the table, holding his tail behind him in the most natural position he could manage. One more recess to get through, he thought, and he could go home. He gulped as the memory of a couple of hours ago flashed back into his brain, unbidden and unwanted.

There was no pretense of helping Sage with his reading now, the man simply led the boy back to the table, put a book in front of him and instructed him to begin reading out loud, never relinquishing his painful grip on the blue-black tail. As Sage struggled to comply, the aide’s other hand began its slow journey up his leg and to his crotch, where it rested for a few minutes as Sage’s voice faltered over the story he was attempting to read. Sage was dismayed as fingers began to easily unbutton his jeans; he had chosen them hoping they would be too difficult for the man to manage and hold his tail at the same time, but Stan Burns had had a great deal of experience with little boy’s pants. The fourth and final button opened under the man’s skilled fingers and Sage stopped reading entirely as Stan fondled him through his underwear. A harsh tug on his tail and a hissed reminder that he had better keep reading brought a choked sob from the boy’s throat and the man took that opportunity to slide his hand under the waistband of the child’s briefs.

“Please…”cried Sage out softly, mindful of the firm grip the teacher’s aide had on his tail.

“But Vegeta, you make me do this, I’ve told you before.” And the man, smiling removed his hand from the boy’s underwear and took one of his small hands and guided it to his own erection. The child tried to jerk his hand away, but cried out as he squeezed hard again on his tail. “Now now, none of that. Leave your hand there,” he instructed as he released it. Sage obeyed, trembling, as the man undid his own pants, freeing his hardened member beneath the small hand. Stan placed his own hand over the little hand that rested trembling on his cock and began to move it up and down.

Tears of shame, pain and humiliation dropped onto the book in front Sage. He turned his face away, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening to him, but he couldn’t free his hand. He tried again, almost automatically as the aide’s hand began to move his faster over his erect length. There was a sharp, soft crack in his tail, and Sage shrieked in agony as Stan Burns erupted all over his hand.

The wet, salt evidence of pain streamed down Sage’s cheeks; he didn’t even notice the cooling semen that coated his hand. The aide casually wiped his own hand clean, then pressed the child’s hand to his mouth, forcing it open. “Lick it,” he hissed. Dazedly Sage obeyed as his hand was forced into his mouth, bitter and salty seed coating his tongue. The five minute bell sounded outside and Stan Burns quickly and efficiently cleaned up the mess, buttoning the boy’s jeans when he seemed unable to do so, and reminding him again what would happen if he told anybody. A final slow caress through the child’s jeans, lingering on both the child’s crotch and buttocks, and he sent the boy back to his desk, satisfied for the time being.

Sage paused outside the doorway to his classroom, forcing himself to calm. He could smell that Mr. Burns was in there, could hear that voice laughing and joking with some of the other kids. Sage felt sickened, and he fought the overwhelming urge to turn and run. Only the thought of having to explain why he was home so early stopped him. Mr. Burns was right, Tou’tan would be ashamed of him, wouldn’t think him worthy to be his son; even Baka would shun him, he was sure. He balled his fists furiously. He was stronger than that bakayaro, why couldn’t he stop what was happening to him?

He made himself walk back into the classroom, giving the Corner a wide berth, and settled himself at his desk, beginning to count the time until recess again.

Goku walked into the gravity room where his mate was going through a complicated kata at 450X’s gravity. He watched with fascination, and not a little arousal at the lithe sweaty body before him. Not surprisingly his koi ignored him until he had finished, then turned with a smirk on his face. It faded as Goku’s pensive scent clearly told the slighter man that lovemaking was NOT first and foremost on his mind.

“What is it Kakkarott?” he asked harshly.

“We need to talk Vegeta,” said Goku firmly.

Vegeta’s response was to lift a heavy black eyebrow.

“It’s about Sage.”

THAT got his attention. “What about him?”

“Did you know he’s been having trouble in school?” Nearly seven years with the Saiyjin prince had taught Goku the fine art of getting right to the point.

Vegeta stared at him. “What kind of trouble,” he asked finally.

“Trouble with reading. They sent a note home last week. I didn’t know either until I asked Bulma today. Sage was acting so strange this morning that I was worried. Have you noticed?”

Vegeta thought for a moment. “Yes, now that you mention it, he hasn’t bugged me in almost a week for a game of “tail tag.” They both knew that tail tag was code for training, as Bulma had put her foot down about Sage training. He could start when he turned six, and not before she had said. But Vegeta had found a way around it. When Sage was four, and extremely put out that he couldn’t train with his fathers and brothers Vegeta had started taking him into the gravity room and playing a Saiyjin children’s game called “tail tag,” where the object was to grab your opponent’s tail before he grabbed yours. He had gradually increased the gravity as the chibi got more skilled, and had subtly added in beginning training moves. Sage knew what was going on, as a matter of fact; everyone except Bulma seemed to be clued in as to what the marathon sessions of “tail tag” actually entailed. Sage was six now and had been training openly since the beginning of summer, but he still enjoyed playing tail tag with his fathers.

“Should we do something about it Kakkarott?”

“Bulma says that he’s already getting help at school. But watch him this afternoon and evening. He’s just not himself. I don’t think it’s going well.”

Vegeta nodded. “He won’t appreciate us interfering if he’s determined to overcome this himself,” he pointed out.

“I know,” replied Goku. “But I want to make sure that’s what’s really bothering him. For some reason, I think there’s more to it, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Hn…maybe the boys know something about it, ne?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. We can find out though.”

“Hai. Well there’s nothing we can do until they get home from school. Up for a spar koi?”

Goku grinned at his mate. “Sure ‘Geta…but only a spar.”

“Sure Kakkarott, whatever you say,” smirked Vegeta.

Sage closed his eyes and wished the classroom away. Wished himself far away. Dende’s Lookout would be almost far enough, he thought wistfully. The clock on the wall ticked down the minutes until afternoon recess, and Sage’s heart sank with every second that sped by. Ten minutes before recess was to begin, the teacher called him up to her desk and told him that she wanted him to get a head start on his afternoon session with Mr. Burns. Sage just stared at her, until somewhat impatiently she told him to go back to the Corner and start working.

He hadn’t expected this. The teacher’s aide sat back in the cushioned bench at the back of the room, a friendly, welcoming smile on his face. A hundred escape plans raced through Sage’s brain, but none of them made it to the surface as he approached the Corner. He stopped at the edge of the table, certain that he couldn’t take another step if his life depended on it

“Let’s get to work Vegeta,” said Mr. Burns, as though that was all that ever happened in the Cozy Corner. Still Sage didn’t move. His tiny hands clenched and unclenched as he stood there, memorizing the pattern of the long cloths that covered the table. From the front of the classroom, the teacher’s authoritative voice commanded him to take his seat at once. Sage obeyed. Hell began again.

From the front of the room, the teacher observed the pair. Stan Burns was really a wonder with children she thought. His head was close to Vegeta’s as he pointed out a mistake, and Vegeta haltingly corrected it. She sighed. She didn’t like keeping the child in at recess, but she didn’t want him to fall behind either. She hadn’t had any of his brother’s in her class, but she knew of them, and could tell herself that Vegeta was every bit as intelligent as she had heard the rest of his family was. He worked so hard too. She came out of her reverie as the bell rang for recess and she left the room with the thundering horde. She glanced back at the Corner as she closed the door…Vegeta never looked up.

As soon as the lock clicked, Stan Burns abandoned trying to teach Vegeta anything. He shoved the table away and pulled the protesting child into his lap, squeezing his tail to make him more compliant. Damn, the kid was hot…literally. He could feel the heat from Vegeta’s body right through the front of his pants, and he couldn’t wait any longer. Vegeta struggled and writhed on his lap, making it all the more exciting for the predator.

“Calm down Vegeta,” he said quietly into the boy’s ear, and reminding him who was in charge by squeezing his tail again. The kid let out a gasp of pain and stopped moving. “That’s better,” said Stan, as he once again began to unbutton his jeans again one handed.

Sage was stunned when Mr. Burns pulled him onto his lap, but not so stunned that he didn’t struggle. A harsh squeeze of his tail took nearly all the fight out of him as he came close to passing out from the intense pain. Coming back to himself, again he tried to extricate himself, but was unsuccessful as his tail was again clutched hard and practiced fingers began once more to unbutton his jeans.

Oh Dende, Sage thought wildly, someone please help me. Tears began making their way down his face as his pants were roughly pulled to his ankles. The hand holding his tail was pressed hard against his chest as the man’s other hand worked to open his own pants. Sage couldn’t do anything as it once again began to roam over his body, words he couldn’t distinguish were being whispered hotly in his ear, Dende no, not the underwear again…please? He cried out as his briefs went the way of his jeans and the man slowly and brutally fondled him, pressing him back hard into his lap, his hips grinding against Sage’s backside. Time seemed to stop, the pain in his tail making it difficult to tell if five minutes or five hours of this horror had passed. The questing hand left his groin and traveled around to his backside, caressing, pinching, trailing a finger along a place it really shouldn’t be. Sage jumped as the finger moved between his cheeks, and with a vicious crushing squeeze on his tail he simultaneously heard a sharp crack from his tail and felt what seemed like a finger trying to push its way inside of him, then his head slumped forward on his chest and he passed out from the combination of sheer terror and agonizing pain.

