A/N: Finally, an update! Pity this is the WORST CHAPTER EVER. Auuugh. This chapter is mostly filler and recap...with very little new stuff. I hate the inconsistancies, and no matter how many times I re-wrote this, it still sucked. But take heart in the fact the next chapter shouldn't be so delayed and will involve a confrontation with Vegeta and skip ahead to 8 months later. GASP. But for now, you get this crap while I try to fix the story and get back into the groove of writing. As always, I do NOT own DBZ or the characters; that belongs to Akira Toriyama. Pity; this would make a bitchin' plot arc. or not. I dunno. I'm too tired.
Calm Before the Storm
Yamcha stirred slightly, the blare of his alarm jerking him from the first restful sleep he had in months. It figures, he thought groggily. He groaned and slapped at the snooze button, silencing the alarm and rolling over again. In his sleepy mind, he was aware that something was wrong and that he had been upset about something or another, but he couldn't recall just yet. Ah, the blissful first few seconds of being awake before I realize why my life sucks so bad. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, memories of what had happened thus far slowing falling into place as he became more awake. The brief happiness he had experienced last night, the self satisfaction he had before drifting off, it had all become crushed under the weight of reality. He hated that; unfortunately, that sort of thing seemed to happen to him quite often. Par for the course, he told himself over and over again. It's just par for the fucking course. He groaned unhappily, slinging an arm over his face. What was he going to do now? He had no idea how to manage himself normally, let alone while he was carrying a baby (that idea still seemed a little more than messed up in his mind too). And what of birth? Kami, he didn't even want to think about that. Reality was indeed a cruel mistress, he found.
Maybe...maybe he could ask Vegeta for help; see if the Saiyajin knew what to do. But he quickly discarded that idea. He doubted Vegeta would even believe him, and even if he did...how would he react? We're talking about the guy that is always shooting sharp comments at you, making fun of you whenever he can, the guy who habitually beat you up for months on end. What if he did believe you? Do you think it would be better? That he'd give you helpful hints? Like that would ever happen. He shivered a bit and let his hands slid over his stomach protectively. Maybe Vegeta didn't need to know. Like, ever. He knew though, in the back of his mind, he couldn't possibly hide it from the Saiyajin no Oji forever, though for the time being he blissfully ignored that fact.
He finally figured after a little more reflection, he should at least make a to-do list of goal and things, well, to do in the near future at least. First thing- get up out of bed. Second thing- think of more things to do. He slid his hands off his stomach and planted them on each side of his body, pushing himself up into a sitting position. For some reason, he felt like his body was made of lead. Oh, he was not a morning person. At least he didn't feel like puking his guts out for once. He felt a little queasy, yes, but not 'sick-to-his-stomach', which was quite frankly a welcome change. He spun himself around and stood up, stretching tall with a yawn. He then looked down as his stomach which, upon closer inspection, wasn't quite as swollen as he had previously thought. It had come out in a small paunch, but it wasn't domed out too far. It was, in fact, barely noticeable. Maybe he was going crazy; after all, just last night he held conversation with himself. That was certainly not a good sign. Maybe...maybe he was just stressed. He liked to think that was what was wrong, anyways, and he really wasn't too far off.
He toddled out to the kitchen, feeling a little hungry. He almost didn't want to eat, given his recent situation with puking everything up when he ate. But he figured he should at least try something light; after all, he was eating for two now. The trick would be finding something that didn't make him hurl. He counted out instant Ramen and ice cream right away-- he knew from recent experience that all those did was make him hurl. He rummaged around through the cupboard for something suitable and settled on some chicken soup. That's always been the staple for when you have an upset stomach, right? And it's supposed to be pretty healthy as well, he decided.
