The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5402

Chapter 50: Transformations

The day following the catastrophic sparring session, Chi-Chi visited Capsule Corporation, heartily apologizing to Bulma and relaying her utmost gratitude to the other woman, for her altruistic display of heroism, in the face of death, which had ended up saving their planet, more than once. With a parting embrace, the hatchet was buried deep into the heart of the earth, never again to resurface.

Nearly a week passed by and it was the end of yet another gruelling, training session. As Bulma performed various stretches to extricate the soreness from her aching muscles, she voiced a curious thought that had been lingering in her mind, for quite a while.

"You know, something doesn't seem to add up." She noted. "Chi-Chi's been training all her life, but when we fought, I was completely dominating her, until she raised her power level. Shouldn't her technique have been far better than my own? I mean, I know she probably didn't train in a while, but even then, I didn't think she'd be so rusty."

"She's only learned one style." The Saiyan replied. "You trained under me and thanks to that simulator device, I learned how to counter the most advanced version of said style, used by Jackie Chun."

"O-Oh, I see." Bulma nodded, in understanding. A while back, Vegeta had figured out the true identity of Chun, as none other than Master Roshi, founder of the turtle school of martial arts. "That makes sense." The heiress smirked haughtily. "So what you're saying is that I owe my skills, entirely to my own genius?"

"It isn't only that." Vegeta continued, ignoring her complacent remark. "As you built the simulator, you became more and more familiar, with the turtle style of combat, yourself, since it was used by five of the tournament contestants."

"Hmm, that is true." Bulma placed a palm, underneath her chin. "Let's see, there was Master Roshi, Goku, Krillin, Yamcha and uh- Chi-Chi."


"Man, I am such a genius!" Bulma exclaimed. The Prince paid her no mind, as she continued to gloat, without the slightest shred of humility. Of course, she had every right to preen. Before he'd set foot in the gravity chamber, his power level was only experiencing small titivations, but afterwards, it was all strength galore, especially now with the simulator.

As for Bulma, she was certainly a skilled fighter and with her lithe, pliable figure, her movements were very nimble, with an almost-unpredictable edge to them, but her natural limitations would only let her reach so far. He estimated that within a year or so, her power level would reach it's peak. After that, she could retain hold over it, provided she continued training, but it wouldn't grow any further. Kakarot's wife was a different story, altogether. Her strength was already far greater than Bulma's could ever be, but he could tell that even she hadn't realized her true potential. Truth be told, he felt that if she'd received the same training as the other human-fighters, she could possibly reach their power level or close, but sadly for her, maternal duties took precedence. Nonetheless, it was no concern of his.


Around one month passed by.

'Man, what is going on with me?!' Bulma thought in dismay, as she ran to the bathroom, heaving the contents of her stomach, inside the toilet bowl and breathing hard thereafter, before closing the lid and hitting the flush button. Her recent episodes of nausea had become a real nuisance, especially when it came to her work life. After giving her hands a quick wash and rinsing her mouth, she returned to her desk, clutching her head and aimlessly sorting through the messy pile of papers thereon, all the while trying to mull over her present condition. It was almost as if she had-

"Morning sickness." A wide-eyed Bulma softly muttered to herself. Oh God, morning sickness? Did that mean she was- with child? No, it couldn't be! Ever since Vegeta had returned to Earth, she'd regularly been taking birth control pills. Is it possible that she missed a date? Or perhaps they'd romped so often that on one occasion, the pill proved ineffective. After all, there were rare cases of pregnancy, despite the use of contraceptives. Or was it possible that Saiyan sperm cells were more resilient than those of human's and as a result, the birth control wasn't quite as effective, as it should've been?

Shutting her eyes, the heiress concentrated hard. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she swore that she could feel a tiny trace of energy, inside her. Her Ki sensing abilities weren't completely developed though, so she wasn't fully certain. She decided to undergo a pregnancy test, posthaste! That in mind, she picked up the phone and rung her father's office.

"Hello Bulma dear, what's-"

"Dad, I think I'm pregnant, but I need to go and confirm with the doctor, bye." She slurred, at a hundred miles an hour, promptly hanging up and dashing out of her office, leaving her baffled father in a trance, for at least ten minutes, as the esteemed President tried to swallow that shocking newsflash.


At Capsule Corporation's medical wing, the doctor extracted a sample of blood from Bulma's median cubital vein, thereafter bandaging the needle wound opposite her elbow and sending the vial to the laboratory, to have it tested for the presence of hCG.

"Fax the results to my office, as soon as you have them, alright?"

