Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ You're What?! ❯ A Turn for the Worse ( Chapter 15 )

You're What?! Chapter 15: A Turn for the Worse

"Bikini. No. Bulla. No. Vega? How did…Vegeta!" Bulma looked at the list before her and couldn't help but laugh at the scrawling handwriting at the bottom of the page. For the last month the mother-to-be had been writing a list of possible names for the baby. With just a little over two months left before the little bundle of joy came into the world, Bulma was starting to panic over finding a name for her little girl. She was just going through another list, marking off names into three categories: yes, maybe, and no. So far she had a whole page of nos. At this rate the baby was going to be named "girl", which she figured would be fine by her mate. He tended to call everyone by his or her gender anyway. She was still "woman", from time to time, and Trunks still had the privilege of being "boy. Hence, it seemed more than likely that this newest addition would be called "girl" every now and again.

She looked at the list again and stared at what was distinctively her husband's writing at the bottom. He was hell-bent on naming the child Vega and was doing everything in his power to get her to consider the name, such as adding it to her list when she had not been looking. Smirking, Bulma lifted up her pencil.

"Vega. NO." And with that, Bulma wrote in bold letters a big N and an O. She even underlined it three times and then circled it for good measure. The blue-haired scientist knew she was asking for it. Her husband would not be pleased to see that his choice had been dismissed so adamantly, again. There was no doubt in her mind that there would be a minor scuffle over the issue. She could practically envision it right now. Vegeta would look over the list, see the huge NO next to his choice for a name and throw down the pad in anger. He would then seek her out and demand to know what was so wrong with his choice of a name. Then they would debate for the next twenty minutes about the stupid name.

Bulma propped her head up with her elbow, which was resting on the armrest of the black leather couch in the living room, and sighed. To this day, she still didn't know why she was so adverse to the name Vega. It really wasn't that bad of a name. Perhaps she was being too picky. As of late, Vegeta's argument for his choice in their daughter's name was: "do you have any better ideas?" To be completely honest; she didn't. That's why it was becoming more and more critical for her to find a name, because the longer she waited the better Vegeta's odds of winning the naming game. The way things looked now, she had a sinking feeling that her daughter would be Vega "Undecided Middle Name" Briefs.

Throwing her pad and pencil down onto the glass coffee table sitting right in front of her, Bulma slowly got up out of her seat. All this thinking was making her hungry. Anyway, a break would do her good. No need to stress herself out. Putting her hands at the base of her back for support, she began to shuffle towards the kitchen. At just under seven months into the pregnancy, Bulma felt like a blimp. She felt huge enough as it was right now, she didn't even want to think about the fact that her daughter still had two more months of growth to go.

Coming into the kitchen, Bulma noticed some technical readouts and project designs sprawled out on the counter of the elaborate island in the center of the room. She had completely forgotten about bringing them down this morning. As her movement became more limited, due to carrying the half-Saiyan baby, Bulma had been doing most of her work from the comfort of her home. Occasionally, she may make it to her personal laboratory, but even that was becoming more and more infrequent. Luckily, she had found these documents before Trunks and Vegeta came in for lunch; otherwise, there was the very real possibility that they would be destroyed in the wake of the Saiyan's feeding. Carefully, Bulma rolled up the plans and slid them into the tote bag she had been using to transport them around the house. Putting the tote bag next to her intended seat, Bulma turned her attention to satisfying the cravings that we bombarding her at that moment.

Opening up the enormous stainless steel refrigerator, she surveyed the contents with great interest. Spotting one of her intended prey, she plucked out a giant jar from the shelves adorning the door. It may be cliché, but right now nothing sounded better than the huge dill pickles swimming the jar she placed on the counter next to her. Still not satisfied, the mother-to-be continued her hunt. Eventually she decided on cold pepperoni pizza and some ice cream as the compliments to her pickles.

