A long, confessional, and sappy Author's Note is at the end of this chapter. I'm kind of nervous about including it, and some of you might find it annoying or TMI, but I also feel like it's a message that's important to share.
"Wait..." Vegeta was still running a hand through his hair. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he studied the floor directly below him. "So, at this precise moment... You are gestating?"
"Bingo." Bulma was relieved to have finally told the man in front of her. She was still standing in the doorway, but she started to slowly make her way for the bed. "And I probably have been for a couple months, now."
"I don't understand. Why now?" Vegeta felt the mattress shift as she took a seat with her back to him. "Of all times?"
"I mean…" The Bluehead began. Great. It was starting. What kind of question was that? The saiyan was going to have a fit about this, and she didn't know what to say. "I mean, it just happened, Vegeta."
"Yeah, but now?" He looked over his shoulder to see the woman sitting on the opposite edge of the bed as she stared at the wall. "It seems so odd. I was starting to think human women could only procreate once, but then that wouldn't explain Kakarot's mate. It was almost instantaneous when we conceived the boy, but this time we were able to go at it for over a year before anything happened."
"I was on birth control."
"Birth control." Vegeta repeated this, testing the name on his lips. He'd never heard of such a thing. What birth control was seemed self-explanatory. "How does it work?"
"There's different kinds. The ones I was using were pills. You take a pill once a day, kind of like medicine. I started right after Trunks was born." She almost smiled at this. Vegeta had never heard of birth control? In all his days of navigating the universe? "Basically, the pills change some of the chemical balances in your body, and it prevents you from getting pregnant."
"Obviously, not." The saiyan scoffed behind her. "Then how do you explain this?"
"I wasn't taking them in space!" She huffed. Now Bulma finally turned to face the saiyan, shooting him a death glare. "If I had been given a chance to pack my own luggage, I could have brought them, and none of this would have happened!"
"Don't blame me for your condition!" Vegeta glared back. "You could have warned me about all this!"
"Why bother? Apparently, you thought we were just playing with fire to begin with!"
"Just don't blame me." Vegeta growled, but he didn't deny what she'd just said. He had assumed they'd been having unprotected sex the entire time they'd rekindled their relationship, hadn't he? "This isn't all my fault. It takes two people to make something like this happen. Not me alone."
"I know!" Bulma sighed. She put her hands to her cheeks and shook her head, before throwing herself back on the mattress. "Ugh, I can't believe this! I've had months to get used to it, and I still feel so stupid!"
"Why didn't you just tell me to begin with?" Vegeta sounded livid. "I asked so many times."
"This hasn't been easy for me."
"You're supposed to be my mate." Vegeta continued. "You tell me I should just go ahead and start referring to you as my wife. Yet you won't be honest about things like this!"
She wanted to say something shotty back, to defend her ego, but those few words he'd said were making her feel rather horrible. Bulma looked at him sadly, his silhouette towering over her as he continued sitting upright. "I didn't know what to do..." She sighed dumbly. "I've been so scared. And sick."
"I knew your illness earlier was due to something more than just spoiled food..." Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone softening slightly. "I wish you would just tell me these things, Woman. You keep so many secrets from me. I remember you doing something similar to this last time you had this condition. I had to find out from that doctor, instead of you."
"Last time," Bulma began. Once again, his words had an instantaneous effect of her. Her mood had gone from guilt-stricken to pissed, all in a few short seconds. It felt so dismissive when he said things like this! Did he not remember any of the ways he'd been behaving back then?! "LAST TIME, you were being an absolute jackass! Of course, I didn't want to tell you! You weren't even talking to me! I couldn't believe I let myself get knocked up by someone like you! And perhaps I would have gotten around to sharing the news, if I hadn't been passed out when it happened!"
Vegeta's posture softened, and he glanced at her. His expression was difficult to read. His eyes were hard, yet the muscles on his face were in a neutral state of relaxation. What was he thinking? How did he actually feel? "You raise some good points." He finally mumbled, and then he let out yet another sigh.
"Are you mad?" Bulma asked. She was tired of trying to guess his stance on the matter.
"I wish you would have told me." The saiyan growled. "That's all."
"I wish I told you sooner, too." Bulma's eyes were so sad as she stared into Vegeta's. "I've just been trying to get my head wrapped around this whole thing, and I didn't know how you were going to react. I didn't want to add any more stress to the situation until I was more comfortable with this."
"You think telling me will add stress?" His eyes widened as he asked this.
"I didn't know… Like I said, last time you didn't handle the news very well…"
The room was silent as he interpreted what she just said. The saiyan raised a hand to scratch it through his hair, and he broke eye contact from the woman laying beside him. Finally, with a sigh, he replied. "I don't want to add stress."