"Sure thing, Miss Brief." Dr. Fumiko nodded.

All of a sudden, the heiress pulled the doctor into an embrace.

"Wish me luck." She muttered.

"Uh- right, g-good luck." The bewildered lady replied, awkwardly patting Bulma on the back.

A few hours later…

Bulma was sitting in her office, when the results came in. All she had to do now was break the seal and pull them out. As she picked up the envelope, she realized just how badly she was fidgeting, overwhelmed with a rush of queasiness, from head-to-toe. This was far more difficult than she'd imagined. The answers that lay within these sheets of paper could potentially alter the course of her life. What would Vegeta do, if he learned that she truly were carrying? She'd repeatedly assured him that the birth control pills would keep her from getting with child. Would he be angry? Would he blame her and repudiate their baby, before the poor, precious thing was even brought into the world? Sure, she was Bulma Brief and had never depended on anyone before, but over the last three years she spent with Vegeta that had all changed tremendously. She'd grown accustomed to his presence in her life and the very thought of losing him, plagued her heart with an excruciating sense of pain and emptiness, like no other. The heiress jumped, as the telephone rang, axing right through her dismal thoughts. Reaching her shaky hand forward, she picked it up.


"Bulma, are you alright, darling?" Dr. Brief asked. "Did you find out if you're uh- you know?"

"I- I have the papers here with me dad, but- I- I'm kind of afraid to see." She professed.

"Would you like me to come over?"

"Yeah sure, that'd be great."

"Alright, see you in five."

Bulma released a hefty sigh. With her father to keep her company, surely this whole ordeal would be much easier. Deep down, she already knew the answer, but the words inside that envelope, would make it official, leaving no further doubts. And for some reason, that sense of surety frightened her. She was at a crossroads and couldn't decide, which way to turn.

After approximately five minutes, which felt more like five hours, the good doctor reached Bulma's office and walked over to her. He placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder and she looked up at him, with a troubled countenance.

"Dad, I- I don't know what to do." She murmured dejectedly. "I- I just can't look."

"That's alright dear." The President offered her a kind, paternal smile behind his bushy lavender tash, which melted away some of her worries. "I can open it for you, if you'd like."

Bulma slowly nodded and so, the doctor grabbed the envelope and carefully broke the seal, with an Esselte letter opener, before pulling out the papers, wherein lay the answers that would alter the lives of their family. The heiress bit her lower lip, as she saw the slight bulge in her father's eyes, in spite of his obvious attempts at maintaining a well-guarded expression. That may have worked in the past, but having learned how to read through someone as stoic as Vegeta, her father's endeavours, were utterly futile.

"S-S-So d-details?" Bulma stammered, already knowing the answer to the unspoken question that should've preceded.

"Well, um- according to the results, you're at least- uh- four weeks pregnant."

"Oh." Bulma sighed, clutching her head, as the full, cumbersome weight of reality, fell upon on her.

"Don't stress yourself, Bulma." Dr. Brief gave another benign smile, moving behind her chair and massaging her trapezius muscles. "Everything will be just fine."

"I know- it's just, I- I'm not entirely sure about Vegeta." She meekly confessed. "I- I don't know how he's gonna take the news. Neither of us were expecting this."

"Don't fret, my dear." The doctor said reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll be delighted."

"Dad, you don't know Vegeta like I do." She frowned, her face downcast. "He's not ready for this, especially with the whole Android threat, on the horizon. I'm not sure I am either. I- I just- I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Well, first thing we're going to do is grab a nice, hot meal." Dr. Brief beamed, whereby the heiress smacked her forehead. Sometimes, she just couldn't understand the peculiar old man.

A short while later, Bulma was picking at her food, her free hand beneath her chin, as she stared at it, with a clouded expression. The blue-haired scientist's clashing thoughts raced between Vegeta, the Androids, her duties as Vice-President, her training and most of all, the teensy little life form, dwelling deep inside the warmth of her womb.

"You know, I wouldn't worry too much about Vegeta, if I were you." The doctor said, after munching through a spicy, steamed chicken and prawn, dumpling. "I mean, sure, he may be a little startled at first, but he'll come around eventually."

"How do you know that?" Bulma scoffed.

"I'll admit, I don't know the boy nearly as well as you do and he certainly has his fair share of flaws." Dr. Brief replied, before looking her squarely in the eyes, his expression solemn. "But there's one thing I can guarantee. He'd never hurt you."

Bulma's eyes momentarily widened, just a fraction.