Setting down her food on the large, cherry-wood kitchen table, Bulma went to get the utensils for her unusual feast. Now armed with a plate, a bowl, a spoon, and a knife, the blue-haired genius settled down into her high-backed chair and let out a heavy sigh. She was truly starting to feel the strain of carrying this baby. Perhaps she would have to talk to the doctor about an induced labor, or caesarian-section, delivery for Bulma was truly starting to doubt her ability to carry this little one to term. Granted she was older than she was when she'd had Trunks, but she hadn't had half the trouble with Trunks' pregnancy that she was experiencing now. Bulma almost let out a small snort at this thought, and she'd thought carrying Trunks was hard! This little Saiyan Princess was physically and mentally straining her. It was becoming difficult to move around for long periods of time, she was constantly feeling worn-out and tired, and when she did get a chance for some sleep the baby decided it was time to train and keep her mother up all night. Almost as if she knew her mother was thinking about her, the baby let out a rather vicious kick, and Bulma winced with pain.

Closing her eyes, Bulma started taking deep breaths to try and calm herself and, hopefully, the baby as well. Like she had many time before, Bulma started rubbing her belly in sweeping circles, attempting to soothe her child. Using her free right hand, Bulma started to prepare her cravings snack. She took a few pickles out of the jar and placed them on the plate with her slices of pizza. As efficiently as anyone can with one hand, the president of Capsule Corporation cut the dilled vegetables into small slices and then stacked them on top of her cold pizza. Her mouth practically watering at the prospect of eating the weird concoction, Bulma sank her teeth into one of the pickle/pepperoni slices with relish.

After a few bites of her pizza, Bulma switched to the chocolate ice cream she had pulled out of the freezer. While scooping some of the diary treat into her bowl, for she truly hated eating out of the carton, the blue-haired scientist felt a stab of pain wash through her lower abdomen. Bulma had a sharp intake of breath at the sudden pain and dropped the ice cream scoop in her left hand as both her hands clutched at her lower stomach, just under the bulge of the baby. As suddenly as the pain had come, it disappeared. The mother-to-be sat still for a moment, her mind frantically trying to figure out what had just happened. That pain was definitely not just the baby kicking, but then again, maybe it was just a sudden movement on her daughter's part. The baby in her womb was a Saiyan after all; any movement she made was amplified about ten times of that of a normal baby. After waiting a few more moments to be sure the pain had been a fluke, Bulma picked up the fallen ice cream scoop and wiped up the flecks of ice cream that had gotten onto the table. Bulma closed up the container of ice cream and started eating a few bites of the cool dessert thoughtfully.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again kid: you are going to be the death of me." Bulma said directly to the swell in her stomach.

"Why would you say that?" The voice of her mate inquired from behind her. Bulma resisted the urge to spin around in her chair to glare at her husband; she truly didn't even have the energy to get into a verbal spar with Vegeta. Unbeknownst to her, Vegeta looked at his mate's back and frowned. Normally, if he snuck up on her she would throw a fit and lecture on about how it wasn't nice to sneak up on someone and scare them. Walking around to come into his mate's line of vision, Vegeta got his first good look at Bulma since early this morning when he left for training. At that time she had actually been asleep, something he knew was becoming increasingly rare for her. If she hadn't looked so pale and had dark circles under her eyes, which she had vainly tried to cover up with make-up, Vegeta would have thought her to be extremely cute. She sat perched on her seat clad in dark blue, flannel pajama bottoms, an overly large capsule corps. T-shirt, and her favorite ratty, old, white terrycloth robe. On her progressively swelling feet were fuzzy, red slippers. Her hair was slightly tousled, as though she had just rolled out of bed, which Vegeta was sure she had done.

"Bulma, what are you eating?" Vegeta finally broke the silence as his inspection of his wife brought his eyes to the food before her.

"Cold pizza, pickles, and chocolate ice cream." Bulma answered with a yawn. Vegeta's eyes narrowed in concern.

"Why are the pickles on the pizza? That's just gross. Doesn't it make it all soggy?" Vegeta continued with his interrogation. He just wanted to get Bulma talking so he could try and figure out just how beat she truly was without having to actually ask outright. Encouragingly enough, Bulma laughed at her husband's barely concealed disgust at her pizza topping.