He sounded so genuine when he said this, and it made Bulma feel guilty that she'd ever thought such a thing. Vegeta had been trying really hard to prove himself to her - and for so long, too. She should have given him more of a chance. Bulma shouldn't have let memories of something he'd been working to make up for jade her view of the present. "I'm sorry, Vegeta…" She mumbled, and she reached out to place her hand on top of his. "I know you don't. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that. I just didn't know how you would feel about another baby, and I wanted to prepare myself in case you weren't happy about it."
"I suppose that's fair…" Vegeta sighed. "I just wish it wouldn't have taken this long."
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm telling you now." The Bluehead pursed her lips. "So, are you mad? About the baby?"
"We'll figure it out."
This was the second time Bulma had asked Vegeta if he was mad that she was pregnant, and this was the second time he had avoided giving her a direct answer. That, combined with the pissed look in his eyes and his hostile body language, made it obvious that he wasn't pleased at all.
Her scowl deepened, and she decided there was no use in trying to take this conversation any further tonight. That being said, there was also no way she'd be getting to sleep any time soon. Pushing herself up off the bed, her shoulders were tense as she kicked her feet into her slippers. "I just remembered, I have a proposal I needed to finish that's due on Tuesday. I think I'll go work on it for a bit."
"Fine. I'm going to go train."
Train? At this hour? Training was exactly what Vegeta did with Trunks. In fact, training was all Vegeta did after learning of Trunks! He'd used training as an escapism tactic. It had been an excuse to avoid her!
When Bulma was at the door, she paused so she could turn around. She put a hand on her hip as she glared at the saiyan one last time. "This is a warning, mister. Don't you dare go off the deep end. I expect you to come out of that gravity room at a reasonable hour. And you'd better not stop talking to me. Don't you dare disappear, like you did last time."
With that, she swiftly made her exit. She didn't even bother to see the reaction on Vegeta's face. The Bluehead walked so briskly, and she didn't slow down until she was throwing herself in her office chair and clicking her credentials into her computer…
.
One week.
It had been one full week.
An entire week had come and went, and Vegeta still was acting distant and cold. He spent nearly every hour of each day locked away in his training room, not even bothering to open the door when Trunks went knocking so he could watch his father's workouts. He just wanted to be completely alone. The saiyan would make appearances at meals, to pensively shovel food in his mouth while he scowled at the placemat, but the only other time Bulma would see him was in the bedroom. At night, he would strut into their room only to wordlessly throw himself on the mattress, before rolling over so that his back was to the Bluehead and he was facing the wall. He was so serious, so wordless, and the only time he spoke was to offer short answers to anything Bulma or Trunks might ask.
"How was your day, Vegeta?"
"Fine."
"Da-ad! Can I have cake?"
"Sure."
"Vegeta, could you clear the table for me?"
"Ugh."
It was understandable that he would need some time to process the big news. Why, Bulma had needed two months, and she still wasn't used to the idea of having another baby. But Vegeta? Regardless of if he just needed some time to himself to think things over, his behavior still upset her deeply. Here it was, that regression to his isolating coping mechanisms that she had so deeply dreaded, and Bulma found it unacceptable. Sure, Vegeta may have needed some time to consider these new circumstances, but she needed his emotional support. She had enough on her plate with all of the changes her body was going through, as well as Trunks and his tantrums; she didn't need to be dealing with the saiyan's moodiness as well. She needed someone to share all of this with, someone who would comfort her. Someone to make her feel less alone and overwhelmed.
So, Bulma gave Vegeta a week.
He had seven days to cope, and seven days to think. And it was exactly one week after she'd broken the news to him, that Bulma found herself knocking aggressively on the door to the gravity room. It was 11 P.M., and the saiyan didn't seem as if he would be coming out on his own any time soon.
"Vegeta! Open up!" She called – just to make sure he wouldn't ignore her.
It took a few seconds for him to shut off the gravity machine, but soon enough Vegeta did appear in front of her.
"Come on out. We need to talk." The Bluehead ordered. She was wearing her night robe, which was tied around her waist and opened enough at the chest to show off an impressive amount of cleavage. Vegeta eyed her clavicles silently, and he didn't complain as he wordlessly stepped into the hall.
"Alright, buddy. Follow me. We're going to the basement den."
The downstairs den? Vegeta had assumed she would drag him to their bedroom. What was waiting for them in the den? "Alright." He said, in that infuriatingly one-worded way. Bulma rolled her eyes at this, but she didn't say anything else before swirling around to lead the way.
The saiyan's eyes were lazily settled on her swaying hips as he followed her. He couldn't help but consider how amazing it was that her body could be so hypnotic, even when he was in the foulest of moods. Vegeta didn't think he would ever grow tired of studying her figure. Especially as she crossed the dimly lit house, the shadows only working to accentuate her womanly shape.