Burns felt the small body in his grasp go limp as he attempted to get a finger inside his tight little entrance. He grinned, victory was in sight, but as he made to try again, the five minute recess bell sounded, and he cursed. With the ease of long practice, he re-dressed Vegeta, and then with some difficulty himself, then laid the child down on the cushioned bench as though he had simply fallen asleep.

That was the scene the teacher walked in on…the Briefs boy seemingly asleep and Stan sitting close by him grading papers. She smiled and walked over to the aide.

“He must have been working hard,” she said.

The man smiled sunnily back at her. “Yes,” he replied. “He’s making real progress. Should I wake him?”

The teacher thought for a moment, as she watched the boy sleeping peacefully. “Yes,” she said regretfully. “You’d better wake him before the rest of the class comes back from recess.” Stan nodded, and began to gently shake Vegeta as she walked to her desk at the front of the room.

She heard a sharp gasp, and she looked up to see Vegeta staring wildly around as Stan calmed him. He must not remember where he is, she thought sympathetically, then her attention was diverted as the class began to file back in. Vegeta walked to his desk slowly, as though he was still half asleep, and sat down, his head in his hands.

The bus ride home seemed to take forever. Sage stared out the window ignoring his brothers, wondering how he was going to avoid his parents tonight, and trying to ignore the horrible pain in his tail. He couldn’t straighten it out properly, it was kinked, broken he was sure in at least one place. Even if he could manage to walk with it wrapped around his waist, he couldn’t wrap it around his waist…it just wouldn’t loop properly. Dende only knew how he was going to hide THAT.

His brothers ignored him, whispering together about what to tell Gohan when he came home that evening. The bus dropped them off a block from Capsule Corp as usual, and the trio walked home, Sage dragging behind the two older demi-Saiyjins, wincing slightly as every step jarred his tail. Also he felt…dirty. He could smell that…man’s…stench on him, and he could still feel his hands…Sage broke out into a cold sweat as he forced the memories back at bay. A hot shower first, he decided…then a soak. Maybe that would reduce the ache in his tail and get that stench off of him. Maybe it would wash away the lingering memory of hands on his skin…. First things first though, he needed to get past his parents.

As they approached the back door, he reached out feeling for his father’s bright ki’s. He was in luck. They were both in the gravity room, and judging by the fluxouations in their ki’s, they were occupied and would be for some time. He followed his brother’s into the kitchen where Grandma was waiting with snacks. Trunks and Goten were so exuberant that it was a simple matter to slip unnoticed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the boy’s shared sleep-room.

He pulled off his clothes hurriedly, stifling a cry as he drew his tail through the hole in the back of his jeans, and stuffed them deep into the hamper in the closet. He walked into the large bathroom and started the faucet in the deep sunken tub; it would stop automatically when it was full then walked over to the shower and turned it on as hot as he could stand it. He sighed in relief as the water pounded down on him, and he began to scrub as hard as he could all over, washing that scent away with strong peppermint soap.

After four or five thorough scrubs and twice as many tooth brushings, he stepped out of the shower and into the tub, lowering himself carefully as the hot water stung his raw skin. He put both hands over his mouth as his injured tail sank slowly beneath the water, the pain almost too much for him to bear. He bit down hard on his hand, and after a moment, tasted blood. He leaned back and tried to relax, but it was impossible. He couldn’t keep his mind from going back over and over what had happened. He needed to clear his mind.

He breathed deeply three times, filling his lungs to their fullest capacity, then sank below the surface of the water, closing his eyes and counting as he attempted to meditate. He knew he could hold his breath for at least ten minutes, he’d seen his father do twenty, and would automatically surface when it was getting close to his limit so he didn’t worry about accidentally drowning. For some reason, he found the muted sensations of being surrounded by warm water incredibly soothing and comforting. Ten minutes later, he was somewhat successful as he rose to the surface calmer, and with an idea. The reason he was being kept in at recess was because he wasn’t making enough progress…small wonder when you considered what actually went on during those “tutoring sessions.” But if he could improve enough, maybe the teacher wouldn’t make him stay in at recess anymore, maybe he could stop going back to the Corner all together.

He let the water out of the tub and climbed out, wrapping himself in a large soft drying cloth, lifting his tail carefully as he found the least painful position to carry it in. His usually spiky black hair hung around his face and down his back as he searched for something to wear. In the bottom of one of Goten’s drawers he found an old soft pair of sweat pants that fit him almost perfectly; he nearly fainted as he threaded his tail through the hole in the back, and under the large communal bed he discovered a shirt of Gohan’s and a solution to his tail problem. He pulled on the much-too-large t-shirt, it hung easily to his knees and was baggy enough that his tail fit effortlessly beneath it without him having to attempt to wrap it around his waist. He breathed in the scent of his eldest bond-brother; it was strong and comforting…just like Gohan.

Downstairs Gohan had just walked through the door and was immediately glomped by his two brothers. Even Goku and Vegeta came out of the gravity room to greet the college student. Gohan laughed and looked around. “Where’s Sage?” He was puzzled. Usually the chibi was the first one to greet him when he walked through the door. He knew that Sage missed him since he had moved in part time to the dorms, but it couldn’t be helped. Even for Gohan, the pre-med curriculum was grueling, and commuting back and forth every day had proven to be too draining on the boy. He found that he couldn’t manage a full time move to the college however, he missed his family too much. So he had found a compromise and came home every few days to have dinner and spend time with his fathers and brothers and to sleep over.

There was something going on, he realized when no one answered his question. “Does anyone know where he is?” asked Gohan. No answer. “Never mind,” he sighed, and reached out, searching for his youngest brother’s ki. It was dampened, but clear, “He’s in the bedroom.” He looked back at his family. Goku and Vegeta were watching Trunks and Goten with sharp eyes; Goten and Trunks were trying to convey something to him without saying anything. Gohan was starting to get annoyed. “Somebody had better tell me what’s going on, and be damn quick about it.”

Goten and Trunks grabbed his hands and dragged him into the living room, hurriedly whispering to him what Sage had told them on the bus as they heard their father’s following them. “Don’t tell Daddy and Papa that we told you,” said Goten pleadingly. “We promised we wouldn’t tell them, and that would almost be like us telling them straight out.” Before he could say anything to that remarkable statement, the two boys had dashed out of the living room, to Kami only knew where. He realized why as his father and Vegeta-sama walked into the room.

“So, “ said Vegeta calmly. “Anything interesting in the news?”

Gohan stifled a laugh. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Upstairs Sage was struggling with the books he was supposed to be able to read. He thought longingly of the data chips in the play room that were all in Saiyjin-o. He could read THOSE, he thought bitterly. He forced himself to stay at the desk, trying again and again to make sense of the language in front of him. He HAD to do this. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, in a vain attempt to push back the tears that were welling up not only in his eyes, but his chest and throat as well. The trauma of the last week and a half finally burst out of him in a flood of tears. He flung the books across the room and wept into his arms, no longer caring if anyone heard or saw him.

As it happened, one person did see him and hear him. Gohan was on his way to the bedroom in search of his youngest bond-brother, when he heard the crash of books flying across the room and meeting the wall. He peeked his head in the door and to his shock, saw Sage sobbing in abject frustration. It wasn’t a scene he had seen very many times in Sage’s life. The chibi simply didn’t cry. The few times he had were memorable not only in Gohan’s mind, but he knew in everyone else’s minds as well. He didn’t hesitate however, as he crossed to the desk and picked Sage up, and held him tightly to his chest, soothing him.

“Saaa, chibi, it’s ok…”

“It’s NOT,” cried Sage. “It’s NOT ok, I can’t do it Gohan, I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t do it.” And a fresh wave of tears cascaded down Gohan’s shirtfront.

He hugged his little brother securely, and said quietly, “Will you let me try to help you?”

Slowly Sage’s tears stopped. Gohan looked down at the little face, eyes red and puffy, tears glimmering wetly on cheeks that were still baby round. “You’d do that?” asked Sage softly.

“Of course,” smiled Gohan. “Can’t have you missing recess now, can we?”

Sage smiled back at his bond-brother hesitantly. Gohan hugged him again, and dropped a brief kiss on the top of his head. “Here, let me put you down,” and he sat the younger Vegeta down on the bed, “And I’ll see what you’ve got in the way of books.” He walked over to the pile of flung reading material and glanced through it, frowning slightly. He gathered them up and stacked them neatly on the desk. “Wait here a minute Sage,” he said as he left the room.

He came back a few moments later with a couple of books in his hand, and he sat down on the bed beside Sage. “Let’s try with these first, hn?”

Two hours later, Sage was amazed and delighted at the ease with which he read through not only the books that Gohan had brought, but most of the books his teacher had said he was supposed to be able to read. It made sense…it actually made sense! Sage smiled for what seemed like the first time in days. The horror of the past week and a half was forgotten, the pain in his tail went unnoticed as he hugged Gohan and thanked him over and over again.