He stuck a bowl in the microwave and sat down at the table while he waited, drumming his fingers rhythmically against the tabletop. He paused and shifted restlessly, resting his chin in his hands while he tried to think of more things for his 'to-do' list. He figured that, since he had no idea how to manage pregnancy, he should go to the bookstore and grab a book on what else?-- pregnancy. Of course, he doubted that they had anything along the lines of 'male pregnancy for dummies.' But still...he wagered he should at least see what they had and get something. It was better than going into this blind.
The shrill beep of the microwave pulled him from his trance and he stood up to go retrieve his soup. He fished it out delicately, sitting down at the table to eat. He sipped at his soup, little by little and then placed the empty bowl in the sink. he lumbered off to his room after eating and dug out a pair of clothes. He yarded his pants on, relieved they still fit. They were a little tight, but other than that they still fit without being terribly comfortable. Thank Kami, he thought to himself. He knew he wouldn't stay this small forever-- he had seen what happened to Bulma when she had been pregnant with Trunks. The woman had ballooned out to the point it looked like she swallowed a basketball. He was dreading the point where he'd have to pick up and actually wear huge maternity clothes. He didn't fancy the fact of plumping out as some alien baby grew inside his abdominal cavity much either. He groaned, forcing those thoughts away. He was already under enough stress. Then another thought cropped up. Forget about hiding his pregnancy from Vegeta, how was he going to hide it from everyone else? What would everyone think? What was he going to say? He couldn't just tell them why he was carrying a child, because that would entail telling them about Vegeta...and he really didn't want to do that. But he also knew they wouldn't take 'I dunno' as an answer either. He swallowed deeply, his hands trembling as he pulled on his socks and shoes.He reached up and rubbed his tummy gingerly again, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. Alright, just chill out. You still have some time to figure something out. They won't really notice anything's different for a few more months, right? Yeah, yeah. You still have some time, he thought to himself, grabbing his keys off the table. You still have some time, but not much.
About an hour later, he returned home from the bookstore with two books. He hurried inside to get out of the biting winter cold-- so fast, it seemed, that the seasons changed! He took off his jacket and exchanged his shoes for slippers before toddling into the living room to go check his new wares. He dumped the books out, tossing the bag off to the side. He stared down at the paperbacks, thinking back to the bookstore. The books hadn't been too terribly expensive; that wasn't what was bothering him. No, it had been the process of sneaking to the Pregnancy and Parenting section while trying to look nonchalant like he wasn't hiding any sort of abomination against nature, all the while looking out for anyone he might know that had been the pain. And then the clerk at the check-out...he remembered how flustered he got when she had smirked and asked 'Expecting?' It had been so reminiscent of his trip to the supermarket just a day ago when the question of the day was 'Trying?' It wasn't quite the same phrase, but his face had turned the same deep shade of red. His reply to this cashier had been no smoother. It had been something along the lines of 'Yes...I mean, not for me...for my ladyfriend' both preceded and followed by nervous peals of laughter. The cashier proceeded to look at him as if he had two heads, while he paid and then darted off.
So much for 'nonchalant.' Yamcha wasn't even sure he fully understood what that word meant ANYWAYS.
The one good thing about his excursion, however, was that at least he didn't bump into anyone he knew. Thank Kami for small miracles. he told himself. He knew he was being ridiculously paranoid, but he justified it by thinking If anyone else was in my situation-- Kami forbid-- they'd do the same. Of course, he had no basis for that, as he was sure that his situation wasn't normally a happening thing.
He cracked open the thicker of the two books, one with a simple black cover entitled 'The Pregnancy Bible.' He opened the book in the middle...right to the section on birth. He gawped wide eyed at the lovely (not) illustrations the book so kindly displayed. Cor...that looks...painful, he thought, a little more than stunned. He slammed the book shut, and set it back on the coffee table. He didn't even want to think about what childbirth was going to be like. There were only two ways out down there, and he didn't quite enjoy the idea of pushing a baby out of either of them. He rubbed his belly habitually; how WAS he even going pop the kid out? He had been avoiding thinking about it, but it had been steadily nagging at him all day. But even without thinking about where the kid was going to come out of, he wondered just how he was going to deal with birthing some alien baby. Normally, people would shamble off to a hospital and then the doctors dictated what to do from there.