"I- I guess not." She mumbled, smiling a little, in spite of herself. Yes, her father was certainly right and just hearing the words from him, made her feel so much better. Some of her friends still didn't consider Vegeta as part of their clique, but she was glad that her old man, was more accepting. She placed a hand upon her midriff, still as lean as ever. 'Yeah, you've got nothing to worry about, little one.' Her smile grew.

After chowing down, Dr. Brief drew his daughter into a tight embrace.

"Congratulations Bulma." He said, rubbing her back, up and down. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks dad." She twinkled. All would be well.


Not surprisingly, Mrs. Brief showered Bulma with a cornucopia of hugs and kisses.

"Oh, my beautiful little baby's gonna have a baby of her own!" The rambunctious woman squealed, as she clasped her daughter's cheeks, in a somewhat unpleasant pinch, dreamily staring up at the ceiling. "I can't believe it! I finally get to be a grandmother! Oh, but I still look so young and-"

"Mom, can you let go of my cheeks?"

"No." Panchy replied. "Now where was I? Oh yes, me, a grandmother! How I've waited for this moment. A baby! It's absolutely wonderful! I bet he'll grow up to be as tall as Goku and as handsome as Vegeta."

"How do you nyow issh a he?" The heiress asked, through squeezed cheeks (translation: how do you know it's a he?).

"Oh believe me, I can tell." The flaxen-haired female winked. "It's gonna be a beautiful little boy and I bet all the girls will be jumping over each other, for a chance to canoodle with him teeheehee."

Bulma sweat-dropped. How utterly dense and single-minded could someone get?

With an exhaustive amount of effort, the heiress was able to convince her ditzy mother to keep the information to herself, wanting to maintain a low profile, so that she could, at least, take a while to adjust and come to terms with it, herself. Now, of course, came the most difficult part: telling Vegeta.

As the sky darkened, the Prince exited the gravity chamber, heading indoors to grab a quick dinner. Halfway there, however, he caught sight of an overwrought Bulma, traipsing his way. He raised a curious brow, at the unsettled look, about her.

"You look like you just saw the grim reaper." Vegeta remarked wryly.

"Uh yeah, nice to see you too hehe." Bulma let out a forced laugh, avoiding the imposing Saiyan's dark eyes. Half a minute of uncomfortable silence, followed, before Vegeta broke it.

"Spit it out, already." He rolled his eyes.

"A-Alright, b-but promise you won't b-be mad, okay?" She asked, timidly looking him in the eye.

"Grr, just tell me!" He growled impatiently, causing her to jump.

Bulma shook her head. Why was she even bothering? As if she'd ever get any such promise out of him.

"W-Well, um- it's hard to say." The subdued blue-haired woman finally replied, letting out a sigh and hesitantly placing a hand on her womb, before giving Vegeta a few brief glances.

The Prince frowned, trying to figure her out, until his senses suddenly caught on something that made his mind click. He gaped at the beautiful inventress, as though she were Nappa's ghost, instantly doing a double take. His ebony eyes slowly shifted towards her belly, wherein he sensed a faint Ki signal, before returning to her. An unborn Saiyan child grew inside her and it was- his child. He took a step back, all the while staring at her, in complete horror.

The incredulous, disconcerted look Vegeta was giving her, only made Bulma feel that much more uncomfortable. Other than the obvious shock and deliberation, she couldn't read into him. Several strained seconds passed by, with nothing said between them, till the heiress took a chance and boldly decided to move towards him. Before she could take a step however, Vegeta suddenly flew off, without a word, leaving behind a shocked and appalled Bulma.


Mere minutes later, the baffled Prince stood in the heart of a stark, sweeping desert, lost in a tumultuous series of clashing thoughts, each one like a billowing wave that inexorably perforated it's way through any sense of calm and quiet, within his jumbled mind. He was unable to soak in the reality of it all, crushing the evening blue granules of sand, beneath his boots, amidst the deafening silence.

A father? Him? How had it come to this? That damned woman assured him that it wouldn't! Had she deceived him? Or perhaps she'd erred, somehow? He tightened his fist, a vein throbbing, by his temple. This planet had already transformed him, there was no denying that. Before he'd come to Earth, he never would've imagined that sharing the warmth of a single woman's bedside, could be so much more fulfilling than reigning over a vast network of solar systems and that inciting her tempestuous wrath, deluged him with a far more vivid rush of frenzy than slaughtering civilizations, one after another. But most of all, he never imagined that bizarre, outlandish feeling of peace and contentment that overcame him, every time he made her smile. That warm smile would light his cold, darkened soul, every time he looked upon it. Bulma was the rope, which tied him to this planet and now, with his child inside her, the knots on that rope had become undoable.