Gohan laughed. “I don’t understand what the problem was, chukra…who ever was trying to teach you to read obviously wasn’t explaining it very well.” Sage stopped smiling for a moment, then pushing the thought away, he grinned up at Gohan.

“Thanks Go-chan, I’ll be able to go outside tomorrow for sure!”

“Well that’s what we were aiming for after all,” said Gohan stretching. “Hey chibi, do you smell what I smell?”

It was an old game, a babyish game, but Sage was in too good a mood to scoff at it. “No Go-chan, I don’t smell anything…what do you smell?”

“Hn…I think I smell someone’s favorite dinner.”

“Really? What would that be?”

“Hn…smells like Gran’s famous MEAT-meatloaf…”

“I love Grandma’s meatloaf…”

“And her special mashed potatoes with scallions and cheese…”

“My mouth is watering niichan…”

“Green beans with onions and almonds..”

“Be still my heart…”

“Homemade cinnamon applesauce…”

“Homemade applesauce? Are you sure??”

“Yep…it smells like…SAGE’S favorite dinner!!” Sage giggled helplessly as Gohan tickled him.

“C’mon chukra, I’ll give you a ride downstairs to dinner,” and he looped his thick dark brown tail around the slight six year old and lifted him effortlessly. He mock grunted and groaned though, “Damn Vegeta, you’ll outweigh Dad soon,” as he carried the giggling chibi downstairs to the dining room table.

The intense scrutiny that Sage started out under at the beginning of dinner lifted gradually as he ate and acted much more like his normal self. Despite the constant sharp shooting pains in his tail, he was confident that his plan would work. After all, he was almost caught up with the class now, thanks to Gohan. He actually felt hungry, and did Gran’s cooking proud as he polished off his fifth helping.

He didn’t know it, but both his father’s and all of his brother’s were relieved to see him acting so normally. He didn’t mention Gohan’s helping him, or anything about school in fact, and they didn’t ask him.

“Are you staying the night, niichan?” asked Goten hopefully.

“Course I am,” replied Gohan ruffling his younger brother’s hair. “Might come home tomorrow too,” he added. “I’ve got some things to do.” He didn’t miss the lighted look in Sage’s eyes as he realized what Gohan meant.

Bedtime, and Sage crawled into the far corner of the bed, carefully putting his tail between himself and the wall. He usually ended up in a heap with Goten and Trunks, but he didn’t want to risk it with as badly as his tail seemed to be hurt. Trunks and Goten were squabbling in the bathroom still, when Gohan came into the room, dressed for sleep. Sage was surprised, usually Gohan was up much later studying, and then slept in his own bedroom these days instead of joining what their parent’s affectionately called “the puppy pile” in the shared bed.

Gohan climbed into bed beside Sage and laid down. He hesitated, then sensing that somehow his youngest brother needed him; that was why he was there in the first place after all, he opened his arms, and Sage snuggled into them. He sighed contentedly, bathed in his niichan’s comforting scent as Gohan’s tail wrapped itself around his waist in a gesture of reassurance, and he slept almost immediately, soundly and deeply…and without nightmares for the first time in more than a week.

Gohan was gone when he awoke the next morning, and he barely stifled a cry of pain as a bone grated in his tail. Trunks and Goten were lying sprawled across the bed, arms, legs and tails tangled together, Goten snoring gently. Sage wasn’t surprised that Gohan was gone; he knew that he had an early morning class on Thursday. Panic fisted suddenly in the pit of his stomach as he remembered he had to go to school today. What if he couldn’t remember how to read like he had last night?

He crawled off the end of the bed and quietly opened one of the books he was supposed to read, and sighed with relief as the words once again made sense to him. He closed it and walked out onto the balcony thinking hard about how best to approach the teacher.

He was quiet at breakfast, clad for once in his own jeans, but wearing a shirt of his father’s that although it was smaller, like Gohan’s the night before, hid his injured tail from sight. The shirt wasn’t clean, but that was the way Sage liked them best. He could smell Tou’tan all day, and even an undertone of Baka on his shirt. He noticed his father and bond-father watching him as he ate. He scowled at them, “What?”

Goku grinned at his bond-son, hiding the concern he felt. “Just admiring your shirt chibi,” he said cheerfully.

Sage stuck his bottom lip out. “Hn,” he said, unconvinced. His father said nothing, just watched him with sharp onyx eyes, arms folded in his usual position. Sometimes adults were just plain strange, thought Sage as he finished his breakfast, deciding to ignore his fathers.

The bus ride to school was uneventful, as Sage managed to keep his brothers off his scent by telling them that Gohan had helped him last night, and that he expected to see them at recess. Twin grins on their faces told him that they had told Gohan. Hn…well he couldn’t really be angry with them, after all he hadn’t made them promise not to tell their older brother, and he had to admit that it had been an excellent idea on their part.

He still had no idea how to approach the teacher as he tried vainly to avoid Mr. Burns when he walked into the room. The man actually reached out and touched him, his hair in fact, as though in greeting. Sage fought off a tremor of unease and walked quickly to his seat.

As it turned out he didn’t need to approach the teacher, she called him up to her desk later that morning and had him read for her. She was very pleased with his progress she told him, and that yes of course he could have his recesses today but that she still wanted him to work for awhile with Mr. Burns in the afternoon. Sage’s face fell. But, she continued she was going to send a note home with him, for his parents telling them of the progress he had made.

Sage left the teacher’s desk feeling very conflicted. On the one hand, he had won his recesses back…on the other hand; he STILL had to go to the Corner that afternoon. He sighed heavily and returned to working in his math workbook.

On the whole, until it was time for his session with Mr. Burns, despite the agonizing constant pain in his tail, the day was fairly satisfactory for Sage. He played and ate with his brothers, did his class work, and tried somewhat successfully not to think about what had happened to him, and what was surely going to happen to him again. His only comfort was the knowledge that the man surely wouldn’t dare to go very far with the entire class and the teacher still in the room.

When the teacher reminded him that he needed to go back to the Corner, Sage set his jaw and walked back, trembling only on the inside. For the first few minutes, he followed the man’s instructions, writing down words that he was supposed to know. He felt the grip on his tail, mercifully not in the places it was already broken and a hand crept to his crotch, expertly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Sage squirmed, unable to stop himself, and the aide squeezed his tail just hard enough to really get his attention as the other hand slid down the back of his jeans, coming to rest so that the man’s large hand was palming Sage’s bottom. Then the fingers started as Sage fought to keep his face and body still. Dende-sama, he was going to have bruises, he thought desperately. And that finger again, pressing into him, it burned….Sage didn’t know how long he fought that furious battle with himself, with his attacker, but it was with great relief when the hand slid out from his pants and he was instructed in a hissing whisper to fasten them up and return to his seat, and to not forget what he already knew…it was his fault.

The teacher smiled at him on the way out the door to the bus, and handed him and envelope with his mother’s name on it. “Make sure your mother sees this Vegeta,” she said. “I want her to know how far you’ve progressed.” He thanked her politely and put the note in his backpack.

When they got home, he put the note on the counter where Kassan always looked for things that needed her attention and promptly forgot about it. He showered again, scrubbing the taint of those hands from him, cringing as his tail wrung a cry of anguish from his throat, and hiding it again under a large shirt…nicked this time from Baka.

His brother’s asked him if he wanted to spar with them, but he declined, saying that he had to work on his reading or else he’d end up back inside at recess. They thankfully didn’t press the issue, and left him alone.

He managed to eat a decent amount of dinner, especially after Gohan helped him with his reading again before hand. He didn’t notice the concerned looks that he got from his father, but with the pain in his tail increasing by the second it seemed, he didn’t notice much of anything. Kassan didn’t make it to dinner, she was working late in the lab, he noticed that anyway.

He curled up as tightly as he could in the corner of the bed, thumb in his mouth, a babyish practice he had not yet completely abandoned, and crying silently when his tail out of habit tried to curl around his hand. He was asleep when Goten and Trunks came to bed, and he slept almost unnaturally heavily all that night.

Friday morning dawned bright and hot, and Sage groaned as Trunks shook him gently awake. He didn’t know how much longer he could manage to keep this up. His tail was burning, almost like he had burned yesterday when the aide had pressed a finger inside him. It HURT, more than anything had ever hurt in his life. Still, his Saiyjin blood and pride was strong….and he could bear the physical pain easier than the rejection and disgust that he was sure his father would show him if he ever found out. That would be real pain, not to know the love of his fathers anymore.

Somehow he managed to get dressed and walked unsteadily downstairs to breakfast. Everyone but Gohan was already there, and eating…Friday breakfast’s were always good cause it was the beginning of the weekend and Gran started baking on Friday’s. Kassan was looking through her pile of “needs attention” as she called it when Sage climbed up into his chair and helped himself to a Saiyjin sized strawberry-kiwi muffin.

He had just started on his second, and was feeling better, when his mother opened the note his teacher had sent home.

“Well Sage,” she said happily. “I am very proud of you! The teacher says you have made some tremendous progress and she’s very pleased with you.”

