Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Heartless ❯ And He Left ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Heartless

Chapter 3: And He Left

"Alright, doctor. You called, so I guess the lab results are in. What is it?"

The old doctor smiled and adjusted his glasses. "The symptoms are neither stress-related nor viral, as you believed, Ms. Briefs."

"Spit it out, doctor," Bulma replied impatiently.

"You're pregnant."

*****

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

Yamcha sat down in disbelief. He was the only one who seemed surprised. Her parents were always strange, and took the news as if Bulma had announced that she had changed the paper towel roll. "That's nice, dear."

Suddenly Yamcha broke into a wide grin. "You're really pregnant? We're having a baby?! Bulma, that's wonderful!" Yamcha jumped up and hugged her, picking her up and dancing around. Bulma was awash with relief at his reaction. If it wasn't for that nagging doubt in the back of her mind…

*****

The living room was filled with mounds of baby clothes, baby toys, a huge crib, and other essentials for the blessed event, now a month away. Bulma and Chichi were oohing and aahing over each article, while Goku and Yamcha were struggling with the construction of the crib. Neither of them had much technical skill, and they had to be extra careful with the parts, extra flimsy in their super-humanly strong hands.

Yamcha smiled, staring at Bulma. "Just look at her."

"Yeah! I've never seen her this happy," Goku handed Yamcha the directions. Yamcha tossed them aside with a look of `who needs them.'

"I'm telling you, Goku. This is it. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her. When I heard about my child…"

So lost was Yamcha in the happiness of being an expectant father, he missed the look of sadness and pity on Goku's face.

*****

The waiting room was packed. Among the crowd of normal expecting relatives, the oddest assortment of people waited. Goku was trying to fight off Mrs. Briefs' over-friendliness while sweating under Chichi's jealous glare. Dr. Briefs was disconcerted, less from his daughter's situation and more from the fact he couldn't take his cat into the hospital. Master Roshi was systematically checking out, and being smacked upside the head by, every woman in the room; he only gave up his quest when he got a healthy dose of pepper spray. Krillen was being just as annoying by asking every person in a lab coat about Bulma. Pu'ar was simply floating in a corner nervously. And Gohan-he was showing a gap in his excellent education.

"But, Mom. How did the baby get inside Bulma? And isn't that only supposed to happen when two people are married?"

Chichi only paled. She would be the one to give the talk, she knew that. But not today.

*****

Yamcha was grateful for his martial arts training now. Otherwise his hand would be crippled from Bulma's grip.

Sweat poured from her body, but for once she wasn't complaining. She merely screamed in pain with each push.

"We have a head," the doctor crowed.

Bulma gave two final pushes, and the baby was out. Panting for breath, she whispered Yamcha's name under her breath as they heard the first wails of this new life. For now, Yamcha could only stare amazed into Bulma's eyes. This was the happiest moment of his life. He could never love another.

The nurse was busy cleaning up the baby. "It's a boy." Yamcha's heart leapt in glee. "But it seems to have an extra appendage."

The comment took a few seconds to register in Yamcha's mind. Slowly, he looked away from Bulma, mostly to explain the `extra appendage' to the doctor, and saw the child for the first time.

A tail.

Yamcha had found his perfect world, and it wasn't his. He looked into Bulma's eyes, and that confirmed it.

A Saiyan child.

"And what name will we put on the birth certificate? Perhaps named after the child's father?" the doctor asked obliviously.

Yamcha, glaring at the woman he wanted more than life itself, answered with all the hatred and hurt he felt crashing down on him. "Yeah, I think Vegeta's a fine name for the kid." He then turned to the doctor and stated the phrase that had been screaming in his head over and over. "I'm not the father."

And he left.