"Normally, I would agree with you full heartedly; however, somehow being pregnant makes even dirt sound appetizing at times." The blue-haired beauty replied with a small smile. She saw the uncomprehending look in her mate's eyes and her smile broadened. "Don't try and understand it Vegeta. You can't. Just be thankful that you will never be held to the whims of crazy hormonal cravings."

"Oh, I'm victim to hormonal cravings all the time." Vegeta said with a smirk. His wife's energy seemed to be recovering slightly with the stimulation of conversation. He was interested to see how she responded to his last statement.

"Vegeta!" Bulma exclaimed in surprise, totally thrown off guard by his comment. "That is not what I meant. I wasn't talking about sex you horny monkey, I was talking strictly food." Vegeta came around to the back of her chair and leaned down.

"Sure you were," he whispered into her ear, his voice taking on a husky quality. Bulma turned her head and gave her mate a quick kiss on his lips. Now that she was starting to get more and more uncomfortable in her pregnancy, Bulma and Vegeta had taken an oath of celibacy. There was just no way sex was going to work out at this stage of her pregnancy. However, that didn't mean they still didn't take care of each other's needs. Although, Bulma knew Vegeta was just waiting for the minute he would be able to pounce on his wife again.

"I was Vegeta! And speaking of food, could you possibly get me some of mom's meatloaf from the fridge? That sounds so good." Bulma asked sweetly, while giving her mate another peck on his cheek. Vegeta straightened up and then looked down at his mate with a scowl. Lately, he had been feeling like he was her own personal servant when it came to satisfying her ridiculous cravings. More and more, she was starting to rely on him to get her the things she wanted. He'd already lost count of how many times she had woken him up in the middle of the night only to ask him to run downstairs to grab her something to eat. Luckily, everything she had ever craved was always in the house, because he'd be damned if he would be going to any stores to pick her up any food. If that were ever the case, she would just have to deal with disappointment. The Prince of all Saiyans could only be pushed so far.

Vegeta let out a low growl of annoyance as he made his way to the refrigerator. Practically throwing open the door, he found the leftovers and pulled them out. Bulma glanced over at Vegeta when she heard the clatter of the serving dish against the counter. Normally, Bulma would scold him for being so rough with the dinnerware, but right now it didn't seem to be that big of a deal. It appeared like Vegeta was going to actually reheat the meatloaf in the microwave, and Bulma raised an eyebrow. Vegeta was doing something without being asked? Wonders never ceased.

"Hey Vegeta, you don't have to warm it up. I'll eat it as it is. Just bring me a fork, could you?" Bulma asked coyly, amazed at how complacent her mate was being at the moment. Vegeta turned to look at his mate, while shutting the fridge door. He then looked to the cold meat in his hand and then back to his wife again.

"You want to eat this cold?" The Saiyan monarch said in barely concealed disgust. Meat was supposed to be warm and pliable, not cold and hard. Granted, he had eaten his fair share of raw meat during his lifetime, but it was always warm. Bulma nodded her head vigorously and then promptly took a final bite out of her pizza. Shaking his head, Vegeta retrieved a fork and set the plate down in front of his wife. Muttering a swift "thank you", the blue-haired mother-to-be sank her fork into the leftovers and began her feast. Vegeta went back to the fridge and took out a couple bottles of water before returning to the table to sit with his mate.

Seeing that the food seemed to have all of Bulma's attention and that some light coloring was coming back to his mate's face; Vegeta relaxed slightly and began to re-hydrate his overworked body. For whatever the reason, Vegeta had been on edge all day today, as though something evil hung in the air. Due to such thoughts, the last full-blooded Saiyan had pushed himself extremely hard during his last training session as though to escape from such feelings of uneasiness. In fact, because he knew he was going to be going all out, Vegeta had not even let Trunks train with him this morning. Instead, he had sent the boy on over to the Son residence to spar with mini-Kakarrot. Looking over at the clock, Vegeta saw that he had about fifteen minutes before the boy returned home for lunch at noon. Vegeta was about to ask his mate what was for lunch when a serving-bot rolled on into the kitchen carrying bag after bag of Chinese food. The smell of the cuisine quickly filled the room and the warrior's stomach growled in response.