Sage beamed. Bulma continued. “She says that since you have shown so much improvement with your recess sessions,” she paused, frowning. “I didn’t know they had been keeping you in at recess.” She continued. “That she would like for you to instead of staying in at recess to stay after school a couple of days a week for extra help with the teacher’s aide, Mr. Burns. Well,” said Bulma, folding the letter and not looking up at her son. “That sounds all right with me, I mean after all, it’s obviously working…”

A choked noise sounded through the rowdy kitchen, and everyone looked at Sage. His face was dead white, and his eyes were huge. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He swallowed, hard, and said in a voice almost too faint to hear…

“Please…please don’t…please don’t make me….”

Alarmed, Goku reached out to touch his bond son on the arm, and was shocked when Sage jerked away from him, shouting “DON’T TOUCH ME!!” He jumped down from his chair, and falling once, he ran from the room. Vegeta was up and following him barely a heartbeat later.

For the first time in an extremely long time, the Saiyjin prince was scared. Something was VERY wrong with his youngest son. What scared him the most was that he should have known something was wrong. He reached out through the blood-bond he shared with all his children, and came up against a brick wall that he recognized as Sage. How had the child gotten so good at blocking him out, he wondered frantically. He paused, and shifted his search, using his nose instead of searching through the blocked blood bond, or feeling for a ki he was certain was suppressed.

He followed the fresh scent of his youngest son, a scent he noticed that was tinged with a repulsive sour odor, fear…no…terror, to the room he shared with his mate. But when he walked into the room it appeared to be empty. He looked around, then stopped and listened carefully, scenting deeply, then turning to the closed closet door. He could smell his son, hear his gasping breaths that he struggled to smother…and blood…he could smell blood. He opened the door to the closet slowly, and giving his eyes time to adjust to the darkness inside, he looked around not seeing Sage immediately. Then, at the back of the deep closet, behind the clothes hamper, he saw the tip of a blue-black tail he knew very well.

He walked quickly to the back of the closet, and stopped, gasping in shock at the scene that met his eyes. Sage, curled over onto himself, biting his hand so hard that blood was pooling on the floor in front of him, rocking back and forth with sobs wracking his slight frame. Vegeta knelt beside his child, and gathered him into his arms, startling as Sage flinched violently and struggled to free himself.

“Shhh, Sage, calm down son, it’s me, it’s Tou’tan,” he said soothingly, using Sage’s pet name for him. His words seemed to have no effect on the frantic child. “Sage, what is it? Tell me, please,” he begged.

“Don’t…don’t….don’t make me…please, even if you hate me,” whispered Sage.

“What are you talking about?” asked Vegeta completely baffled.

“Please don’t make me do it,” implored Sage, still whispering wetly.

“Whatever it is, I promise you don’t have to do it,” said Vegeta firmly. He grasped his son’s chin firmly and turned his tear-streaked face to his own. “Tell me, what is wrong?”

“I…I…I…can’t…”

“You can tell me, you know you can tell me anything Vegeta, tell me!”

“I can’t tell you this,” came the almost inaudible reply.

“Why not?” asked Vegeta, bewildered.

In a voice so soft, so faint that even Vegeta’s sensitive ears struggled to pick it up, he heard…”Because I still want to be your son.”

Vegeta was stunned beyond words for a long moment. Then knowing somehow it was vitally important that he reply to his son, he gripped him firmly and forced him to look in his eyes. “Child, there is nothing that you could ever do that would make me renounce you as my son. EVER.”

Sage’s eyes clearly said that he didn’t believe him. It was confirmed when he whispered, “You don’t know…if you knew, you’d hate me. You wouldn’t want me anymore,” and tears surged down his baby round cheeks.

Vegeta sat down and pulled his sobbing son onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around him and purring deep in his chest. When Sage’s sobs had quieted slightly, he said “You are my son. I love you. Nothing can change that. But Sage, you MUST tell me what is wrong. I can’t help you unless you do.”

Sage drew a great, shuddering breath and looked up at his father. “Don’t make me go back there,” he said quiveringly. “He’ll…he…it hurts,” he whimpered.

“Who Sage,” asked Vegeta, only just holding on to his temper. Someone had hurt his child.

“The teacher’s aide,” faltered Sage, not quite daring to look at his father. “Mr…Mr…Burns.”

Quietly Vegeta asked, “What did he do to you?”

But that proved to be too much for the child, as he broke down into tears again. Vegeta waited, purring soothingly, calming himself and Sage. “Tell me, please,” he asked when Sage had calmed down a little. “I promise, I won’t hate you,” and as he said it, his heart turned over at the very thought that his son could believe that he was capable of hating him.

“He…he…he touches me,” Sage managed to gasp out before he could stop himself. Once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. His words came out in a jumble. “He touches me, makes me touch, can’t stop, hurts me…please, know it’s my fault, please tou’tan…don’t hate me?” he pleaded.

Vegeta was horrified. He discerned without difficulty what Sage meant by “he touches me,” as he recalled his own childhood with that bastard Ice-jin Frieza. Damnit, he had sworn when his children were born that they would never have to bear the torture he had as a child, and he had failed. He had failed his son. His mind whirred, skipping from here to there, wondering just how far this bastard had gone with his son, when he thought of something. Frieza had been much more powerful than he had been, he’d had no choice but to submit to the Ice-jin’s twisted pleasures. But Sage was a Super Saiyjin…how on earth had a puny ningen managed…his eyes fell on his son’s gorgeous blue-black tail, and he gasped.

It was kinked, probably broken, severely, it looked like in two places. Dear Dende, the child must be in horrible agony. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get much sense out of the child now; it was physical pain he realized as much as emotional anguish that was causing his son’s near hysterics. “When did he hurt your tail so badly Sage,” he asked calmly.

“Two…two days ago.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened as his respect for his son grew to immense proportions. Two days with a broken tail; Kami-sama, he had known elite soldiers who had gone straight to the regen tanks with a mere kink in their tails, claiming they couldn’t function with the pain. He himself knew the kind of pain a broken tail could cause, and hell…two fucking days!

He collected himself with a slight shake of his head. “Sage, I need you to open yourself back up to me, so I can find out what has happened to you. I tell you this now, nothing that happened was your fault. You did nothing to deserve this. If anyone is to blame besides that fucking bastard Burns, it’s me.”

Sage’s eyes were wide as he looked at his father. “You Tou’tan? But you didn’t do anything…”

“Exactly,” interrupted Vegeta. “If I had told you what had happened to me while I was working for Frieza, you would have known that you could have come to me when it first happened.” He hugged his son tightly to him. “I am sorry chukra, I would have done anything to spare you this pain. Please, I need to know what he did to you.”

Sage nodded hesitantly, beginning to trust himself again. He concentrated, hard on opening the bond he had worked so hard to close only two weeks ago. He managed to make a sizeable hole in it before his strength and resolve gave out. It was enough for Vegeta. Sage’s repressed memories of the past two weeks flooded into his mind. He cringed as his son’s thoughts of what he and Goku would do if they found out, the guilt, the shame, the pain…oh the pain. Vegeta’s heart broke for his son, but he pushed his emotions aside for the moment. Sage needed him right now, there was time enough later to go over the memories and pick out exactly what had happened. For the time being he was satisfied that Sage hadn’t actually been raped…though from what he could see it was a near thing. He had no doubt that if his son had been sent to those after-school sessions…he growled, then bit it off. Sage was still whimpering quietly into his chest, and he needed medical attention, now.

He carefully carried him into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, laying Sage carefully down on the rumpled sheets. He hesitated, knowing what Sage’s frame of mind would be, but there was no getting around it.

“I need to take your pants off, Sage. I need to check your tail over and see what kind of damage he’s done to you. I know it will probably make you uncomfortable, but…”

Sage interrupted him. “No, Tou’tan, it’s ok. I trust you. YOU won’t hurt me.”

Vegeta smoothed spiky bangs down on his son’s forehead. “I’m going to try my best not to hurt you son, but your tail is badly damaged. I can’t promise that it won’t hurt.”

“It hurts all the time anyway,” was the low response.

Vegeta closed his eyes briefly. “I know son,” he said softly.

Sage didn’t reply, simply unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and rolled over onto his stomach, stifling a cry of pain as his tail was jarred. Vegeta carefully removed his son’s pants and briefs, cringing as Sage cried out as his tail was threaded through the openings in his clothing.

He was unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. He had only considered looking at his son’s tail, but his eyes fell on a backside that was peppered with bruises, and what looked like finger gouges, scabbed over with dried blood. Frowning, he turned Sage over, and gasped as he saw his son’s violated genitals. Again, bruises marred the soft skin, and his penis and testicles were raw and swollen, discolored with bruises that sickened Vegeta. Here the dried evidence of fingernails was more prominent. Once more Vegeta suppressed a growl.

He covered Sage back up with the shirt he was wearing, noticing that it was one of his mate’s. It was long enough that the child had some semblance of modesty, and he thought for a moment how best to do this.