What was he supposed to do, with a pint-sized weanling? He could prepare himself for many things, but being a father was definitely not on the list. He didn't know the first thing about it and he certainly didn't need any distractions. Curse that woman! A year and a half later, those Androids would allegedly make themselves known and now, of all times, she had to throw this little monkey wrench into the mix.

'Tch, more like half-monkey.' He thought, drolly, before grinding his palm against his forehead and glancing up into the sky. The Prince suddenly frowned, as he caught sight of the moon. Oh shit, he'd forgotten that it was a full moon today! His eyes widened in realization. A few months ago, Kami had wished the moon back, since Piccolo destroyed it, in the prelude to the Saiyan invasion. After consulting Goku, the Namekian deity deemed it safe to restore it, since Vegeta was the only Saiyan left, with a tail and he had control over his animal form.

The trigger was set and a rush of primal energy poured along the Prince's bloodstream, his eyes glowing a deathly crimson and fangs lengthening, as he began to grow bigger. Rich, pecan fur sprouted all over his expanding, burly figure and the lower half of his face projected outwards, into a sharp muzzle. Vegeta bellowed aloud, as he reached his full height, promptly hammering his fist down into the sand and completely disintegrating large portions of it.

It'd been over three years since he'd transformed into the Oozaru, yet he quickly re-acquired control over it and stood straight, promptly looking over himself. His upper body was uncovered, but he still donned his lycra pants and boots, which had easily stretched to accomodate his surging size. Clenching and unclenching his fist, the Prince shot a practice punch into the air, followed by another. Unable to return to Capsule Corporation in such a state, he decided to engage in some unorthodox training, going all out, as he pulverized a range of dunes and rock formations, with both his fist and Ki, alike.

Many hours later, the Saiyan lay in the sand, a fatigued mess, back in base form. He'd never had a chance to train as a giant ape before and somehow, it really helped alleviate some of the stress and tension, allowing him to see things, with a clearer mindset.

A half-Saiyan child. When he'd heard about it the very first time, the idea revolted him, more than anything else, but that had changed fast during the battle on Earth. After witnessing the fighting prowess and sheer tenacity of Kakarot's offspring, he'd gone so far as to offer the boy a chance to join ranks with him (A/N: Refer to Chapter 1). Ever since then, he'd witnessed Gohan evolve greatly, as a warrior, standing up against the Ginyu Force, Frieza and even himself. He really had to hand it to the boy. Such recollections helped him come to a decision, regarding his own unborn half-breed.

But first, there was something he needed to do: fully master the Oozaru transformation. Somehow, he could still feel the vestigial powers from that form, flowing through his veins, as was never the case before. Perhaps he could attribute such an irregular occurrence to the monumental heights he'd reached, in terms of skill, strength and control. He was convinced that if he worked hard enough, he could gain access to all the Oozaru powers, without the need to transform into one and in doing so, offset Kakarot's advantage of the Kaio-Ken attack. True, he could always create blutz waves on his own accord, but the sheer size of his ape form, put him at a disadvantage. And yes, there was the Super Saiyan transformation that practically negated all of that anyway, but why not have something extra up his sleeve and save the best, for last?

This would certainly take a lot of practice, but it would be well worth it. Before that, however, he could really use a meal. The Prince forced himself up and zoomed off to the closest non-sentient Ki signals he could find. He spotted a pair of grazing, dama gazelle and approximately half an-hour later, the ungulate duo were tucked away into the vast pits of his sated stomach. Now, it was time to commence.


It had been approximately one week, since Vegeta left Capsule Corporation and Bulma didn't know where he was. She considered asking Goku for help, but that would only lead to further inquisition from her rustic, dimwitted best friend and she didn't want to reveal the existence of her baby to anyone, just yet. Her mother ardently insisted that Vegeta was most likely blowing off some steam and would be back soon, but the heiress wasn't quite so sure and that sense of uncertainty was really eating at her. Was he having a string of dalliances, behind her back? She swore if that were the case, she'd personally spill his guts, all over the gravity room.

'Come on Bulma, he's not like that.' The blue-haired scientist mentally reassured herself. 'Quit overreacting.'

The last person that had flirted with Vegeta was Cassandra, a gorgeous young intern at Capsule Corporation, in her early twenties. The Prince had almost killed that woman, for her sordidly obtrusive behaviour, till Bulma intervened. Though her life was still intact, the heiress immediately ordered Cassandra to leave the company, threatening to file a complaint to her University, for workplace misconduct.