It wouldn't be that easy for him.
He couldn't just got to a hospital and be like 'hey, having a baby, do your thing.' He was sure people would think he was insane. And even if there was the off chance they decided to admit him and scan him to see what was up, how would they react to the fact he was a man having a baby? He knew they wouldn't just let him have the baby and then go on. They'd want to know how it happened, and what made him so different. He'd become their guinea pig, and the media...oh Kami, they'd have a field day. It didn't help that he still had a bit of reputation from his baseball days. Become famous once and even after you fade out of the limelight, people will still know your name. If something shocking happens, you'll suddenly become the talk of the town again. Kami, I can't afford that, he thought grimly. It wasn't as though he had a reputation to destroy anymore, but he still didn't want to be gawked at as he was some sort of freak. Even if he sort of was.
He slung and arm over his face and groaned. Since when did life become so hard? Vegeta...this was all Vegeta's fault! He balled his hands up into fists. It was Vegeta who took Bulma away! It was Vegeta who never shut up, who always made fun of him. He growled and slammed his fist into the couch. He rolled over and jerked upright, stomping around the living room. It was all Vegeta. Vegeta beat on him, just because he knew Yamcha was too weak in compared to his 'mighty Saiyajin power' to even put up a good fight. He knew he held intimidation over the human. He abused that power. It was Vegeta who...who...violated him that night! Vegeta who put that baby in him. Yamcha growled angrily, hot tears welling up in his eyes. He stomped back to the couch and threw himself over the cushions. He buried his face in the pillow, sobbing miserably. He hated that Saiyajin, he hated the hand fate dealt him, and he hated himself for being so pathetic. He curled up in a ball and lay on the couch for a good fifteen minutes before uncurling and sighing heavily. What was wrong with him? He was so emotional...it disgusted him. He hated sobbing like a woman. Par for the course, he thought glumly.
He rolled to his back and grabbed his book off the table, opening it again, this time more cautiously. He opened it to the beginning, skipping through the first few months. He closed his eyes, thinking back to when...the 'incident had occurred'. It had been summer...August, right? It was colder now...December? It had been four months. Four months he had carried this child. What a Christmas present, he thought cynically. He read through the section on the fourth month of pregnancy.
"'As you enter the fourth month, you'll start to get a little break. We like to call it the calm before the storm.' Oh lovely, so it will get worse. 'Emotional and hormonal spikes will start to become less common, and you won't be plagued with such frequent morning sickness, though some report still bearing a sensitivity to certain smells and tastes.' Great. At least I won't be hurling every morning, so I suppose every cloud...isn't... a storm cloud... or however that goes." Yamcha closed the book and set it down, resisting the urge to read ahead. No use in squicking yourself out. he thought to himself.
He lay on the couch and wrapped his arms around his belly, closing his eyes peacefully as he tried to sneak a nap before reality and stress came around to bother him into insomnia once more. He let out a long breath. Kami, was there ever a long road ahead of him. I still ain't gonna quit though; I'll walk every inch of this road ahead of me with no regrets. He knew inwardly he'd have plenty of regrets to deal with, but it never sounded quite as attractive when you admitted your regrets. Yes, that certainly killed the inspiration. And with the ordeal ahead, he'd need all the cheer and inspiration he could get.
SO YEAH. Bad, huh? XD Like I said, the next chapter should be forthcoming at a more rapid pace than this one AND will be more interesting. GASP. R&R as always, but be gentle on me for this chapter ;o; Also...I forget if I left it in, but I think I mentioned two books in this chapter...and I never mentioned the second book or what it was about. if I left that in, it'll come up in other chapters. If I didn't...it'll still show up in other chapters XD Have fun, and don't read bad fics...or something. AND REMEMBER: It's not the fall that kills you, it's the landing!