“Sit on my lap,” he instructed his son, who obeyed. He turned Sage so that he was sitting sideways so that his tail was laid out over the bed. He spoke softly in his son’s ear. “I want you to bite on my shoulder, it will help.” He felt Sage nod, and as he carefully grasped the base of his namesake’s tail, he felt sharp teeth pierce the skin on his upper arm as Sage moaned in agony. He swiftly raised his ki where Sage was biting him, hardening his skin so that Sage wouldn’t actually take a chunk out of him, and gently began to run his fingers down the length of the limb.

It was broken, badly in two places, and dislocated in a third. Before he was done, Sage had fainted from the pain, and Vegeta held him carefully, not willing to release him, thinking hard. He called to Kakkarott through their mate-bond, and a moment later, the man flickered into view beside him.

Words weren’t needed to fill in his mate on what had happened to their son. Only a meeting of minds, and a brief second later, Goku had flamed into Super Saiyjin in his fury.

“Calm down, koi,” said Vegeta. “Right now we need to think of Sage. Are there any senzu beans in the house?”

Goku shook his head. “We’re completely out.”

“Well then, I need you to stay here with Sage for a few minutes. I need to talk to the boys before they leave for school.”

Goku nodded, and Vegeta handed his mate their son. He lingered for a moment, stroking his child’s soft hair, then stalked swiftly out of the room.

Goku watched him leave, his tail lashing furiously behind him. He powered down and sat on the bed, watching his bond son sleep. A moment later, Sage stirred and opened his eyes.

“Baka?” he asked fuzzily.

“Hai, chibi, I’m here. It’s ok, no one is going to hurt you now.”

Sage squirmed briefly, then settled, realizing that Baka knew everything…and he still loved him. Sage could feel his bond-father’s affection and strength washing over him in a comforting cascade of reassurance, and he relaxed, absently tucking his thumb in his mouth, then crying out as his tail again tried assume it’s accustomed place around his hand. To his surprise, he felt soft velvet fur on his hand, and opened his eyes to see the dark brown length of his Baka’s tail wrapping itself around his hand. Sage closed his eyes with a contented sigh, and slept.

Downstairs, Vegeta caught the two boys as they were about to leave to walk to meet the bus, having been told by Goku just a few minutes earlier that Sage wasn’t going to school that day and not wait for him.

“Is Sage all right Papa?” asked Trunks anxiously.

“He’s not feeling well, but he will be fine,” replied Vegeta. No sense in telling them what was going on right now, later was better thought Vegeta. “Now listen to me carefully, both of you. If anyone asks about Sage, where he is, why he isn’t in school today, you say this, and only this: “He was feeling ill, so our father kept him home from school today.” Just that, and nothing more. I don’t care if it is the principal or one of your snot-nosed school friends, you say the same thing. Do you understand?”

“Hai Papa,” they said in unison.

“Good,” he said. “Now go, before you miss your bus.”

They obeyed, scooting out the door. They had been raised by the Saiyjin no Ouji; they knew when to simply do as they were told and ask no questions.

Vegeta sighed and turned towards the kitchen where Bulma and her mother were. They sat at the table, talking quietly. Silence fell as Vegeta entered the room, and Bulma stood quickly, her eyes worried.

“What is it Vegeta, what is wrong with him?”

“Sit down Bulma.”

She did so, startled by the quiet venom in his voice, knowing it wasn’t directed at her. Vegeta stood in the doorway, and calmly related what he knew of Sage’s condition and how it had come about.

When he had finished, Bulma looked as though she was going to be sick. Scratch that, thought Vegeta, as the woman heaved into the kitchen sink, her mother, chalk white standing beside her supporting her. When she could speak again, she turned to the father of her children, and said with calm cold fury, “Vegeta, just tell me that you are going to get that fucking piece of shit.”

Vegeta smiled. It was a smile that spoke eloquently of promises of pain. A violent, predatory smile. A vicious, vindictive smile. It was all the answer Bulma needed.

She nodded, and made to head for the stairs, intent on seeing her son. Vegeta caught her arm as she tried to get past him.

“I want you to wait until we get a senzu into him. He’s sleeping right now, and he is in an incredible amount of physical pain. If we can keep him asleep until we have the senzu it will be much better for him.”

She started to protest, but was cut off abruptly by Vegeta. “No arguments onna,” he said firmly. “I will send for you when we have the senzu.”

She knew, upon reflection that he was right, but she always hated that. So she did what any sensible person would do when given an order by the Saiyjin no Ouji. She obeyed.

Upstairs, Sage slept fitfully, still safely ensconced in his Baka’s arms. The pain in his tail lent realism to his fevered dreams, and he moaned and jerked in his sleep. Goku held him close, trying vainly to soothe the tortured child, trying to concentrate his thoughts on his bond-son, and not the bastard who had done this to him. Vegeta came back in the room, still pale with barely suppressed fury.

“I need you to find somebody, anybody with senzu beans Kakkarott.”

The taller man nodded, holding Sage out to his father, who enfolded the small child in his arms easily. Sage cried out as Goku retrieved his tail, and the man encouraged Vegeta wordlessly to replace his absent tail with his own. Sage calmed as his father’s russet tail coiled itself around his preferred thumb-sucking hand and he breathed deeply his father’s soothing scent.

“He’s feverish,” murmured Vegeta worriedly.

“Hai, koi. I think it’s his tail.”

“Makes sense. Please hurry Kakkarott.”

Goku brushed a gentle kiss across his lover’s lips, then nuzzled his bond-son’s hair briefly before placing two fingers to his forehead and flickering out of sight.

The prince settled himself on his bed, moving carefully so as disturb his heir as little as possible. There was no telling how long it would take Kakkarott to find somebody with senzu beans, he may as well make himself as well as his son as comfortable as possible. He began picking his way through his son’s disjointed memories, absently soothing Sage as he wept and twitched fretfully in his sleep.

He focused once he had discerned exactly what had happened to Sage and when on the man’s scent, his face, memorizing it carefully. For as soon as Kakkarott returned with the healing beans, Vegeta no Ouji was going hunting.

It took Goku only a few tries before he hit pay dirt on the senzu beans. He had first gone directly to Korin, but the latest harvest of senzu beans wouldn’t be ripe for another week, and they were useless before that. Next he tried Krillen, he nearly always had a few. But he was out as well. Finally, up on Dende’s Lookout, he found Piccolo who gladly gave him the needed senzu. Goku barely stayed long enough to thank the Namek before he rushed back to his mate and bond-son.

He materialized into a room fairly vibrating with a throaty humming purr he recognized as a Saiyjin lullaby that Vegeta had often soothed the infant Sage to sleep with. He crossed quickly to the bed and handed Vegeta the bean. He sat beside the pair, and helped his mate to a sitting position, gently waking the exhausted and wounded child.

Vegeta cracked the bean in half with his teeth, knowing from past experience an entire bean was too much for his small son to masticate at once. Sage chewed obediently with some difficulty and as soon as he swallowed, his father pressed the second half of the bean to his mouth. As soon as the second half of the bean was gone, he managed to sit up straighter, though his fright was still evident as he fairly trembled in his father’s embrace.

“Move your tail for me,” commanded Vegeta gently. Sage complied with not a little trepidation and flinching as he waved the formerly bent and broken limb, tentatively at first, then with more confidence, smiling as he realized his tail was good as new.

“What about the rest of your hurts, are they gone,” asked his father. Sage lifted his shirt to check, running a hand over his backside, then nodded at his fathers.

“All gone Tou’tan.” He paused, then frowned. “Well, not all of them,” he said softly.

As one the two men moved to gather the child into their joined arms. “I know Vegeta,” said his father quietly. “But that hurt will be a long time healing. A senzu cannot erase what was done to you.”

“But we will make sure it never ever happens to you again,” said Goku with understated force.

Sage fought back tears of relief, of remembered fear, of feelings for which he had no names for. He clasped his hands over his mouth, not wanting to appear weak before his father. But Baka gently drew his hands away from his mouth, and he heard his father’s low voice in his ear.

“No Sage, you cry if you must. It doesn’t make you weak.”

And Sage did.

He cried for a long time, eventually his voice gave out, and he was reduced to gasping hiccupping sobs. His mother had come in at some point and held him, crooning to him softly as he sobbed, then it was Tou’tan and Baka, then, just Baka. He had a vague sense of unease before he slept again, his bond-father cuddling him tenderly as his warm, rumbly purr carried him back off to sleep.

Goku laid Vegeta down in the bed once he was certain the child was sleeping deeply, smiling as he noted the habitual position of the boy’s tail around his right hand. Vegeta had left after Bulma had been to see Sage, and Goku knew exactly where he had gone and what he intended to do. He wanted to go after him, but he was loathe to leave his bond-son alone, knowing he would almost certainly be panicky when he awoke. He frowned, thinking…then reached for the phone.

The jangle of the telephone echoed through the dorm room where a bunch of grungy pre-med students were engrossed in a serious study session. One of them looked up irritated, and said “I though you were gonna take that thing off the hook while we studied.”

“Sorry man,” replied a tall scruffy looking blond young man who went by the nickname Yosh. Gohan’s roommate crossed the crowed area to dig the phone out from underneath a pile of empty take-out cartons.