Bulma looked up at her mate upon hearing his belly's vocalization and smirked. "Sorry, I was too tired to get the bots started on lunch, so I just decided on ordering out instead. I hope you don't mind." Bulma explained, knowing that Vegeta loved Chinese food, not that there was really a food he didn't like. "Why don't you just go on ahead and help yourself? Trunks will still have plenty when he comes in from where ever he his."

"He should be on his way home. I sent him to Kakarrot's earlier this morning." Vegeta responded in the clipped voice he used when he wanted no further discussion on a topic. However, now Bulma's curiosity was peaked. Did Vegeta and Trunks have an argument? Finally, looking closely at her mate, Bulma saw that he looked ragged. The red, loose fitting shorts that rode low on his hips were tattered around the bottom, with a huge cut down the right leg. He wasn't wearing a shirt, or if he had been it had long since been disintegrated. However, it was her mate's face that gave her room for pause. His eyes, which normally were closed off and emotionless even to this day, were downcast and truly showed his wariness. His hair was disheveled and his normal scowl was not seen on his face, just a long drawn out look adorned his perfect visage.

"Is everything ok Vegeta? You look kind of drained. And why would you send Trunks away? Are you mad at him?" Bulma inquired; her voice filled with concern. She placed her fork down and gently laid a hand down on his upper thigh as a sign of support.

"I'm not mad at the boy. He didn't do anything wrong." Vegeta snapped, angered by the fact that his mate immediately thought some falling out had occurred between the father and son. "I've just had this feeling that I can't shake, and so I wanted to train at full force today, without the boy there to interfere." Only through years of living with Vegeta could Bulma get the underlying message that her husband would never say out loud: he didn't want Trunks to inadvertently get hurt. Bulma nodded her head in understanding, patting his leg absently.

"Is that why you looked so weary: because of this feeling that you can't shake?" Bulma persisted in her questioning, not liking seeing her husband in such a state. Vegeta was about to snap at his wife and tell her it was none of her business; however, one look at the concern shining forth from her eyes stopped his harsh reply. Instead, he let his shoulders sag slightly as he let out a long sigh.

"Partially. I can't figure out what has me on edge. It's almost like something bad is going to happen but I just don't know what. The other reason why I am so "weary", as you like to put it, is because of you." Vegeta then placed his hand on top of his mate's, stopping her unintentional patting of his leg. "If you think I look bad, I'd hate to think about yourself when you look in the mirror. You look like hell." The Saiyan Prince stated simply. Bulma immediately pulled her hand out from under her mate's and attempted to stand up.

"Thanks so very much Mr. Sensitivity! I know I don't look all that great, and I'm sorry that I am so damn tired. Why don't you try carrying around a half-Saiyan baby that likes to use your stomach as its own personal Gravity Room! I believe I am entitled to be a little tired. I can't remember the last time I got a decent night's sleep. So, thanks once again for know just the right thing to say to make me feel better!" With that being said, Bulma turned to leave the kitchen. She didn't get far, for thanks to his superior speed, Vegeta blocked her escape. "Leave me alone Vegeta!" Bulma screamed, tears springing into her eyes. Suddenly, due to the agitation of her mother, the baby started to kick brutally. Bulma winced in pain and stood still, rubbing her stomach.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed when he saw the pain flash across Bulma's face. Vegeta had felt the ki of the baby rise with that volley of kicks. Bulma's pain started to subside and the ki of the baby started to settle back down. The father-to-be was about to ask Bulma if she was ok, when she let out a sudden yelp of pain and clutched her stomach. She looked as though she was about to collapse, but luckily Vegeta caught her with no problem. Picking up his mate so that she wouldn't risk falling again, the monarch looked at his mate with concern. Bulma's breathing was uneven in her pain and her eyes were shut tightly. Stroking his mate's hair, Vegeta started to carry the mother of his child up to their bedroom. Bulma opened her eyes as she felt herself being carried upstairs. Just as before, that sudden stab of pain quickly ebbed.