When they arrived downstairs, Bulma made her way directly for the couches. She planted herself on one with a relieved sigh, easing into the cushions as if they were quick sand that she was gladly losing herself into. Vegeta was slowly making his way to another of the couches when the Bluehead finally looked up at him. She gestured to the coffee table in front of her with a lazy flick of her wrist. "Here. Pour yourself a glass, and sit down."
There were six large bottles of whiskey arranged across the table's surface, forming the shape of a half-circle, with a single wine glass placed in the middle. Vegeta eyed the arrangement suspiciously, but this offering was so rare that he had no desire to pass it up. It wasn't that Bulma was against Vegeta having a drink or seven - she never complained when he did. But he hardly ever drank, since it interfered with his training, and it was virtually unknown for her to actually command him to do so.
Why was she doing this?
The odor of the alcohol was so appetizing as he filled that wine glass with whiskey, and Vegeta couldn't help but think the dish was rather un suiting for the beverage of choice. Still, he poured to the brim, and he downed the serving in one giant swig.
"Have another." The Bluehead instructed.
"Why?" Vegeta asked, finally speaking for the first time since this encounter started, but he was readying himself another glass anyway.
"Because you're going to get drunk tonight. You're going to sit with me, and you're going to drink until you can't anymore." Bulma explained, folding her arms over her chest. "Then, I want you to be honest with me. We're going to talk about this, and you're going to tell me exactly how you feel about this baby. I won't have you keeping it to yourself anymore. We need to work this all out."
"You think I need to get drunk to have a conversation with you?" Vegeta asked. After slugging his second glass of whiskey, he gave up on pouring them at all and started chugging from the bottle instead. He had finished the first bottle within minutes, and he was starting to feel a very light buzz. "You think I need this to have a conversation?"
"You've been keeping to yourself all week." Bulma replied. "I know how you are when you're stressed, but this is something we need to deal with together."
"That's ironic to hear, when it's coming from the Woman who kept this a secret from me for two entire months."
"I explained that already." She replied. "Perhaps I also wanted to be absolutely sure of it before telling you, did you ever think of that? I gave my body two chances to menstrua-
"BAH!" Vegeta cringed. "Don't say it, Bulma!" With that, he lifted his second bottle and began gulping its contents. The fact that he was a saiyan meant that he required a considerable amount of alcohol before feeling anywhere near "buzzed". Of course, there had been one instance where he had accidentally gotten drunk on a mere bottle of wine during dinner with his family, but that had been his first time drinking in years. He hadn't had a tolerance for it back then.
With her lips pursed, Bulma watched him empty the second bottle of whiskey, and she couldn't help but feel an inner twitch of discomfort. She was aware that Vegeta knew what he was doing, but if any normal human consumed that much in such a short period of time, she'd be racing to call an ambulance and beg that their stomach be pumped. Even though she knew the saiyan would be fine, it was the most bizarre thing to witness and not say anything about it. Even for her, this was completely surreal.
"Can you forgive me for keeping this a secret from you?" She finally asked, deciding it was best to stop focusing on how much he was consuming. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"I already have. It's not that big of a deal." Vegeta sighed. "I just like giving hypocrites a hard time."
A hypocrite? Bulma?
She couldn't believe he was using such a word to describe her! Why, she was beautiful, and unworldly intelligent! She was funny, and charismatic, and she had good taste in clothes! She was defiant and wise, fair and honest! Bulma couldn't believe that of all things Vegeta would think to describe her as, he would choose a word far different from any of that! Hypocrite?
"You think I'm a hypocrite?" She finally asked, her cheeks flushing. Her voice was rising, but the saiyan seemed completely unbothered by this. "Me?!"
"You do hypocritical things, yeah." He replied, rather noncholantly. Bulma could tell her was starting to feel his drinks, because he was beginning to sport that same expression he always got on his face when he'd been drinking. It was a look he would get in his eyes and on his cheeks, as if they were all trapped in some kind of sitcom, and he was the only one aware of it. As if everything around him was ridiculous, and he had no choice but to accept it all with a laugh. As if he had just thought of a snide joke that he was keeping to himself. Even right now he appeared to be holding a laugh in, all while giving her some major side-eye as he moved for his third bottle. "Come on, Bulma. Think about it. You're always going on about how I need to work on communication, and how I shouldn't do this, I shouldn't do that, yadda yadda, blah blah blah BLEHG! And what do you do when something happens to upset you? You isolate yourself and refuse to talk about anything! Even when I ask! Isn't that hypocritical? What would you call it?"
And here it was.
The laugh.