“Yeah,” he said shortly into the phone, when it was finally unearthed.

The voice on the other end said “I need to speak to Son Gohan, now.”

“Hey, he’s busy, can’t come to the phone. Got a test tomorrow and…”

The voice cut him off. “Let me speak to him at once.”

“Listen man, I don’t know who you are, but…”

Again he was cut off. “I am his father. Give the phone to my son. Immediately.”

Yosh shut his mouth and obeyed. Gohan, who was going over his organic chemistry notes looked up with a faintly annoyed expression on his face.

“Sorry Gohan-san, but the guy says he’s your father.” Gohan’s eyes widened as he took the phone.

“Tousan? What’s the matter?” Yosh watched him as he listened intently, the color draining from his face. “No, it’s all right. I’ll come right away. Yes. See you in a few.” He hung up the phone and stood.

“Sorry guys, family emergency, I’ve got to bail. He walked to the window and climbed onto the fire escape, ignoring the startled exclamations of the students behind him. With the window closed, none of them heard exactly what he said, but a mere second later, a strange golden cloud had streaked to a stop beside Son Gohan and a moment later he was riding it away.

The looked at each other, blinking for a few long moments. Then Yosh, remembering his duties as a host, said weakly…”Beer anyone?” He was besieged by a wave of affirmatives.

Goku paced nervously in the room as he waited for Gohan to arrive. He could sense Vegeta…he was at the school…watching and waiting. He hoped Gohan could get here in time.

Vegeta meanwhile had found Stan Burns. The school day was nearly over and he watched the man unobserved. He grimaced. His son was right, he really did smell rank. He fought the urge to walk into the classroom and blast the man into oblivion right there, but he could be patient. His son had suffered, was still suffering, and would continue to suffer for a long time. Thus Stan Burns would do no less. Vegeta would see to that.

He left his observation post, scouted around, finding the man’s car parked out in the far corner of the teacher’s parking lot under the shade of a large chestnut tree. He would wait here. His prey would come to him. Vegeta no Ouji climbed into the tree and assuming his preferred meditation posture, arms folded, chin on his chest, he closed his eyes and waited. What was it he had heard the onna say one day as she fixed the gravity machine…again? Oh yes…patience is a fucking virtue bakayaro. He allowed himself a slight feral smirk as he exercised his “virtue.”

The final bell rang, signifying the end of the school day. Stan Burns stood, then took his usual place by the door, biding the student’s farewell, at the same time keeping an eye on the hallways, watching out for fights, disorderly students and the like. He was frustrated. He had anticipated today being the day he would finally get to fuck that sweet little ass he had been fondling for two weeks now, whetting his appetite so to speak. But the kid hadn’t shown up today. He wasn’t worried however; many years in the teaching business had taught him that children were veritable petri dishes for disease. No doubt the child was simply sick. He blinked in shock as out of the corner of his vision he saw a tail, no two tails waving behind two older boys…they looked to be in grade four or five. And the purple haired one…he had seen them with Vegeta he recalled.

“Hey,” he called out to them, waving them over with a cheerful gesture of his hand. “Hey, you know Briefs Vegeta, don’t you?” he asked them smoothly when they came over to him. Oh, they were beautiful, he thought, and those tails…

“Hai,” replied the taller one. “He’s our brother.”

“Oh, then you would know why he wasn’t in school today?”

“Who are you?” asked the lavender haired one directly.

“I’m Stan Burns, I’ve been helping your brother with his reading,” he said smiling.

The boys glanced at each other. “He was feeling ill, so our father kept him home from school today,” replied the other boy after a moment’s hesitation. His midnight hair stood up at unruly attention all over his head, and a dark brown tail waved lazily behind him as he spoke.

Just as he had thought. “Well you be sure to tell your brother to get well soon, ne?”

“Hai,” they answered in a strangely harmonious unison. They started to walk away, and he called after them, “What are your names, so I can remember you to your brother?”

They paused for a moment, then apparently decided to ignore him as they walked out of the front doors to the school.

Oh well, he thought to himself, easy enough to find out. And he did find out, checking Vegeta’s file, he discovered that he had three siblings, Gohan, Trunks and Goten. With that information, he pulled the files on the boys he had stopped in the hall. Hn…the purple haired one was Trunks, and the boy with the raven spikes was Goten. They were a year apart in age, but in the same grade. He wondered for a moment how that had happened, then shrugged. It hardly mattered. He noted as well that Goten and Gohan both had the surname Son, where as Trunks and Vegeta had Briefs as theirs. Not uncommon in this age of mixed marriages he thought absently. Perhaps when he was done with the younger Briefs boy, he would turn his attentions to his brothers. There really was something…alluring about those tails.

He failed to make note of one important fact. That all three boys had two fathers listed. But that would hit home very soon.

Vegeta was aware of every person and vehicle that left the parking lot, though to a casual observer he appeared to be asleep. He knew exactly when that bastard Burns left the school building, thankfully by that time the parking lot was all but deserted. He opened his eyes and watched as the man crossed the parking lot, waving to the last few teachers that were pulling out in their cheap cars. Vegeta no Ouji oozed out of the tree and stood, unnoticed by the man’s garish red vehicle.

He stood barely visible on the far side of the car, his back to the man who had hurt his child and waited until he heard the jingle of keys to speak.

“Are you Stan Burns?”

A low, gravelly voice bumped Stan out of his wistful reverie.

“Hai,” he replied, looking for the owner of that voice.

“The Stan Burns who is a teacher’s aid for Ms. Shu first grade class?”

“Hai, I am,” said Stan, looking around, puzzled now. Where was that voice coming from?

“And have you been tutoring a child named Vegeta?”

“Why yes, in reading. Who are you?”

A breeze blew by his ear and on it a voice that sent chills down his spine. It was barely more than a whisper. “I am his father.”

Despite his unease, long experience had taught Stan Burns the proper response to this. He replied in a loud, cheerful sounding voice while still looking around for the source of the voice, “It’s so good to meet the parent of such a wonderful child, he’s really one of a kind, you must be very proud.” His voice caught in his throat, as he suddenly felt a presence behind him. He turned around, and caught a brief glance of a person who looked remarkably like Vegeta, only much bigger, and with a look of calm rage that Stan Burns had only imagined in his worse nightmares. Before he could utter another syllable, a hand had grasped his throat and lifted him up from the ground.

“Of course I am proud of my son. You must be too. After all he has endured your abuse for two weeks while never saying a word to anyone. That is what you were after, is it not, when you told my son that if I ever found out what YOU did to him that I would cease to love him?”

“I…no, you’ve got it wrong,” gasped Stan as he struggled to talk around the hand that gripped his throat.

“Are you telling me that you have never laid a finger on my son? Never touched his tail, never ran your hand along his thigh, never unbuttoned his pants, never touched him in a way that you had no business doing?” The man’s voice never rose above a quiet conversational level, but just the same, Stan Burns felt his heart sink in terror. He knew.

“You chose the wrong child to molest. You have caused my son unimaginable pain and torment. And now,” the late afternoon sun caught a flash of pure white canine as the man lifted his lip in what could only be called a sneer, “it is your turn.”

“Vegeta, STOP,” came a loud voice and Stan gasped in relief as a very tall, very muscular man who bore a striking resemblance to that other tailed child…what had his name been? Oh yes…Goten, approached sprinting across the parking lot. He skidded to a halt beside the man who currently held Stan Burns’ life in his hand.

“Don’t even try and stop me Kakkarott,” said Vegeta said harshly. “After what he’s done to our son, I cannot believe you would even attempt…”

Goku interrupted him. “I am not here to stop you Vegeta.” Stan Burns’s heart sank. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m here to help you. This IS a family situation after all.” He turned piercing eyes to the man who was held suspended by the iron grip of his mate. “This is him? This is the one that hurt Sage?”

“Yes,” snarled Vegeta.

“Hn…” He frowned, his fists clenching and unclenching as he leaned in close to the face that haunted his bond-son’s nightmares. “You are going to hurt for what you have done to my son.” He stood back. “Let’s take this someplace a little more private, shall we Vegeta?” he said as he grasped his mate’s free hand and place two fingers from his other hand to his forehead. The scene around them flickered out, to be replaced by a clearing, surrounded by fallen trees with a backdrop of mountains.

“Much better,” smiled Goku as Vegeta flung Burns to the ground.

Vegeta turned to his mate. “Who is with Sage? You didn’t leave him alone, did you?”

“Relax koi, Gohan is with him. He was still sleeping when I left.” Vegeta ground his teeth. Goku put his arms around his mate; oblivious to the stunned looks the man sprawled on the ground was giving them. “Saaa, you’ll feel better once you spill some blood, ne?” He leaned over and kissed the smaller man on the tip of the nose. “I’ll just let you get started.” His gentle smile belied the cold fury in his eyes, and Stan Burns wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

Vegeta turned his icy glare to the man on the ground. “Who…who are you?” Burns managed to gasp out as he was approached.