"Bulma, are you ok?" Vegeta finally asked the question that had been nagging him all day. "I didn't mean to get you all mad downstairs, I just wanted to let you know that I am…concerned." He said in uncertainty, still not used to using the word "concerned" in regards to another's well being. Bulma reached up a hand and cupped her lover's face; a small smile graced her face.

"I won't lie to you Vegeta. I am so tired. I'm not sure I can carry this child too much longer." Bulma stated with a twinge of fear and anxiety heard in her voice. Vegeta nodded his head as he stepped into their bedroom.

"Then perhaps you should not carry it any longer." He responded matter-of-factly. "There are procedures to extract the baby, correct?"

"There are. But Vegeta, the baby is only going into its seventh month of gestation, none of those procedures can be done now without harming or killing the child." Bulma explained in defeat.

"So? Am I supposed to let you kill yourself just to bring another brat into this world?" Vegeta asked harshly, knowing that his mate's death was not an option.

"I'm not dying Vegeta. I'm just worn out." The blue-haired beauty tried to reason.

"Then what was that downstairs? You were in so much pain you were about to collapse from it!"

"It was just the movement from the baby. Even now, this little troublemaker is stronger than I am. It always just catches me off guard when she moves. And yes, from time to time, it really, REALLY hurts." As she finished her explanation, Vegeta placed his mate down onto their unmade bed. He took off her slippers and then pulled the covers up over her. At first glance it looked as though the protective mate was going to say something to protest her statements, but Bulma cut him off. "Trust me Vegeta. There is nothing out of the ordinary. I'll call the doctor later on this afternoon and get an appointment for tomorrow. Perhaps he can suggest something to lessen the pain, and then we can talk about getting this child out of me as soon as possible, okay?" Bulma asked optimistically, hoping her idea would fly with Vegeta. She didn't need her husband getting all anxious about the pains she had been experiencing downstairs. Perhaps if she just laid here for the rest of the day the pain would subside, and then she could go to the doctor tomorrow and everything would be fine. No need to get worried senselessly.

Vegeta glared down at his mate, clearly not one hundred percent convinced that everything was ok. However, there wasn't too much more he could do. Apparently his mate was not worried about the incident that just occurred in the kitchen, and although Vegeta did not like having to admit it, he truly had no idea how hard Bulma's first pregnancy was. Perhaps she was correct and this pain and tiredness was just a consequence of carrying a half-Saiyan child. Anyway, although he despised doctors, Vegeta liked the idea that she would be seeing her physician within the next 24 hours. It never hurt to be safe.

"Fine, but you better make that call as soon as possible. For now you are to get some rest. Understand Bulma? Don't leave this bed. Watch TV, read a book, I don't care what you do, just don't get up unless you absolutely have to." Vegeta instructed strictly. He then turned to the nightstand and checked the intercom box that was resting next to her. "Trunks and I will be watching the football game for the next couple of hours. If you need anything just call for one of us. We'll be in the entertainment room." Bulma couldn't help but smile slightly at Vegeta's mothering. The whole time he was issuing his commands, Vegeta had walked over to his dresser and proceeded to pull on a clean t-shirt and shorts, leaving his wrecked ones on the carpet. Normally, Vegeta would shower; however, he was hungry, didn't want to miss the game, and knew he would probably train later on that evening.

"Yes sir!" The bed-ridden mother responded with a laugh, giving her mate a mock salute. Vegeta growled at Bulma while he applied some deodorant, clearly not liking the idea of his wife taking this situation too lightly. Upon seeing her husband's reactions, Bulma immediately became somber. "Vegeta, I promise I won't leave this bed for anything." She said very sincerely, touched by his concern. "Now go on and get some lunch, Trunks has been looking forward to watching this match-up all week."

Finally, Vegeta smirked. "Too bad his team is going to lose. The Warriors have the best defense in the league. I'll check up on you at halftime." The Saiyan Prince stated as he turned to leave the room. Heading on back downstairs he walked through the foyer and living room. He was just about to head for the kitchen when Trunks came out carrying a couple bags of the take-out Bulma had ordered earlier.