Vegeta was laughing now, but he managed to do it in a way that didn't make Bulma feel attacked at all. Drunk Vegeta wasn't laughing at her; he was cracking up about some unspoken air in the room that his cynical mind found too amusing to withstand. A thick and hearty cackle that came from somewhere so pure, a place deep inside that he worked so tirelessly to conceal during more sobered times. It was so authentic, so non-threatening. That laugh was so contagious that Bulma found herself grinning as she watched him, even after all the things he'd just said to dent her ego.
Soon Vegeta's laughter faded, and it was promptly replaced by sucking sounds as he went back to chugging from his third bottle. He was gulping for only a few seconds before pulling the half empty bottle from his lips, giving it a once over before setting it on the table. "Ugh. I've had enough. Have you had enough? Are you satisfied yet?"
"I'm not drinking." Bulma said simply.
"Yeah, but enough of watching me?" The saiyan waved a hand in her direction. "Is this your idea of eye candy? Does it get you off watching me drink? Are you turned on? Have your mad desires been quenched?"
"What in the hell are you talking about?" The basement was starting to feel rather chilly, so the Bluehead pulled one of the couch cushions over her torso as a makeshift blanket.
"You know, I'm not angry." Vegeta said then. "I'm not mad at you. But another kid? Those things are tough..."
"It's okay if you're not happy about this." Bulma was trying to sound calm as she spoke, even though inside she was wanting to scream. "I cried for hours when all my symptoms started making sense to me. You don't have to be happy."
"You did?" Vegeta narrowed his diluted eyes at the Bluehead. "When? I haven't seen your tears."
"You realize that you probably spend about 10 hours a day in your training room, right? I have plenty of time to do lots of things without you knowing."
"Yeah, like tears are a worthwhile use of your time."
"I'm being serious." She said. "I didn't want this to happen. This is the last thing I wanted, and now I don't know what to do."
"What is there to do?" Vegeta kicked his legs up on the couch as he laid back, enjoying the light sensation his head always got when he was intoxicated. "We'll figure it out, Bulma."
"You keep saying that, as if it's that simple!" As cool and detached that she'd been trying to be, Bulma was now starting to get frustrated. She wanted to get something out of him. She needed an emotional discussion right now. She needed to feel a connection in a way that only hot feelings would do. "Even when you're drunk, you're being so dismissive! Say something else to me besides we'll figure it out!"
"What do you want me to say?" He asked back. He was speaking as if she were being completely ridiculous, and that only ired her further. Vegeta was supposed to be mad. He was supposed to be angry, and bitter, and unleashing his verbal tension on her. He wasn't supposed to be so damned relaxed about it all, especially after hardly talking for a week!
"Be honest with me!" She shot. "I know you aren't happy about this! I know what you're thinking, so just tell me!"
"Trunks is a handful..." Vegeta tssked, not even looking her way. "But, even though the boy is exhausting, I was starting to feel acclimated with our daily routine, anyway. Now it's all going to change."
"Right." She nodded furiously, even though he wasn't watching her gestures. Here it was - he was finally going to say something else!
"I'm not happy about this, but there's no changing what's been done. You keep asking if I am mad, and why should I bother being blaming you? Procreation is a consequence of mating, is it not? It's not like I'm not the one jumping on you half the time."
"If you aren't mad, then why have you been so closed off lately?!" Bulma retorted. Of all words, she hadn't been expecting those.
"I said I wasn't mad at you." He replied. "I'm pissed! But not at you. Understand?"
Oh.
He really wasn't blaming her? Bulma had assumed he was furious at her, and she felt her cheeks reddening as she looked down at her lap. "So, you're pissed at the situation… But, we'll figure it out, right?"
"Exactly. Are you satisfied, now? We're just talking in loops."
"Yeah, I guess so." She replied. "I mean, I don't think you're lying anymore - and don't you say I'm a hypocrite again! I'm not!"
"Oh, come on…" He sat up, and he looked at her for the first time in minutes. "Woman, look at you…"
Her face was completely flushed, and she didn't know what to say. She'd been expecting for them to get into some type of argument, and it hadn't happened. Now she was stuck with so many pent up emotions that had nowhere to go, but she was also relieved that Vegeta was being so accepting of everything. It was rather overwhelming, to be honest.
"You look like you're about to explode." He announced, and then he stood. Sloppily he made his way to her, before falling on the couch beside her. "You're the one with the problem, aren't you?"
"I wasn't ready for this." She said, and even though she'd already expressed that, it felt like a confession this time. "I can't go through this again!"
"You've made a child before, and you'll be able to do it again." He offered, as if this would be comforting. Bulma gave him a hard look, as if she wanted to shout something, but instead she found herself flying at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into one of his shoulders, and he returned to embrace with no hesitation at all.