“I am Vegeta no Ouji,” replied the shorter man. “I am the father of the child you have been brutalizing for the past two weeks.” He shoved the man back on the ground as he struggled to get to his feet, kneeling beside him and saying quietly, “My mate and I are very angry at you for what you have done to our Vegeta.”

Burns began talking fast. “No, you’ve got it all wrong, I’ve never touched your son, I swear it! You must be mistaken; I could never hurt a child, never!”

Vegeta calmly picked up the hand that was closest to him. He held it in an almost gentle grip. “So, what you’re telling me is that my son is lying?” He carefully selected the pinky finger, grasping the bone next to the knuckle joint between his finger and thumb.

“Listen, I don’t know what Vegeta told you,” said Burns in a panicky voice, “but...”

There was the smallest crack, and Burns’ scream filled the glade.

“Is my son a liar?” asked Vegeta again, selecting the bone above the next joint.

“I…” Crack. Scream.

“Well?” Vegeta finished with that finger, and moved on to the next. Half way through the third finger, Burns finally managed to scream out, “NO, he’s not a liar!”

Vegeta released his hand, and Burns struggled to his feet, looking for a way out, holding his injured hand. Vegeta let him walk a distance, communicating silently with his lover, and Goku stepped up to the plate. Burns walked right into him.

Goku stared down at the miserable excuse for a man who had caused Sage so much suffering. After a moment’s thought, he simply backhanded the man across the clearing so that he landed back at Vegeta’s feet. He then crossed to join his mate, as he watched Vegeta indulge in something that used to be a favorite past time of his. He had never before had the opportunity to appreciate the subtle beauty of torture, but he was now.

Vegeta squatted down beside the fallen man. “I wonder, which hand did you use to break my son’s tail,” he said in a light, casual tone of voice.

“I…I…don’t know what you mean,” stuttered Burns.

“He means,” snarled Goku. “That Vegeta’s tail was broken badly in two places and he wants to know which hand you used. Seems like a simple enough question; I suggest you answer him. My koi is not known for his patience.”

Burns found that he could not answer. It seemed to make no difference, as the smaller man lifted first one hand to his nose, then the other, inhaling deeply. He dropped the right hand, the one with three already broken fingers, ignoring the man’s yell of pain, he held the left out to Goku.

“Take it koi,” he said calmly. “Start with the thumb. Use your ki to make precise breaks…after all, we have a long way to go, and it wouldn’t do to have him all bloody before we’ve barely begun, now would it?”

Goku, remembering the way Sage had cried out when his tail tried to wrap itself around his hand in comfort, found himself slowly and painfully breaking finger bones as Vegeta’s smooth voice ran over and between them. It was delightfully satisfactory, he found as he finished with the hand, and looked to Vegeta for instructions.

“Well, it seems that my mate has finished with one hand, let’s move on, shall we to the hand that bruised and violated my son’s flesh.”

Burns was sobbing and begging in the dirt, and surprisingly it was Goku who lost his temper with the pathetic weakling first. He slowly and deliberately slapped the man across the face, not hard enough to break the bones beneath it, but hard enough to split the skin across one cheek and lip.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “How many times did our son ask you to stop? How many tears did he shed because of what you did to him? You deserve this…and you will be getting exactly what you deserve and not one bit less.”

“Did you really think you could get away with it?” asked Vegeta as he broke another bone in the man’s right hand. “Did you really think that no one would ever find you out? How many children have your tortured as you tortured our son? How many have you raped?”

“I don’t…I don’t…I….haven’t…” gasped the man.

“Do NOT lie to me,” roared Vegeta suddenly, flaring into Super Saiyjin. “Do you think I cannot smell it on you?”

Burns screamed again as Vegeta savagely twisted his wrist until it felt as though it would come off entirely. It did not however, and he heard and felt his bones crackle in a sickening percussive symphony of pain. His anguished shrieks lent a counterpoint to the snapping of the smaller portions of his skeletal structure.

Time seemed to stop on both ends of this experience. For Burns, he was swimming in agony, those cold, callously cruel voices wound around in his head, making him regret he had ever set eyes on Vegeta Briefs. He didn’t have much cognizance to think of that though as one by one the bones in his arms were broken. He screamed, hoarsely, already beginning to lose his voice when the hands stopped, the voices stopped, and automatically, he tried again to escape.

Vegeta was concentrating on the task at hand, his brain going over and over what he had seen in his son’s memories. Torture was a fine art, best enacted slowly, so that the victim was aware of everything around him. It required patience, and control, both of which he was in short supply of just now. If it were not for the training he had received while in Frieza’s employ, not to mention all the times he himself had been at the mercy of that twisted lizard’s expertise, he would have killed Burns long before now.

He watched eyes narrowed as the man struggled to his feet and attempted to escape again. He could break his legs, he thought, and put a stop to that. On the other hand, he smiled coldly as he watched Kakkarott land a vicious punch to the mutherfucker’s ribcage that sent the man screaming to the ground. Perfect, thought Vegeta. Just perfect. Exactly the right amount of force, no worry about puncturing a lung, just five cracked and broken ribs with one punch. Burns did not rise. He lay on the ground whimpering and crying like a baby. Vegeta stalked coldly over to him. As he approached, he could hear the man gasping, trying to beg, for mercy, for them to stop, for whatever. Vegeta stopped listening. He heard Kakkarott snarl a response at the man, and then the resounding crack and guttural scream as he kicked the man in the pelvis, breaking the bone cleanly.

Vegeta arrived at where his mate was standing, and in a fit of passion reached up and grasped a fistful of soft black spikes and pulled him down for fierce kiss. Damn, his lover was hot…and so Saiyjin thought Vegeta as he tasted Kakkarott almost desperately, his teeth nicking ever so slightly his mate’s lower lip drawing that sweet coppery fluid deeply into his mouth. Kakkarott groaned and returned the kiss harshly, breathing heavily as he crushed the smaller man to him.

They forgot where they were, what they were doing, as their blood lust triggered their lust in other parts of their bodies. They forgot the bruised and broken man watching them kissing and caressing each other, exchanging small growls and nips; they forgot why they were there in the first place. Until Kakkarott slid one of his hands down his lover’s pants, groping and fondling him heatedly, Vegeta had a sudden flash, and it was as if he were Sage, writhing helplessly in the lap of the man on the ground, tears coursing down his cheeks as the fingers pushed and probed, hurting him…Vegeta gasped and pushed his koi away, sweating. Then it was gone as Kakkarott again closed the gap between them, and Vegeta melted in his embrace. Subsequently it happened again, as Vegeta reached for his mate’s tail, squeezing it and ruffling the fur in a way he knew that made the younger man lose it every time. Goku had a sudden flash and like Vegeta, it was as though he were Sage, forcing back a cry of agony as his tail was crushed in a grip with one hand, while the other hand was forcing his hand to rub a large erection, he could feel the sickening slimy sensation of the man’s seed erupting over his hand, taste it as it was forced to his mouth, and he broke away from Vegeta.

The two Saiyjins looked at each other, realizing what was happening. Vegeta was the first to speak.

“Later, koi,” he said quietly. Kakkarott looked slightly embarrassed at his reactions. “Don’t worry about it Kakkarott…it’s a perfectly normal reaction with this kind of activity. We’re Saiyjins after all. But it’s not resolved.” His companion looked relieved.

“Hai lover…we have something to finish.”

They turned their attentions back to the person who had caused their son so much misery, and Stan Burns screamed as they resumed their careful and methodical beating of his body.

Goku marveled at the amount of control and restraint that Vegeta showed while breaking and bloodying the fucking bastard who had traumatized Sage so severely. He knew of Vegeta’s past of course, since the bonding Goku had been privy to every rape, every beating, every humiliation that the ice tyrant had put his precious Ouji through. So it came as no surprise to Goku when Vegeta began muttering in between his curses about Frieza. It was amazing thought Goku as he watched his koi shatter the man’s knee cap, how he can put him through such physical torment, yet Stan Burns had not lost consciousness once. He grinned savagely and returned to his part in the thrashing.

They were nearly finished. Stan Burns was not much more than a quivering pile of jelly. Vegeta was preparing to break the man’s last bone, his jaw, when Burns spoke. His voice was grated and whisperish, not much of a voice at all, his body wracked with dry choking sobs of pain and anguish. But between those tormented sounds, the sensitive hearing of the two Saiyjins picked up the disjointed mumbling…”beautiful…so…hot…almost …been worth it if I coulda….fucked…him…so lovely…when…he…cried….”

Vegeta’s rage exploded. His careful control was gone, shredded by the man’s almost unconscious confession. He gathered his ki in a vengeful flurry of light and sound and prepared to Final Flash him straight to hell.

But he was stopped by two strong arms wrapping around him from behind. He was stopped by the whispering breath of the man who shared his bed…and his soul. “Don’t Vegeta. Death, it’s too good for him. Sage will have to live with what has been done to him for the rest of his life; does Burns deserve any less?”

