Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lies, Deception, and a Baby ❯ Painful Truths ( Chapter 12 )

Disclaimer: If you've actually read the other chapters, then you know what this is all about. If not … then why the HFIL are you reading this one?! To spoil the story for yourself?! Tisk, tisk!

Lies, Deception, and a Baby

Chapter 12: Painful Truths

Bulma didn't know what to say. He wanted the truth? Well, he couldn't handle the truth!

Or maybe it was the other way around.

Bulma had grown so used to all these lies she'd been telling … could she even handle telling the truth? Or would she choke on her words and resort to the soft, silken comfort that lies offered?

"Well, Woman?" Vegeta asked her, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes two black holes completely devoid of any emotion that might once have resided in those obsidian depths. "I'm waiting."

"I … Vegeta, I," Bulma began, stuttering. How could she come out and admit everything to him? The web of lies she had woven around herself and her unborn child?

Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

Bulma closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

For the future she was about to steal from her son.

"Can we … talk about this somewhere else?" she asked quickly, chickening out. This `telling the truth' thing was a lot harder than she had thought!

Vegeta growled. "No, Woman. You're going to tell me the truth, right here, right now." He glared at her, and it was almost a relief for the blue-haired woman to see the familiar look of anger in his eyes. "Now, SPEAK," he commanded.

Bulma gulped. Almost a relief, but not quite!

"Well, you see, it's like this," she began, fidgeting. She felt like she was 5 years old again, caught with her hand in the cookie jar, forced to explain the embarrassing situation to her parents.

But then again, her parents had never been as scary or as intimidating as Vegeta.

"Umm, I kinda lied," she told him, flinching away at the spark of rage that flashed in his eyes at her words. "About the whole sleeping with Yamcha thing. That never really happened." Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, with barely disguised anger and rage in his eyes, she decided to add in a little positive note. "I've been completely celibate since you left," she added, hoping to alleviate at least some of his anger towards her.

It didn't work.

Vegeta snorted. "You expect me to believe that, after all the lies you've told me?" he ground out, his anger growing by the second.

How could she? He raged internally. How could she lead me on, make me develop, he shuddered, feelings for her, and then lie to me about everything?

He had trusted her. Hell, he had even interrupted his training in outer space to return to this slimy mudball of a planet because of her! And then she had lied to him.

Vegeta's eyes widened. If the child wasn't Yamcha's, then that meant …

"Is the child mine?" he asked harshly, his eyes boring through her.

Bulma shivered. How could she answer that, without making herself seem like an evil, lying bitch?

`You can't,' that wicked internal voice cackled at her, `because you are an evil, lying bitch!'

Bulma moaned. She couldn't deal with this, not opposition from two different sources.

"What child?"

Make that three.

While she and Vegeta had been holding their little `discussion,' Yamcha had managed to pick himself from his little crater in the ground, and hobbled over to the two people to whom he was sexually attracted.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at Yamcha's comment, then started laughing.

Bulma winced. Things were not turning out good at all.

"What's so funny?" Yamcha asked, dazed and confused due to his recent beating.

Vegeta smirked as his short, ironic bout of mirth ended. "Not only did she plan to pass off my child, a Saiyan, as yours, the Woman didn't even bother telling you the brat was already on the way!" He broke into that evil laugh of his again.

Bulma made a mental note never to tell any funny jokes around him, ever again.

That was … if she was ever going to see him, ever again, she thought sadly.

This might be the last time he ever entered her life, and the thought nearly made her weep.

Damn pregnant hormones, her friendly inner voice muttered sadly.

Yamcha just stared at his fiancée-soon to be ex-fiancée?-with wide eyes.

"You're pregnant?!" he exclaimed.

Bulma, unable to speak, simply nodded.

Yamcha blinked. "You mean, you knew you were pregnant, with that bastard's bastard kid, and you were going to pawn it off on me, and tell me it was mine?"

Bulma nodded again, tears welling up in her eyes.

When he put it that way … it really did sound kind of amoral.

But her intentions had been good! All she had wanted was for her child to have a father.

Was that too much to ask?

"Thank Kami I found all this out before the wedding," Yamcha said, running a hand through his hair and wincing from the pain as a cut on his hand brushed against a giant lump on his scalp. "If you're this much of a bitch now, just think what you'll be like twenty years from now!" Yamcha shuddered at the thought of a frying-pan wielding Bulma chasing him around the grounds of Capsule Corp, yelling at him loud enough that her voice could be heard all the way from Kami's Lookout.