Rolling her eyes at the memory, Bulma's thoughts soon returned to Vegeta's current whereabouts. Where was he and what was he doing? He couldn't possibly be training, because the gravity room and simulator were still here and she hadn't sensed his Ki on the premises, ever since he'd flitted. Damn that nasty Saiyan, for leaving her in the dark like this!


Later on in the night, Bulma hit the shower. The moment she exited the bathroom, she gaped at the familiar, flame-haired figure, nonchalantly sitting on her bed, wearing the same tattered blue pants, caked with dirt, no shirt and that trademark poker face of his. Blinking a few times, the heiress' shocked expression instantly morphed into one of rage. She hurled a plethora of curses at Vegeta, furiously demanding an explanation for his shady behaviour. As she was finally done, Vegeta puckered his brows at her and articulated his reply.

"When a Saiyan learns that his woman is with child, he's forbidden to see her or speak to her, for at least seven days." He elucidated calmly. "It was a sacred tradition, on my home planet."

Bulma's demeanor instantly transformed at his reply, a light blush tinting her cheeks and her heart skittering. So that was it. That explained everything. She'd been fretting all this time, for absolutely no reason and should've known better. As if Vegeta would ever abandon her. He was merely preserving the last remnants of his nigh-extinct culture and she could most certainly respect that. In fact, it only made her adoration towards him, swell further, since he included her, as a part of that culture. His woman. Yes, that certainly made her feel like something special.

"Wow, I never knew that, Vegeta." She looked at him, with an endearing smile. "It sounds really beautiful."

Unable to hold it in any longer, the Prince abruptly burst into a boisterous fit of laughter, clutching his stomach all the while.

"What's so funny?" Bulma asked, suddenly feeling a little mortified and suspicious.

"Oh God, I can't believe you actually fell for that." He chortled, like a maniac. "Sacred Saiyan tradition? Oh please. Don't tell me you seriously bought that crap."

Face flushed a hundred shades of crimson, Bulma was plagued with utter humiliation, like never before, her teeth grit and several veins throbbing near her temple. She shut her eyes and clenched a fist, her thunderous fury mounting to new heights. That bastard! First he leaves her for an entire week, like a total jerk and now, he returns, only to make a complete idiot out of her! How dare he?! He had absolutely no right! She lunged at him and before she knew it, their royal rumble transformed into a torrid tryst.

Twenty minutes later...

"So why did you leave anyway?" Bulma spat, as she lay naked beside him, looking up at the ceiling, with a scowl on her face. "What were you doing, all that time?"

"I was mastering a new form." He answered, ignoring her first question.

"So, what now?" She asked, rather spitefully. "Are you gonna leave me, again? If you are, then don't bother coming back. I don't like being made a fool of, you fucking asshole!"

Vegeta chuckled. She'd embarrassed him on quite a few occasions, so giving her a taste of her own medicine, felt somewhat pleasant.

"Well?!" The heiress irately prodded.

"Hm." The Saiyan looked at her, eyes narrowed and expression grave. "You will raise the child on your own and once it's three years old, I'll begin it's training."

Bulma stared back at him, in surprise. That wasn't what she expected. Nonetheless, she found his proposal to be rather one-sided.

"What do you mean, on my own?" She frowned. "Aren't you gonna do anything with the baby, besides training? Honestly, I'm not expecting you to change nappies or anything. God knows that'll never happen, but still."

"But nothing." He riposted. "I've made my decision. In case you forgot, it won't be very long, before the Androids are at our doorstep, so I don't have time to play house with your brat."

"Firstly, it's not a brat you jerk." She punched him in the arm. "Secondly, it's not just mine, it's yours too and thirdly, you made time to train me, so why can't you make some for the kid?"

"Training you was essential, because you were too weak to defend yourself, before." He replied. "I'll do the same thing for the brat, but don't expect anything else."

"It's a baby, not a brat, so stop calling it that!" She punched him again, this time earning an indignant growl. Bulma laughed, in spite of herself, realizing that she'd inadvertently just busted out a neat little rhyme. "Besides, I think three years is a little too young for training, don't you?"


"Dammit, you're impossible!" The heiress loured.

Eventually, the argument settled down and the pair lay together, putting aside their differences, for the moment. Perhaps Vegeta did have a point. It was paramount to their survival that he and Goku defeat the Androids and in order to do that, they both had to devote their time and efforts to training. Once that was all over though, she wouldn't allow any neglectful behaviour on his part. This baby needed it's father and it certainly wouldn't be doing any training at the age of three. But she decided she'd have to cross that bridge, at a later stage. After all, there was plenty of time between then and now and perhaps he'd wise up, eventually.

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