"I'm not going anywhere this time…" He mumbled. The words came out with strain, as if even saying such a thing bothered him. He didn't want to think about leaving her. Especially after seeing how hard pregnancy had been on Kakarot's wife, he still couldn't believe he'd done such a thing to her when she'd been pregnancy with Trunks. "… If that's what you're worried about, then don't. I'm staying right here."
"You promise?" She asked. Bulma felt dumb for needing it, especially after everything they had shared recently. The saiyan had proven to her time and time again that his priorities were different than they had been when they'd first met, but in that moment his reassurance was she could ask for. She pulled her face away from Vegeta to look him in the eyes. "Promise you're not going to leave."
"Bulma," He sighed. His breath stank of whiskey, and it nearly made her feel nauseous to get such a strong cloud of it in her face, but she didn't care. "I want to call you my wife, don't I? I'm not going anywhere."
"Then promise me you'll go with me to my doctor's appointment next week." She said.
"Doctor's appointment?"
"Yeah. It's time to get it over with. I'm going in for a confirmation exam next week. I can't do this alone."
"Alright," He said. His eyelids were starting to get droopy. Clearly he was entering that stage of intoxication where he would likely be falling asleep soon. "I'll go with you. I'll attend all of your medical exams."
"I'm holding you to that, even after you're sober."
"I'll go."
"I know, but still. Don't you dare try to get out of-"
"WOMAN! I said I'll go!"
.
.
.
White linoleum was surrounded by bright white walls, which were all covered by a blanket of white fluorescent lighting. It all left Vegeta with the sensation that he was walking into a spaceship owned by an overly cheerful dictator. He kept his fists tucked in his pockets as he stoically stepped inside the building. The Bluehead's posture stiff as she walked quietly by his side.
The day had come for the appointment she had been so stern about, and Vegeta found it strange that the medical professionals hadn't come to their house instead. All the other times that the matter of babies had come up, the doctor had always paid them a personal visit. They'd found out about Trunks at Bulma's home, and that's even where she'd given birth. Even when Vegeta had blown himself up in the first ship shortly after arriving to work, he'd done all his recovering in the comfort of Bulma's house. What was with this whole office visit business, then? Why did they need to go out of their way, now?
"Name, please." A plump woman, who looked neither young nor old, asked from the other side of a tall counter. Predictably, all the furniture in this building was an off-white color, with random assortments of silver steel scattered about to add some contrast. It perfectly suited the rest of this bright interior.
"Briefs." Bulma replied, and the saiyan could make out the shake in her voice that she was trying to mask.
The woman behind the counter was notably unsympathetic to the obvious display of the Bluehead's nerves, which struck a chord with Vegeta. Without batting an eyelash, that lady simply pulled out a stack of papers, and she cleared her throat as she flung them to Bulma with a worn looking pen. "You'll need to fill these out, front and back, and sign or initial at all of the yellow lines."
"K." Bulma replied, before turning to scope out a couple of empty chair. This wasn't a difficult task, since there were only a handful of other people in the waiting room, and Vegeta followed her lead until they were finally sitting down.
He wanted to say something to ease Bulma's discomfort, as he watched her scribbling her way through the sheets. He wanted to squeeze her thigh, lean to her ear, and mumble some snide comment that she would surely take as a joke. But this was a serious matter, and it affected him just as much as it did her. He had absolutely no idea what to say, and he didn't know if it was even appropriate to do such a thing.
It seemed that they were sitting for hours before a new woman walked out into the waiting room and called for them to follow her. She led Bulma and Vegeta through another, equally bright hall, and into yet another equally bright room. The room had a bed with paper on it – how odd – along with an assortment of bizarre instruments that Vegeta couldn't identify. Bulma took a seat on the papery bed without being asked, and the saiyan watched with notable interest as the Bluehead and the medical woman commenced some type of interview process. Bulma answered a variety of questions, such as her age and symptoms, before the woman seemed satisfied. However, she didn't leave yet before extracting some of Bulma's blood. Then, as if she would never show mercy, she handed the Bluehead a disturbingly large plastic cup.
"The bathroom is right now the hall. We're going to need a urine sample, fill to the marked line. When you are done, come back in here and change into your gown. Make sure you remove all clothes, including your bra and underwear." The woman said robotically, before turning and leaving the room. "The doctor will be with you shortly."
Now Vegeta watched as Bulma did what she was told yet again. When she came back in the room and changed into her gown, he finally spoke up.
"It's made of paper, too?" Vegeta balked.
"No, it's more like some kind of hard cotton." She corrected, before turning around for the bed.
"IT HAS NO BACK?!" Vegeta jumped. "BULMA! I CAN SEE YOUR ASS!"