"Hey!" Bulma exclaimed, angry at Yamcha's unfair portrayal of her character, "I resent that!"

Vegeta snorted, his eyes still locked on her face. "Why resent the truth, Woman? Just accept the fact that you're a bitch!" His eyes began to burn again, with … bitterness? "We all have our dark sides," he said, his voice low, almost as though he were reminiscing. "The key to victory is to not only accept the dark, but to embrace it." He smirked. "That's why you humans will never amount to anything," he declared. "Because you're all afraid of the dark."

Bulma glared at him. "I'll have you know," she said, poking a finger at the hard slabs of muscle that composed his chest, "that I am not afraid of the dark! The nightlight in my room is there so that I won't stub my toe on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, not because I am afraid that monsters will somehow magically appear under my bed and come up and eat me in the middle of the night!" At the reminder of her childhood nightmares, which sometimes plagued her still, Bulma nearly peed her pants before remembering the situation she was in.

She couldn't let either of the men see her weakness!

And she couldn't let either of them know that she really was afraid of the dark, either.

That would just be embarrassing!

Vegeta snorted. "Whatever, Woman," he growled. "The fact remains that you lied to me about the brat." He glowered at her. "How the fuck did you ever think to pull that one off, you baka? It would be obvious as soon as the brat was born that it was Saiyan!"

"I …" Bulma had planned on cutting off the tail, but she realized now that Vegeta was right. Most of her friends in the Z senshi could sense a person's ki. Saiyans definitely have more ki than humans! It would have puzzled her friends, once the child was born, how Yamcha could have fathered a son even more powerful than himself.

"Hmph. It doesn't matter," Vegeta snarled. Bulma looked up into his eyes, and was even more scared by them this time than she ever had been before.

They were cold, as cold as ice. Shining black orbs, frozen over by the veneer he had placed around his emotions.

Bulma quickly looked away. She couldn't stand to see him looking at her like that. As though he didn't care.

As though he never cared.

Vegeta growled again when she broke her gaze free of his, and then shot up into the sky, and off into the distance, without another word.

Just like before, Bulma thought to herself. He's leaving without saying goodbye, without saying even a single word. A single tear slipped down her cheek. At least he's staying on the planet this time.

Although he could always fly back to Capsule Corp and hop into his space pod at a moment's notice.

That thought wasn't a very comforting one. Especially not at a time like this, when all her carefully made, well-thought-out plans were crumbling around her, turning into dust, and blowing away.

Bulma glanced up, to see Yamcha still standing there, uncertainty etched all over his bloody, battered, bruised features.

"Yamcha," she said softly, not knowing what he needed to hear. "Yamcha, I-"

Yamcha shook his head and held up his hand, wincing as he did so from the pain. "No, Bulma. Let me speak."

Bulma just nodded, and held her hands together in front of her, like a child, nervously awaiting the punishment of the day.

"Bulma," Yamcha said with a sigh, shaking his head. "I don't think it's going to work out."

Bulma nearly snorted. Was it that obvious, that you just now figured it out? She thought snidely.

All she said was, "I understand."

Yamcha let out a relieved breath and smiled at her, before grimacing at the pain the facial action caused. "Well. So, uh, good luck with the baby," he said, and started to walk away.

Bulma turned away from him, and started the slow, long walk back to her home. She planned to go upstairs to her room and let out all of her emotions. Namely a wild, thorough bout of tears that would hopefully cleanse her soul of this sadness that had engulfed her.

Damn pregnant hormones! She cursed herself again.

"Oh, Bulma, wait!"

She turned around hopefully as she saw Yamcha running, or rather, limping, towards her.

"Yes, Yamcha?" she asked, unable to keep her hopeful expectations out of her voice. "What is it?"

"I almost forgot," he said sheepishly, reaching her. He held out his hand.

Bulma looked at him blankly, then down at the outstretched hand, then back at his face.

"Yamcha?" she asked, confused.

"The ring," he said.

Bulma blinked.

"Since we're not engaged anymore, you have to give me back the ring."

Bulma glared at him. "You break off our engagement, which is going to force me into a life of single motherhood, and now you want your fucking ring back?" by the end of this she was screaming at the top of her lungs, her audacity at his actions overwhelming.

Yamcha cringed and cowered away from her. "Y-yeah," he replied. Then, more bravely, standing as tall as he could in his current state, he said, "You could always get Vegeta to marry you."

