CHAPTER TEN

It was getting dark quickly, the sun swiftly disappearing behind the city buildings as the cool night air began to blow it's way into the house. Bulma wrapped her pink sweater tighter around her shoulders, shivering slightly. The nights were getting cooler, signalling that winter was rapidly approaching. Bulma sighed. Where had the time gone?

Her hands subconsciously rested on her large stomach that protruded from her small frame, the only thing that kept her sane these days. She'd been forced to cut all contact with all her friends, too ashamed to face them and admit the truth behind her situation. She could just imagine the looks of pity and disgust that her friends would wear upon their faces when they looked at her.

Bulma had also ceased leaving the compound, she was much too well-known and she knew that such news would spread like wildfire and tarnish her reputation. The heiress of Capsule Corporation, Bulma Briefs, pregnant and unmarried, the child's father abandoning them both. However, Yamcha had stuck around, even staying with her for the last few months as she entered the last stages of her pregnancy, sending Puar off to stay at Kame House with Oolong and Master Roshi.

She was grateful for his kindness, although she knew that there was more behind his graciousness, something that she could no longer return, no matter how much she earnestly wished she could. Every time Bulma saw his scarred face she felt the guilt, it never went away, never dulled in the pit of her stomach. But every day she pushed it away, not wanting to dwell on such things, and instead she tried her best to stay positive, despite what a feat it had become.

The balcony door opened, and Yamcha joined Bulma outside, handing her a mug of hot chocolate before taking a seat beside her. "Thanks." she murmured into her cup, taking a generous sip of the warm liquid, feeling the warmth spread through her body. Yamcha took a sip of his own drink, before setting his mug down and stretching out his arms. "It sure is getting colder." he commented, his hands returning to his hot chocolate.

Bulma nodded in reply, her body shivering again in emphasis. "How I wish it could be summer again." she sighed, taking another drink, her breath coming out as steam in the cool air. "I hate having to wear hideous thick jumpers and pants. Winter is not an attractive season." Yamcha snorted into his mug, before bursting into laughter, which Bulma joined in with.

"I'll never understand you and your fashion needs." He told the aqua-haired woman honestly, shaking his head slightly. "Even though I've been living in the city for years now, I guess I'm still just a desert bandit at heart." Bulma turned to look at him, cocking her head to the side. "I wonder what that same bandit would say if he could see you now."

The door slid open again, this time revealing Bulma's mother. "You two, come inside before you get sick! Especially you Bulma, what if something happened to the baby?" Bunny scolded the pair, who sheepishly got up from their seats, mugs in hands and entered the building, followed by the blond woman.

Once inside, Yamcha went and sat down behind the counter, Bulma entering the kitchen and looking in the fridge, her stomach yearning for food. She stood there for a few minutes, before finally pulling out a block of cheese, peanut butter and jar of pickles. As soon as Yamcha inspected her items, he scrunched up his face in disgust at her choices.

Bulma grabbed some slices of bread, quickly making a cheese, peanut butter and pickle sandwich. Once done, she took in a large bite, smiling happily as she did so. "Man, that's good." she commented, before turning to Yamcha. "Would you like me to make you one?" she asked, taking another large bite. Yamcha shook his head furiously. "I'm right." he replied, taking the last gulp of his hot chocolate.

Bulma finished off her sandwich as Yamcha got up from his seat and went over to the sink, rinsing out his mug and setting it on the drying rack. "I should probably go and do some training before dinner." he told Bulma, who smiled warmly at him. "It's good that you're getting back into it." she told him, patting his arm gently.

Yamcha nodded. "Well, there's only a year left, and I've slacked off a lot. When I think of what everyone else must have been doing..." he trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "Anyway, I'll be here for dinner." Bulma punched him softly in the arm in a friendly gesture. "You'd better, since I'm helping Mom cook tonight." She turned away from him, heading towards the fridge to open it once more. "We're going to have such a feast tonight, roast beef with potatoes and pumpkins and-"

Splash.

"...Bulma?"

The aqua-haired woman turned to her scarred guest, her blue eyes wide with fear. Yamcha's heart froze with panic, he had never seen her look so scared before. His eyes trailed down to her legs, where a puddle of liquid pooled between her feet. "Is that...did your water just break?" he asked Bulma incredulously, and all she could do was nod in reply, before she felt her legs collapse underneath her.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her, and she gripped on tightly to them. "Bunny! Call an ambulance!" Yamcha called out loudly to her mother, who popped her head in the door. "What's the matt- oh my!" Bunny exclaimed loudly, before disappearing again. Bulma began to whimper as she had her first contraction, the pain was excruciating. "Just hold on. Everything will be alright, I promise." came a whisper in her ear, and she could only hope that Yamcha was right.

