A/N: I edited a few things on the first chapter because I re-read it and was horrified by some of the errors. So my apologies for having to read those. I guess you re-read too many times, even the largest errors become unseen. Anyways, thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it!
A few years leading up to the androids.
She was really pissed off today. Her yells and shrieks could be heard by all the neighbors. *Smash.* Another glass hit the wall.
"You asshole! Why is her number in your phone?!" The blue haired beauty's screams echoed down the halls of Capsule Corp. The lab rats working in the various laboratories poked their heads out of their offices, always up to watch the latest match between the two lovebirds go down. Dr. Briefs was in his office when he heard his daughter's voice booming through the building. Listening for a second, he sighed and continued to tinker with his latest invention.
"S-she's just a lady I met downtown! She's new to town. I was hoping I could hook her up with Krillin!" Yamcha tried to explain. It really was the reason the lady's number was in his phone, but he was mentally kicking himself now for being stupid enough to think he could have another chick's number without Bulma freaking out. He knew better, 'Dammit Krillin' he thought to himself 'last time I'm helping you out with girls problems.' His eyes narrowed as the barrage of insults from his girlfriend continued. He was use to the abuse and accusations during their fights, but he had developed a painful headache about 20 minutes prior to the onslaught, and it was definitely making it worse. He clutched the left side of his head, intertwining his fingers through his jet black hair, applying pressure to try and soothe the ache.
Her back was turned to Yamcha, she was staring at the wall "Oh, you're so kind, helping poor helpless Krillin get a date." Bulma's words dripped with sarcasm and contempt, "Why do I really fucking doubt it Yamcha." Her head whipped to the side as she shot him a look that would have killed a small child.
"Bulma, I promise, that's all it was" Yamcha said in a defeated tone. "Can we drop the subject, my head is killing me." He winced as he said the last words. He was standing between the kitchen table and one of the dark blue couches that created the Brief's living room. A large ficus sat right behind him. He never liked the ugly plant, but he didn't claim he understood interior design either. He moved toward one of the kitchen table chairs, he needed to sit down.
"Your head is killing you!? I'll give you a reason for it to hurt!" Bulma grabbed one of her father's heavy stone ashtrays from the coffee table and flung it at Yamcha's head, barely missing it.
The ashtray crashed onto the tile floor beyond him and into the kitchen. Shocked, Yamcha turned from the table and stared at his girlfriend. "Shit Bulma! Come' on! That almost hit me!"
"That was the freak'in point!" She was facing him now, her arms pinned straight down her sides, fists clenched. Her body was rigid with anger, and she was ready for a fight.
Yamcha just stared at her for a second. He didn't know what else to say. They had had some epic fights in the past, but he always had the feeling that she enjoyed them a lot more than he ever did. He definitely preferred the fighting that involved strength and martial arts, not ones of wit and intelligence. Her pale ocean blue hair was pulled back from her face with a dark blue headband, wild ringlets of hair went every which way above her shoulders. She was wearing that cute red striped dress that accentuated her curves so nicely. How could he convince her that he was being faithful? He looked down at the ground as if to admit defeat, when suddenly from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the devil that had recently moved in. The black haired Prince leaned against the hallway door with his signature scowl.
"Go away Vegeta, this doesn't concern you." Yamcha growled. His fists clenched, always a reaction when the Prince was around. He hated the alien with a passion.
With a scoff, Vegeta walked into kitchen towards the refrigerator. "You flatter yourself to think that I would concern myself with your pathetic human issues." Vegeta grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator, with his back still turned to the fighting couple, he took a sip. The Saiyan paused for a second as he felt the tension in the room rise. Both humans were watching him intently. With his signature smirk, he closed the refrigerator door and leaned against it, taking another sip.
The shorter man's taunting glare made the hairs on Yamcha's neck stand up. "Dammit Vegeta, just get the hell out of here." He knew it was dangerous to continue speaking so rudely to the Saiyan, and usually, he was very self preserving and chose his words wisely, but for some reason right now he didn't care if they Prince pummeled him or not. The pain in his head began to intensify again. Gripping his forehead he squeezed his temples simultaneously, hoping the pressure would dull the needles he felt stabbing him in the back of his eyes.
"I can't believe you! There you go again, more concerned with everything else going on, and ignoring our problems, ignoring me!" Bulma yelled. Yamcha felt a twinge of embarrassment, as he had in fact forgotten for a second that she was standing there. But he couldn't help it, between the migraine and his almighty Prince "pain-in-the-ass," his attention had wandered.
"Your screeching is quite intolerable woman." Vegeta chimed in. He wasn't taking up for the human standing over by the kitchen table, but this woman's screams had interrupted his meditation from outside. He wasn't afraid of the little fiery bombshell that stood in the center of the living room, and he wasn't amused by her childish antics.
"Not you too Vegeta, I don't need two morons at once." Bulma's body seemed to relax a little, her tone deepened, and she crossed both her arms in defiance. She began to give Vegeta an earful, not realizing what was happening over in the corner by the table.