"Hey dad! This is the last of the food. I figured we could just eat it in the entertainment room while we watch pre-game analysis." Trunks explained in excitement as he guided his father to the huge entertainment room, their official spot to watch Sunday Football. It was a ritual that had evolved over the last few years when Vegeta had been introduced to the sport, and like most males on Earth, became instantly addicted. Trunks set down the last of the bags on the huge coffee table that sat in front of a large, overstuffed couch that was situated for perfect viewing of the big screen TV. Vegeta grabbed the remote and simultaneously father and son fell onto the couch and propped their feet up. The older Saiyan Prince tuned on the tube and promptly switched the channel to the game.

Since the pre-game show was on commercial, the two Saiyans turned their attention to the feast before them. Trunks started opening up the boxes of Chinese food and Vegeta prepared the utensils. Handing his heir a pair of chop sticks, each prince took their own box and began to devour its contents in silence. Both finishing in about the same time, they looked at each other, smirked, and then unceremoniously threw the empty boxes over their shoulder and on the ground behind the comfortable couch. They repeated this process until all of the food was gone and a pile of boxes littered the floor behind them.

With the father and son duo fully satisfied, they both kicked back on the couch to watch the coin toss for the game. As soon as the coin hit the ground, Vegeta felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him again as it had all day. What was wrong? Why had he been feeling this sense of dread all day long? Vegeta looked at his son, whom was eagerly waiting for kickoff. How come Trunks didn't seem to be feeling any foreboding? Shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the feeling, Vegeta attempted to focus on the game. However, he wasn't doing a very good job.

Trunks looked at his father in shock. What was wrong with him? He was staring at the screen and yet he was not reacting to anything. "Hello; Earth to Dad. Didn't you even see that? My team just had a kickoff return for a touchdown!" The sound of his son's voice brought Vegeta out of his stupor and he scowled over at his son. Great, not only was he feeling some premonition of dread, but now his team was losing. This day just sucked. "Is everything ok?" Trunks asked somewhat timidly for he knew discussing his father's feelings was usually taboo. However, this time Vegeta actually decided to confide in his son.

"No, I guess I am not ok. I'm worried about your mother, boy. She's fine at the moment, but I'm not so sure she can hold up too much longer. Plus, I've had this feeling all day, like something bad is about to happen. Have you felt anything?" Vegeta asked his son, interested to see if anyone else was picking up on the bad vibes he was experiencing.

"Well, now that you mention it," Trunks began; however, he didn't get any farther. In the middle of the lavender-haired boy's declaration, the intercom turned on and a strangled scream came through. Abruptly, the scream was cut off.

"MOM!"

"BULMA!"

The two men in Bulma's life literally flew through the house and up the stairs to the master bedroom. Both men stopped in horror upon seeing Bulma sprawled on her back, the intercom lying beside her as she must have knocked it off the nightstand. Her breathing was completely erratic, but it was clear that she was unconscious. Vegeta was the first to recover from his state of shock and rushed to his mate's side. Lifting her up, he felt a slight dampness coming from between her thighs. Upon further inspection, Vegeta realized it was some pinkish, red liquid. Calling out for his son to follow him, Vegeta kicked open the French doors that led to their balcony and flew up into the sky heading in the direction of the hospital.

So how was that for a quick update? I hope none of you are too mad with my little plot twist. I have been waiting forever to unleash it. Don't worry though, all will be explained in the next chapter. I wasn't planning on this chapter to be so long, but then once I got writing I couldn't stop! I'm sure none of you are complaining though! (I would put a little winking smiley here if it would show up on the page…oh well, I guess I don't get to be all cute.) By the way, thanks again for everyone's patience in regards to my last update. I'm so glad everyone liked the extra long chapter and I was pleasantly surprised by how many of you liked the Yamcha/Vegeta talk. I was nervous about how it would go over! Anyway, keep on reviewing. I love hearing your thoughts and it definitely keeps me motivated! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Until Next Time…