"Bulma, just remember to breathe. In and out."

"Just try to relax."

Uh, Bulma? You're kind of hurting my hand..."

CRACK!

"...What the hell was that?"

"I think...I think that was another bone breaking..."

"JUST GET THIS THING OUT OF ME!"

Bulma's face turned a violent shade of crimson as she let out another scream, the pain coming from her womb too hard to bear. To her left sat Yamcha, his own face contorted with pain as her hand clenched his, holding so tightly that his normally tan skin was slowly turning white from the lack of blood. Her parents stood together on her right, Bunny's face worried as she clasped her hands together to her bosom, Dr. Briefs staring at his daughters stomach in horror.

She knew she looked dreadful, but that was the furthest thing from her mind at that moment. All Bulma wanted was for the child that thrashed around in her abdomen to come out into the world, and no longer cause damage to her insides. Her swollen stomach was already splotched with black, blue and purple bruises, the result of having a Saiyan child. She wondered how on earth Chi-Chi had managed to survive her own pregnancy and delivery of Gohan, Bulma wasn't so sure that she would be lucky enough to live through the whole thing.

Another contraction came, sending Bulma arching off the bed, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead as she let out another painful yell, making her three companions wince and attempt to cover their ears. Once it had subsided, she slumped back onto the bed, panting heavily. The baby had already managed to break numerous bones in her body, and Bulma wasn't sure how many she had left intact. Never had she felt such an intense pain, and vowed that this would be the only and last time she would give birth.

Finally, the doctor walked it, a cheery middle-aged man with thick chestnut hair and bright green eyes. "Hello Ms. Briefs, how are we doing today?" he asked cheerily. Bulma merely stared at him, amazed that he could ask such a question, considering how horrible she looked. The doctor seemed to notice her silence, taking a good look at his patient before letting out a low gasp as his eyes settled on her stomach. "Oh my."

He immediately looked down to check the progress between her legs, his head coming back into view moments later. "This baby needs to come out, and soon. We need to get to theatre, now." he informed Bulma, who could only gasp and moan in reply as another contraction came, thankfully this one not as long and not as hurtful as the others. She looked at her parents in desperation, but all they could do was give her reassuring smiles. She turned her eyes to Yamcha instead, he was staring at her with a mix of horror and worry on his handsome scarred features.

Fear began to grow in her body, she became scared for the well being of the baby, as well as herself. What if she didn't survive the delivery? Would her baby grow up without either parents? Tears began to fall down her cheeks, but she took no notice of them as a group of nurses approached her, wearing the same look of horror on their faces. "We're off now, let's go have that baby." the doctor exclaimed, trying to lift up the spirit of the room, but failing miserably.

Bulma looked at Yamcha and her parents helplessly as she was taken out of the room, hoping that there was something she could do to ensure that she would see their faces again. It was Yamcha's face that broke her heart, it was contorted with intense despair, a look she had never seen on him before and hoped to never see again. She knew then that he still loved her, that wasn't going to end any time soon. For a brief moment, she wished with all her might that the baby was his, and that they had stayed together and achieved the hurdle of becoming a family.

But reality had a cruel way of crushing hopes and dreams, and as another contraction made her contort her body in pain, Bulma's thoughts were long forgotten. For a moment, she almost wished that Vegeta was there with her. He was always so calm and collected, never one to freak out at anything. She could use someone like that, someone to simply roll their eyes at her and tell her to stop panicking so much. But no, he wasn't here, he wasn't even on earth. Vegeta simply didn't care about anyone other than himself, and unfortunately Bulma had to accept that part of him.

Finally she was wheeled into the surgery room, blinded temporarily by the bright lights that hung from the ceiling, bouncing off the white that was everywhere – the floors, the walls, even the people surrounding her were dressed in white. Her heart began to race as fear crept into her body, and the baby could sense her distress, moving around more and causing more pain to her insides.

"Alright now Bulma, I need you to relax and lie down straight for me." the doctor approached her, a surgical mask over his face. Tears began to flow freely down her face as Bulma simply nodded, laying her body down carefully on the bed, making sure to take deep, rhythmic breaths. Her eyes shifted to her right, where a pretty young nurse stood waiting, a oxygen mask in her hand.

The nurse turned her hazel eyes to the doctor, who was inspecting Bulma carefully, his eyes constantly returning to her swollen and bruised stomach that lay exposed. A contraction came, the people surrounding her giving loud gasps in unison as she squirmed on the bed, tears burning in her eyes before it slowed, and she could breath again. The doctor gave a nod, and the nurse held the mask over Bulma's face. "Just take a few deep breaths, and it will all be over soon."

That was the last thing Bulma remembered.