Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Bad Decisions ❯ Welcome Back, I Guess... ( Chapter 8 )

Yamcha felt like shit. He had to stay in the hospital for 2 weeks after he woke up, for tests and observations. He felt fine, he assured them, but they never listened. He received frequent visits from Bulma, her family, and their friends.

He still blamed himself for everything that had happened in the past week and a half. He should have never gone on that last binge. He should have gone straight home and called up AA, but no, he had given in. Vegeta was right. He was a weakling, not fit for Bulma. Bulma deserved so much better than what he had given her. Cheating, lies, denial, alcoholism. She had put up with so much of it. He was responsible for her pain for the last 2 years. He was truly sorry, but couldn't bring himself to admit it to her. After he had done all that to her, she still found the courage, strength, and trust to sign all the papers she had to. She signed her name to his care so many times that they considered her his significant other, when the truth was she was now no closer to him than Puar. But Bulma would always hold a very special place in his heart.

She forgave him. For some stupid reason, she forgave him of all he had put her through. The fact that she had stayed with him through the first 48 hours of it was a testimony to her strength of character. He was unworthy of this woman, no, this angel.

2 weeks still felt like an eternity. He was finally discharged from the damnable room he shared with a former crack addict. This guy had it bad, delirium tremens so terrible; his heart must have stopped 3 times in the 2 weeks he was there. He sighed as Krillin wheeled him out of the hospital, Bulma closely in tow. He felt weak from lack of training and good food. Bulma thanked Dr. Kleegar one last time before turning to the car to open the door. Puar came flying out of the car and grabbed Yamcha's face. After prying the cat-thing off his face, Yamcha stepped into the car and they headed home.

Bulma sensed a strange vibe coming from Yamcha. He was silent, tired looking, and almost sad. He had only smirked a bit when he saw Puar. She felt so bad for him; of course, he had had a lot of time to think about things. She wondered if he was still planning on joining AA or if that had gone out the window. He hadn't had a drop to drink in 2 weeks now, and she hoped he would keep it up. But it was his choice; she could not make it for him. She could only pray and support him and all that he did.

As they drove home in an awkward silence blanketed only by the soft humming of the radio, Bulma grew a bit angrier at each passing mile. She wanted to know what Yamcha had to say for his actions. He had placed her in a delicate situation and she just wanted to be home, in her lab, away from the horrible reality that was her life. She wanted to yell at him, to curse and scream in his face until she couldn't breath anymore. She wanted to wring his neck for putting her in such trauma and to bash his head in for going on that 'last binge.' A part of her wanted to see him sprawled on the floor in a pool of his own blood, but she knew it would never come to that. She still loved him.

Vegeta trained constantly, for days, only coming out to eat, sleep, and make love to Bulma. He felt as if Yamcha were constantly watching him from the shadows, wherever he went. He knew that Yamcha had blamed him for his last binge. He knew that as soon as Yamcha would see him, he would try and retaliate.

It was all Vegeta's fault. As he rode in the car, watching the scenery flip past, it was all Yamcha could think of. All his hours of thought had finally settled on this one result. Vegeta had shown up and made himself out to be this strong, macho guy. He had moved into Capsule knowing full well that Bulma would be unable to keep away from him. He had decided to destroy their relationship long ago, as soon as he had lain eyes on Bulma, why else would he have tried to kill everyone close to her? He wanted to take her back to wherever the hell he came from and have her as his. When they defeated Frieza, his home had been demolished, he had no where to go. Acting as a lost puppy, he had convinced Bulma to let him move in.

They pulled into the driveway at Capsule for lunch. They walked in and Vegeta was sitting on the floor in the living room, meditating. Yamcha lowered his eyes when he saw him. Here was the reason for all his pain, sitting on the rug in the living room, trying to reach peace. If Yamcha couldn't reach it, why should he allow him to? Bulma and Krillin headed for the kitchen, assuming Yamcha was still following them, but he hung back. He stared at Vegeta, furrowing his brow.

"Well, Mr. Big Shit, how do you feel today, huh? You proud of yourself? You drove me to that last drink, you know. It's all your fault."

"You don't know what you're saying. Are you sure you didn't stop off for a drink before coming here?"

Yamcha scoffed. "That was low, Vegeta, even for you." He walked towards the saiyan prince, still sitting there, eyes closed. He circled him. "So, princy, you never answered me. Are you proud of yourself?"

"Aren't I allowed to be? I have almost reached super Saiya-Jin, I'm well fed, and I have a beautiful woman. Why shouldn't I be proud?"

"Because you stole that woman from me!"

"You lost her Yamcha. As soon as you hit her, you lost her. She has found a new man, a more respectable, stronger man. Stronger than you can even imagine."

"Yeah, that's just 'cause you're an alien freak. If you were a human, I would take you like that." He snapped his fingers. Vegeta's eyes popped open. Yamcha pulled his hand back and brought it crashing down at Vegeta's face. He stopped it an inch in front of his face by grabbing his wrist. Looking up, he stood.

"Human, I suggest you get over your jealousy. It was your choice to get drunk, it was your choice to hit her, and it was your choice to go drinking again after you said you'd get help. I had nothing to do with your misery. So I suggest you leave me out of thins dilemma of yours." He let Yamcha's hand fall and he went up the stairs, leaving him alone in the living room, staring at the floor with a forlorn look on his face. He was right. The damn alien was right. It was his fault. Yamcha felt very alone suddenly. He hadn't noticed when Bulma called his name to tell him lunch was ready. He snapped out of it when Krillin waved his hand in front of his face.

"Uh, you okay, Yamcha?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." With that, he made a solemn, silent vow to himself. He would never touch another drop of alcohol, ever again.