The words began to spin in Yamcha's head. The headache had gotten almost unbearable, and now a low, sharp pain began to grow in his stomach. He was having trouble breathing, and he the voices in the room were amplified to an ear piercing pitch. He was confused, it couldn't be happening, that didn't make any sense. His stomach lurched, he felt his knees begin to weaken. "Shut up Bulma, please." He said quietly, desperation began creeping into his voice. All he could do was stare at the shiny tile floor, trying to steady himself, trying to remain in control.
"I'm sorry, excuse me? Did you just tell me to shut up?!" Bulma whipped her attention back to Yamcha. "You are the reason I am even yelling!" Though she continued to rant, her words became a roar of white noise to the struggling man.
"Please….please stop." Yamcha gasped. He started to collapse. Sweat began to form on his temple. He couldn't breathe. Pain began to radiate through his body. His muscles seized rhythmically to the pulse of his quickening heartbeat.
The Prince, who had been arguing with Bulma moments before, now looked over at the man in the corner with a new found interest. He could feel the human's ki fluctuating rapidly, and could see his muscles trembling under his white long sleeved shirt. To Vegeta's surprise, the man's ki suddenly flared up.
"BULMA!" Yamcha yelled through his clenched teeth. The pain seared through his skull and he slammed his eyes shut, falling to his knees, cracking the tile around them. One hand hit the floor, while he gripped his abdomen tightly with the other. It felt as if his ribs were about to snap. He began to shake uncontrollably as his ki began to hammer through his body.
"What the…? No, that's not possible." Bulma's arms dropped to her sides, she took a step back, eyes widening as she began to realize the severity of the situation. "Yamcha, are you…?" Her voice trailed off.
"Yes!" Yamcha gasped, straining to speak "please...please get something." His eyes were wide and scared as they looked pleadingly at Bulma. Veins began to wiggle and rise from underneath the skin on his face, and his dark brown eyes were beginning to turn a pale blue. He quickly looked back at the floor, his vision and mind were beginning to cloud.
An awful crack split the air as Yamcha's right arm bent backwards and snapped above the elbow. He cried out in pain. A red light began to flicker at the tips of his fingers, lapping at the air with a violent fervor.
Bulma took off running down the hall to her father's lab.
Vegeta had set his water bottle down and now leaned against the kitchen island, watching with intense interest as the human groaned from the agony deep within him. Vegeta considered the man to be a weakling who's ki matched that of an untrained saiyan child's. However, at this moment, the man's ki began to rise more than he thought possible. On the outside, Vegeta kept his stoic demeanor, but on the inside he was confused 'Even when this man was about to die at the hands of the saibaman his ki never reached this high. Why is it happening now?' The Prince snapped back from his thoughts as Bulma ran back into the room, now with a syringe in hand.
"Breathe Yamcha, just breathe!" Bulma cooed softly as she squeezed the last few air bubbles out of the syringe. "Dad says this is the strongest batch he has, it should work." With that she plunged the needle into his arm, right below the shoulder. The liquid in the syringe became red as she pulled back slightly to make sure she found a vein, and with that, released the contents. She felt his muscles trembling as they strained. She closed her eyes as she kept her hand on his shoulder. 'Any minute now…' she thought to herself. She was going through the possible scientific explanations in her head as to why this was occurring, and she was worried because the one plausible answer was not a good one.
The needles contents spread like liquid fire through his veins. It was a strong dose, but it was nothing compared to what the rest of his body felt like. He continued to try and slow his breathing. His throat was on fire, every breath felt like acid was being poured down his throat. He focused on suppressing the force he felt pushing up from within him. His muscles began to relax, his heartbeat slowed. Feeling Bulma's hand pressed against his shoulder gave him more strength then she would ever know. The pain began to subside, and he stopped trembling. A gasping cough was all he could muster, but he had won, he had suppressed it. Still staring at the ground he began to rise, a sharp pain shot up from his right arm. Clutching it quickly, he thought to himself 'One broken bone...not bad.'
"Ar-are you alright?" Bulma stuttered. She just stared down at the man rising from the ground. Hair covered his eyes, but the look of distress was written all over his face and body.
Standing up, he swayed a bit, then caught his balance. "I'm gonna go find your father…" was all he could conjur as he glanced at his worried girlfriend. Still holding his injured arm, he began to limp toward the kitchen doorway.
He walked slowly down the hall toward the infirmary, concentrating very hard on ignoring the Prince's curious eyes he felt boring into his back. The alien wasn't the only one confused on what had just happened. Yamcha was utterly perplexed by the sudden episode. 'It just doesn't make any sense. This isn't suppose to happen anymore, Bulma and Dr. Briefs fixed it.' Suddenly becoming dizzy, he leaned against the cool steel walls of the Capsule Corp. hallway. He let out a deep sigh. He would have to try and solve the mystery later, right now, he still felt like crap, and now his arm hurt like hell. Gathering himself up again, he began the march to find Dr. Briefs.