"Sshh!" The Bluehead's shoulders went up to her ears as she cringed from the boom of the saiyan's voice. "Keep your voice down! This is normal!"
"Normal!?" He started, and then he paused. Bulma was already sitting on the table, so her bare back was now concealed. Vegeta took a deep breath, attempting to regain his composure. It didn't work, and so he took another deep breath.
"Please try not to freak out." The Bluehead said then. She might have been a genius, but it still didn't take much intelligence to see how wound up the saiyan was. "Anything they're going to do today is medically appropriate, okay? I need you to be calm for me, because I'm a wreck enough as it is."
"Okay." He grunted. His cheeks were bright red, and a vein was starting to visibly pulse in his forehead. He took a seat in the empty chair that was across the room from the paper bed. "Okay. Okay. I'm fine."
"Good…" She sighed, not believing him for a second.
The two didn't say much else to each other. Vegeta sat in silent distress, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Bulma being so exposed and vulnerable under that crummy thin medical gown. How could any of this be appropriate? What should it matter if she wear that thing or not, why couldn't she just keep her normal clothes on?
A knock at the door made both of them look up, and in walked a middle-aged man with a smile on his face that was entirely too wide for Vegeta's taste. "Ms. Briefs? Hi, I'm Dr. Sato."
"Hello," Bulma replied with little enthusiasm.
"Alright, looks like your urine sample and blood test confirm it. They are both positive – you're pregnant."
She might have reacted if she hadn't already known that, but the news was nothing more than a statement of the obvious to her. Bulma was quiet as she watched the doctor make his way to a counter and retrieve a pair of latex gloves. "I understand that you gave birth to your son several weeks early. Given your history, and the fact that you're in your first trimester, I'd like to perform a transvaginal ultrasound today. Are you comfortable with that?"
"That's fine." She said.
Transvaginal? What did that imply? Vegeta looked from the doctor, to Bulma, and then to the doctor again. The man was taking a seat in front of her bed, and he extended a couple of clasps that the saiyan hadn't noticed before. "Go ahead and place your feet in the stirrups for me."
Yet again, Bulma did as she was told. Vegeta's eyes widened. Why was she spreading her legs like that? It looked so suggestive! To make matters worse, that slimy doctor was now holding a large wand that resembled a… a… Well, it looked like an abnormally long penis!
"Try and relax for me," The doctor was saying, as he squirted some type of gel on the wand. "There may be slight discomfort, but it will be mild."
And then, to Vegeta's horror, he began to act as if he were going to shove that thing into her!
"STOP IT!" He barked, jumping from his seat. "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!"
Bulma's mouth dropped open as she saw the saiyan flying for them. "Vegeta!"
"Sir?" The doctor asked, looking up from where he sat. Vegeta was now standing over him, his hands balled into fists.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" The saiyan yelled. "DON'T YOU DARE PUT ANYTHING IN-"
"Sir, I'm trying to perform a transvaginal ultrasound." The doctor cut him off. He was trying to be professional, but there was an obvious curl of worry in his voice. It was not unheard of for patients to get emotional, but the level of aggression this man was showing was unusual for Dr. Sato.
"Vegeta, please!" Bulma gasped. "This is normal!"
"IT IS NOT NORMAL!" The saiyan barked. "HE'S GOING TO VIOLATE YOU!"
Footsteps were heard outside as people rushed to the room. And then there was a knock at the door. "Is everything alright in there?" Someone called.
The doctor didn't reply to his comrades that were on the other end of the door. Instead he was staring at Vegeta, as if to make sure of what was going to happen first.
Bulma looked like she was about the burst into mortified tears at the idea of a bunch of people bursting in on them. "You told me you'd be calm!" She shot, pointing an angry finger at Vegeta. "You're supposed to be here and support me, and now you're just embarrassing me!"
The saiyan felt surprised at her reaction, but he was still pissed. "There is no way," He said. No longer was he yelling, but his voice was laced with acid all the same. "That any of this is necessary."
"Dr. Sato?" The voice from the other side of the door called out, not having received a response. "Is everything alright? Do we need security?"
"It is necessary!" Bulma hissed at Vegeta, before turning to the doctor. "Please don't let anyone come in here and see me. Vegeta's fine, he's just never been to something like this before."
"I'm going to need you to back away from me." The doctor finally concluded, still looking up at Vegeta. "You're going to need to remain calm and respect my line of work, or else my nurses will have to escort you back to the waiting room."
The saiyan glared at the doctor, and then looked back to the Bluehead. Her mouth was tightened into a thin line that was drawn across her face in a tight frown. Her eyes were glistening with tears that she was struggling to keep from falling, and he could tell that she was likely thinking words along the lines of 'Please don't let those people come in, please don't let those people in… Why are you doing this to me, Vegeta?! Don't let those people come in!
