Disclaimer- Sadly, I don't own DBZ. But when I take over the world I'll have Vegeta all to myself! Mwahahahahahahahaha!

Alright guys, so it's been one maybe 2 months since I've updated this story. I honestly was having trouble with this chapter but last night I went on my computer and just started writing and it flowed. So enjoy!

And thanks to:

Vegeta's first fan Psyshoitic-Hanyou Zicke Black Art

You're comments are inspiring and I thank you for that

On with the story!

Vegeta stood from his place in the shadows watching Bulma as she lay on the bed in the hospital. She was unconscious and on life support. Vegeta cringed inwardly. He couldn't help but feel that it was his fault. He had felt her ki signature coming towards the G.R. He just ignored it. If it weren't for the fact that he had noticed how faint her ki, she would have died.

'Shit…' Vegeta cursed. He should have just gone to find out what she wanted. At least she would have been home. Avoiding him most likely, but she would have been safe and well.

"Vegeta…"

Vegeta's head shot up and looked at Bulma. He could have sworn that he heard his name. No, he was hallucinating. It was time for him to go anyway. He was missing valuable training time. If they expected him to defeat these androids, he would have to get stronger. Besides, he had a reason now, Bulma

His thoughts were cut short as he felt the ki signature of a certain weakling approaching. Vegeta growled, his lips curling upwards. He despised the weakling and now he was here to see Bulma as if he owned her. Didn't he know that she belonged to him? Wait, since when did Bulma belong to him?

Vegeta shook his head as if to dislodge the thought from his mind. He had to get out of here, there was no way he was going to let that weakling catch him in here alone with Bulma. He stalked silently over to the window and slipped out just as Yamcha burst through the door.

Yamcha looked a mess. His hair was matted and unkempt. He wore a white button down shirt that he had fastened crookedly connecting the first and third button and hoop together. He had on brown and blue plaid pajama pants and white baseball sneakers. Yamcha looked as if he had dressed in the dark. Not that he cared though, as soon as he had gotten the call about Bulma he threw whatever his hands touched first onto his body and drove to the hospital.

He stopped abruptly as his eyes caught sight of Bulma's prone body lying on the hospital bed. Tears began to cascade down his face and it was all that Yamcha could do to not collapse on the floor and drown in his sorrows. He inched slowly towards the hospital bed; the only sound in the room the slight shuffling of his feet against the linoleum floor and the steady beep of the heart monitor. When he reached the edge of Bulma's bed he reached a trembling hand out to touch Bulma's bruised face. He pulled back suddenly when he heard her murmur something incoherently. He moved his face closer to hers hoping that she would repeat herself. He stayed like that for 30 seconds. When she didn't repeat what she had murmured he pulled back.

Yamcha looked around the room finding a chair next to Bulma's bed and plopped down in it. He hadn't felt tired until that moment, but as soon as he sunk into the cushioned hospital chair he felt the fatigue crash down on him like a wave. He sat there in silence fighting off the drowsiness and the thoughts that plagued his mind.

It was his entire fault that she had been hurt. It he hadn't pushed her so hard about Vegeta they wouldn't be here right now. No, they'd be at his apartment curled up in front of the TV watching old James Bond movies. Then he would watch her fall asleep in his arms and think to himself how peaceful and beautiful she looked she looked when she was sleeping. How the sound on her light breathing lulled him into a peaceful sense of being where he was happy, and then, right then before he fell asleep he would think of how lucky he was to have her in his life. He was probably the reason she had run from the restaurant and out into the rain. All he had to do was go after her, but he had stood there dumbfounded, staring as her silhouette had disappeared into the night. His stupidity had almost cost Bulma her life and he was totally to blame. Now instead of snuggling up next to her on his couch and smelling her sweet hair he was sitting here hoping for her swift recovery, praying that she would forgive him for being the cause of her pain.

It's short but I couldn't think of a better way to end it... Hope u liked it!

-Love
XxXXNsaiXxXX