Vegeta was still shaking with rage and he struggled to extricate himself from his lover’s firm embrace. “Vegeta, I know what this has done to you. I know about your past koi, you know that I do. Do you think this hurts me any less because I was never abused in this manner? Listen to me…here’s what we can do.” And despite his anger, his fury, his uncontainable wrath, he did manage to listen. And what his soul mate whispered in his ear was enough to calm him down and get him smiling again.

Two hours later, Stanley Burns was found outside the emergency room door of the hospital that had the best center for orthopedic treatment in the country. Nobody could figure out how he had gotten there, much less how he was alive in the first place. A week later, a small article was published in a major newspaper telling about the miracle man who had survived every bone in his body being broken…twice…including each and every vertebra, and not only had he survived, but because of the near surgical precision of the breaks, he was expected to make a full recovery. No one knew what had happened to him, there were no witnesses, and the patient was in no condition to tell anyone, as his jaw was wired shut and both his hands were shattered.

Goku returned to the sparring grounds where he had left Vegeta when he teleported Burns to the hospital. No, he wasn’t going to die, he was going to recover, and when he did, someday, they would pay him another visit. And another, and another…for the rest of his life, Stan Burns would live in fear…and pain.

He enveloped his partner in a warm hug that left both of them breathless, and as though everything that had happened that day caught up with them at that very second, they were kissing each other frantically and ripping clothing off. Their lovemaking was frenzied and intense; their ki’s shattering nearby boulders into sand as they worked off the pain and frustration of the day’s events.

Vegeta gave a final deep thrust, and sank his teeth into the claim mark on his bond mate’s neck as he spilled his essence into the welcoming and reciprocating body beneath him. Goku screamed and heaved, his own member jerking and spitting between their bodies as he followed his lover a breathless second later.

They lay twined together in the clearing, nuzzling affectionately, exchanging tender touches and thoughts, just relaxing a bit before they needed to go home.

Gohan had raced home after receiving the phone call from his father. When he got there, Sage was still sleeping, cuddled up to his Baka, newly healed tail wrapped around his thumb sucking hand, thumb fully engaged. Tousan had quickly filled him in on what was going on; cautioned Gohan to keep his anger suppressed for the time being and had flickered out of sight. It was a difficult order, but Gohan managed it, lying down in the bed with his youngest brother, rage at what had happened to him coursing through him. He only managed to get a handle on it when Sage started whimpering in his sleep, twisting about, pleading wordlessly. Gohan wrapped his arms around the chibi and purred at him quietly, sending reassuring thoughts through the blood-bond. Eventually Sage quieted again and slept.

Then Goten and Trunks came home. They didn’t even stop in the kitchen. Gohan heard the door slam, and twin footfalls pounding through the house and up the stairs, not pausing until they reached the bedroom where Gohan and Sage were. They burst through the door and stopped dead in their tracks.

“What…”began Goten.

“happened?” finished Trunks in a scared voice.

Gohan motioned for them to be quiet and come closer. In a muted voice, he told them that Sage had been badly hurt by the teacher’s aide and that he needed quiet and to sleep. That he felt very scared about what had happened to him and he needed reassurance, he didn’t want to be alone. Trunks asked one question.

“Where is Papa?”

“He and Dad are dealing with the teacher’s aide.”

Three identical feral smirks graced the faces of the demi-Saiyjins.

Trunks and Goten kicked off their shoes which they had forgotten to leave at the door, shrugged off their backpacks and climbed into the bed on the other side of their brother, snuggling close to him protectively.

That was what Sage woke up to at dusk, as his fathers materialized in the room. He was surrounded by love and protection on all sides, and he could smell the satisfaction that his fathers emanated. He looked at them questioningly.

“He won’t ever hurt you again chukra,” said his father quietly. “We’ve seen to that.”

Sage frowned slightly. “But…you didn’t kill him.”

Vegeta stared at him a moment, then burst out laughing. “Damnit Sage, you ARE my son.”

Even Goku was smiling, and he approached his bond-son, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Sage into his lap he said quietly, “Chibi, what he did to you was horrific. It’s not something that his death would fix. But it will be a very long time before he gets out of the hospital.”

Sage stuck his lower lip out pensively. “But Baka,” he began.

“Shhh Sage. Do you really think that we would let him off the hook so easily? The rest of his life will be spent in fear and pain. Don’t you trust your fathers? We will never forget what he did to you. And we will never forgive him.”

Sage thought for a long moment, looking back and forth between his father and bond-father. Finally coming to a decision, he nodded, then said. “Ok…but sometime…sometime will you let me watch?”

Goku glanced at Vegeta who nodded. He hugged his bond-son tightly and said, “Of course chibi, of course.”

They sat for a while in silence, Sage cuddled in his bond-father’s warm embrace, before Trunks’ voice broke in. “Is anyone going to tell us what DID happen? How did Sage get hurt? And that teacher’s aide…he stopped us in the hall this afternoon asking us about Sage.”

Gohan looked alarmed. Vegeta and Goku exchanged looks.

“We’d better tell them koi, it’s something they need to know about,” said Goku firmly.

Vegeta nodded. “Hai, I agree with you.”

“Do I have to be here for this?” asked Sage pleadingly. “Please, I don’t want to…” he started, and his father cut him off.

“Kakkarott, take him downstairs and get some food into him. I’ll talk to the boys.” Goku nodded and carried Sage out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen where his grandmother was all too willing to ply him with whatever his little heart desired.

~~*****~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~******

A year or so later….

Bulma Vegeta and Goku were watching the three boys and Gohan and his girlfriend Videl cavort in the pool on what was sure to be one of the last days of its outdoor use. Bulma was flipping through the newspaper when an article caught her eye.

“Hey guys, listen to this.”

Goku looked up from where he was slowly massaging sun block into Vegeta’s back; Vegeta grunted noncommittally. Bulma began to read.

“Stanley Burns, the miracle survivor of a fantastic attack which left him with every bone in his body broken a year ago, is again in the hospital, this time with a shattered pelvis two broken legs and a face that has been so badly beaten it is unrecognizable at this time. It is suspected that the same person or persons who injured him so severely last year is also responsible for this attack, however there has been no evidence to neither confirm nor refute this claim. Police are baffled, they have no leads, and no witnesses. Mr. Burns claims not to know the attackers or why they have visited this horrific torture upon him, and says that he only wishes to be left alone to pursue his passion…teaching.”

She looked over at the two men. She knew Vegeta well enough to know that he was smirking into his forearms where his head was currently resting. Goku looked quietly pleased. She smiled, then looked at her seven year old son who had just run and jumped off the diving board, aiming for his older brother Trunks. It had been a rough year for Sage, first the nightmares and panic attacks. Then having to change classes. He found that he simply could not go into the classroom where the attacks had happened. He had sought out Trunks and Goten in their classroom the first day back and they had left the classroom and called home for someone to come and get him despite their teacher forbidding them to leave the room. Bulma sighed…well they had been in the middle of a test…that had taken some smoothing over.

They had decided not to tell anyone about what had happened to Sage, not wanting any of the pressures of what going public with the information would put on the child. And as Goku had pointed out, they had taken the law into their own hands, and were under no obligation to either seek help or inform the local law enforcement of what had happened.

Bulma was happy with the justice that Goku and Vegeta had dished out in the beginning, and she knew it would continue as long as that fucker drew breath. She watched her son laughing as he ducked Gohan under the water and her heart turned over. He was so small, she thought. Well he always had been small, but until this had happened, she had never thought of him as vulnerable. Now she didn’t see him as anything but. He had thrown himself into training once he had recovered and Bulma had not uttered one word of protest. Truth be told all the boys badly needed the outlet, and she quietly kept the gravity room in excellent repair, venting in her own way, improving it, inventing new bots for them to destroy.

Sage was doing much better these days, he had returned to sleeping in the boys’ room instead of with Goku and Vegeta as he had for months, and even consented to being alone from time to time, though he was still inclined to sweat if he was alone too long. But on the whole, he was making excellent progress. His father was always available to listen, having been through similar and worse in his lifetime, and had encouraged his namesake to start a journal. He had taught his son what he called the Royal Code; it was a Saiyjin code that was only ever taught to the royal family, and that’s what Sage used to write in his journal. But more poignant than anything he could be writing, were the sketches and drawings that were interspersed throughout the book. The pictures spoke volumes, and their titles…Shame, a powerful picture of a boy curled in a corner, as visions of what he had undergone whirled around his head. Secrets…a family sitting down to dinner, with the smallest member bleeding profusely underneath the tablecloth, with no one the wiser. Pain…no faces in this one just two bodies, a smaller one naked from the waist down sitting in the lap of the larger one who was clutching a familiar blue black tail that was bent at a right angle in his fist. There were others, and new ones appeared all the time, but those three stood out in Bulma’s mind the most.

She shook her head. She had had no idea about her son’s artistic ability, but she was grateful for it. It provided another outlet for him. She sighed and looked back over at Goku and Vegeta. Goku had apparently finished rubbing the sun block into Vegeta’s skin because Vegeta was thanking him with a long slow kiss that had the larger man melting into the chaise. Bulma giggled quietly at the sight. Yes, it had been a difficult year, but things were looking up…for everyone.

The End.

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