"Fine." The saiyan growled. He stepped away from the doctor so he could find a place at Bulma's side, making sure to stomp his feet so his displeasure would be known. "But I will only allow this because she insists that she is alright with it. I am going stay right here, and if she implies that you are doing anything inappropriate, I will make sure you pay with the most painful torture."
"Oh, for the love of God!" Bulma slapped a palm to her face in response to Vegeta's threat.
The doctor glared up at Vegeta, but he relaxed slightly in his chair. He had pity for the Bluehead, he really did. She seemed to be in distress, and if she didn't want anyone walking in, he'd allow her that privacy. Finally, he turned for the door. "Everything is alright!" Dr. Sato called. "Move along!" Footsteps were heard as the unidentified individuals retreated back down the hall, and Dr. Sato released a deep breath of air. "Alright. Let's try to again. If it's even possible, Bulma, I'd like you to relax for me."
The Bluehead looked up at Vegeta and shot him a glare, furiously wiping her eyes dry, as if to say 'Now look at what you made me do!' And then she turned away, staring straight up at the ceiling, and she counted out loud to ten. Then, after a pause, she spoke. "Okay, I'm relaxed. Let's get this over with."
The saiyan couldn't bear to look as the doctor violated her – he couldn't believe that she was having to go through such a thing just to confirm that there was a child inside of her! But, in an brief moment, the deed had been done, and instantaneously there were noises that filled the room. A monitor beside the couple lit up with images that were hard to make any sense of, all while those repetitive sounds continued to surround them.
"Hear that?" The doctor asked, and he was trying to sound reassuring despite the fact that his patient's husband had just threatened him. "We have a heartbeat."
"That's what this is?" Vegeta asked. This didn't sound like a heartbeat. It sounded more like… well, he couldn't think of words explain what this resembled. The saiyan would have expected a heartbeat to be the familiar soothing series of 'ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump'… What he was hearing, instead, resembled more of a harsh wave of energy. Like thunder, it came softly before producing one loud bump!, before fading away. And it continued on like that, in an endless cycle that didn't seem as if it were going to end any time soon.
Bulma reached out and grabbed Vegeta's hand. He hadn't been expecting this, especially since he was pretty sure that he'd just pissed her off enough to last a week. She was squeezing it though, as if desperate that he not let go. The saiyan glanced down at her, and she looked up at him, and her forehead strained as if she was wanting to burst into tears all over again.
"If you look right now, you can make out the baby's profile." The doctor said, and both Vegeta and Bulma looked up at the same time to see the monitor. On it was light grey figure that was displayed on a dark backdrop, and sure enough, there is was…
"Ngh!" Vegeta startled. He hadn't been expecting it. This figure on the screen – it was so… distorted, and foreign, and yet it looked so real. There in front of him was the outline of a face, an arm, a round belly, and even a small leg. Vegeta could even make out the outline of its face! A plump cheek, and a small protruding nose. That child was a world's away, and yet he was looking right at it. "Bulma…"
The Bluehead had been trying her hardest to remain strong, but the tears were flowing down her cheeks now. The last of her strength had withered away with Vegeta's loud outburst, and any hope she had of keeping herself together faded as soon as she heard that loud heart. It was so assured, so pronounced. It was as if the child was saying "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," with every lub of its valves. She looked from the image on the monitor and back up to the saiyan prince. He was still holding her hand, and now he was gripping her just as tightly as she'd been squeezing him. Vegeta looked down at her, completely bewilderment spread across his features. "Bulma…"
She nodded, understanding that he couldn't find the words he was looking for. He seemed so amazed, and not in a bad way. It was becoming so abundantly clear that he really was going to stay by her side through all of this, and she wouldn't be feeling so alone this time. Not again.
"Bulma… It's an infant…"
She nodded once more. He was right – it certainly was. There was a baby in her. There would be no denying things now, even though she hadn't had any doubts to begin with. She was still shocked that this was happening, though. Amazed and dumbfounded that her body was going to go through this all over again…
She felt as Vegeta sheepishly wiped the tears from her cheeks, as if he were trying to do so without the doctor noticing. "We're going to have another infant," He whispered, his voice filled with awe. She looked back to the monitor again, getting another look at that baby on the screen. She had been terrified going into this exam, and now she was thinking that her world was going to change so soon. It was so still scary to think of, yet here it was...
… Whether she was ready or not, Bulma was officially in love.
AN:
(Trigger warning to anyone who might be suffering from grief, depression, or has been subjected to assault. I try to keep it brief, but everyone has different triggers, so I am warning you now).