Bulma let out a wild scream the likes of which would have terrified a banshee.

"You are such an idiot, Yamcha!" she seethed, taking the cheap, cubic-zirconia ring off her finger and flinging it at him. It his him in the eye, then bounced off and fell to the ground, lost somewhere among the grass. Yamcha clutched his eye and screeched in pain, then leaned over, searching frantically for the ring among the swaying green blades, with the use of only one eye. The store where he had bought the ring had a 15-day return policy, so he had to return it by tomorrow in order to get his $35 back, or else he'd be forced to keep the ring forever!

"Here's a tip for you in the future, Yamcha," Bulma spat angrily at the scarred warrior, "You broke off the engagement. If the guy breaks off the engagement, he doesn't get the ring back, because that's just not fair! If the girl breaks off the engagement, then she has to give it back, because otherwise it would be rude. So technically, I don't have to give your ring back! I'm just doing it because I don't want to have any reminders of you near me, ever again!" She was back to yelling at him.

Yamcha didn't even hear a word she said, as he stood up, successfully clutching the tiny ring in one hand even as the other still remained covering his wounded eye. "Found it!" he exclaimed, dropping it into his pocket.

Unfortunately for him, his pocket had been torn during the fight with Vegeta, so the ring just slipped through the material and landed in the grass again.

Bulma saw, but decided not to tell him.

After all, the asshole was leaving her, abandoning her and her baby! She didn't owe him anything!

"Bulma," he murmured, looking at her sadly, with one eye. "I'm really sorry, Bulma. I know how much you wanted to marry me." He shook his head sadly. "But I just can't marry a woman who'd sleep with a guy like that!" His eyes began to glaze over as he thought of the Saiyan Prince. "Although, I have to admit, he is really hot. And his ass is so tight." He shivered with pleasure at the thought of grabbing that tight ass and fondling it. "And those lips!" He turned his attention back to Bulma, his eye vividly bright with longing. "Is he a good kisser? And a good lay? I'll bet he's wonderful in the sack!" Yamcha shuddered with ecstasy. "He's certainly got the equipment for it! Oh, what I wouldn't give to be alone with him for just 15 minutes." Forgetting all about Bulma's presence for the moment, Yamcha slipped the hand not holding his injured eye into his pants and began to stroke his tiny self.

"Yamcha!" Bulma screeched, bringing him back to his senses and causing him to blush as he quickly jerked his hand out of his pants in embarrassment. "No masturbating in my yard!"

"Yes, Bulma," he muttered. "Well, gotta go!" In a flash, he was off. He'd go back to his place, start a nice bubble bath, and fill the tub with white cream as visions of the naked Saiyan Prince frolicked through his head.

Bulma shook her head. "You sure know how to pick `em, girl." A wimpy weakling, and a mass murderer. What was wrong with her taste in men? Why couldn't she fall for a nice, normal guy, like all the other girls did? It just wasn't fair!

As she slowly walked back to the house, she let out a forlorn sigh, and looked towards the sky in longing.

And here I am, alone again, she thought sadly. The one thing I tried to prevent through my lies, came back around to bite me in the ass. The one thing I feared the most, happened.

She leaned down and picked up the dull ring from the ground, and turned it around in her fingers. A symbol of a dead-end relationship, lost forever. But on the bright side, she never would have been happy with Yamcha anyway.

Bulma squeezed her eyes shut, holding back the tears, as her hand fisted around the ring. There was nothing wrong with keeping a few souvenirs of a time gone by. In fact, it would be good to keep it. Then she could look at it every morning when she woke up, and remember her mistakes, so that she would never repeat them again.

Pocketing the ring, Bulma placed her hands on her flat stomach as she continued her slow walk across the yard to her house. She and her baby would get along just fine, without a man. She would raise her baby by herself, with love. Who needed a father? After all, her own father could be her son's male role model, and she would give her child enough love for two parents.

Why, then, did she feel so empty when she thought of living her life alone, with just herself and her child for company?

Why did she feel as though her heart were aching?

Why did she feel as though her last chance for happiness had just slipped through her fingers, and flown away, without a single word?

Without even saying goodbye.

A/N: Aww, that was so sad! Bulma's all alone. But not for long! … I'm sure Yamcha will come back asking about the ring any minute now! ^.~

Next Chapter: Bulma has a rather … disturbing dream. Oh, yeah … and can you smell that? It smells kind of like … a lemon. Mmm, lemonade!

Love, Tina