2020 is right around the corner. We are about to enter a new decade!
The 2010s were crazy, weren't they? Even if you aren't a usual commenter, I would love if you left one and shared something that made you happy this last decade.
Me?
Well, this decade started off horribly. One of my parents, the person I was closest to in my family, succumbed to depression and passed away. That was horrible enough, but then I essentially got disowned by the remaining parent because they lost themselves to apathy. So, all in a span of months, I was suffering from tremendous feelings of abandonment and all of the mixed up feelings that come from surviving someone who has lost their life to mental illness. In school I was othered for having lost a parent in that way, became known as "that girl", and a lot of my friends stopped talking to me. The others that didn't completely disappear? Well, I was drugged and sexually assaulted in front of a large group of people at a small party that was supposed to have been safe. Yup, on a living room floor, with music playing, and lots of bright lights hitting me in the face. The sporadic and blurry memories I have from that night are of me trying to manage the will power to move, but my body was completely limp. I was trying so hard to find a way to out, kind of forced to lay there while all these horrible things were going on, and I was thinking "How did this happen? How can this be happening?" All while being laughed at by the people I thought were my friends. High school, am I right? Fuck. (Just in case you missed the memo, friends don't watch and laugh at friends that are getting sexually assaulted. Also, friends don't assault their friends.).
A lot happened in that first year of the 10s. I could list more, but that isn't the point of this. This isn't supposed to be a sob story. I mention these few things because I just want to express how bad things were, and how bad I felt. Trust me when I say that I understand how horrible it is to feel so low. I get how annoying it can be when people ask you to list things that make you happy, or to just look on the bright side of life. I get that, and my question is coming from someone who has felt as if life couldn't get any worse if it tried. Needless to say, I was very depressed for a long time after all of that stuff happened. I had PTSD, and the majority of my free time consisted of countless baths where I would just scrub myself mercilessly, feeling as if I would never be clean again. I used to even chant that to myself ("I'll never be clean, I'll never be clean"), as if somehow, in acknowledging how dirty I felt, my mind would finally give me permission to just feel okay again. The rest of my time was spent laying in bed and trying to ward off anxiety attacks, all while I wished I could see my deceased parent again. I just wanted a hug, because the living one had no care about what I was going through (even when I finally summoned the courage to confess to them).
I quite literally felt like I had nobody to lean on or turn to. It is beyond stunning when I look back on how heartbroken, anxious, and ashamed I felt back then. I didn't just wish the pain would go away - I wished I hadn't even been born. I didn't even want a memory of myself or who I was to exist. It was a horrible way to feel, and I lived like that for years. I cannot believe that I went from THAT, at the beginning of the decade, to where I am now. And that is my point for bringing any of this up. Right now I am a very happy person. I can say that without lying, and I can say that without feeling like it's something I am forcing. It's just the truth: I'm happy. That doesn't mean that all of my days are filled with me being ecstatic and screaming to the rooftops. A lot of people I know seem to feel pressure that they must feel that way at all times in order to be happy. To me, being happy means that I'm not in pain. It means that, even when I'm having bad days, I have the strength and trust in myself to get through them. And the things I appreciate help to get me through.
I have so many things I cherish about my life. My lover, the roof over my head, my job, my writing, my Nintendo, even food. I look forward to so much, and a lot of them are these little things that I can count up and feel so warm about. I never would have believed it would be possible to feel happy, or even at ease, from where I was when the decade started. I share this because I want ANYONE who might be reading this and going through a hard time to feel as if there is a light waiting for them. I don't care who you are, or what has happened to you, or where you think you're going. I don't care how daunting the new year may feel, or how scary it may be to enter a new decade. It WILL be okay! It might not be tomorrow, it might not even be next month. But that's alright... It's okay to not be okay. And someday, when you least expect it, you're going to look back and think "Wow, I can't believe it. I'm happy."
So, I asked you guys to think of something that's made you happy this decade. Why? Because, this is not a happy time of year for everyone. And what's something that made ME happy this decade, despite all of the hardships than can occur in 10 years? Well, I got to leave the country for the first time this decade. I got married. I found small ways to regain the feeling of having control of my life, and somehow (little by little) I built a home I love. I've come to terms with the hurt and the betrayal, and I've learned so much about myself from it. I have a job that I love. I get to look forward to self-care days that are spent under a blanket and in front of a TV! Hell, I am thankful for cake! I have the best pets in the world, and the best husband ever (that might be slightly biased, to be fair). Best of all? I've gotten to write some stories that ended up being rather therapeutic for me, I've read some amazing stories, and I've met some pretty amazing people from all of it!
So, what made you happy this last decade?
Here's to the closure of the 2010s, and the commencement of the 2020s. Bring it on.