Trapped in the Past, Chapter 08

Summary : Realizations are good… but when the person shows up a week later well… things get awkward. M!TxGh

Authors’ Notes: The Mpreg label is an optional point to the story, I shall warn beforehand if it is not your thing.

Thoughts
//Flashback//
.+++. <-Time/scene skip
.xxx. <-Perspective/Time(Backwards or forwards) change

*****

Gohan’s eyes widened at Mirai’s words. What had he done? Dende… Mirai thinks he did something, he didn’t truly buy the Cell Game haunt! Gohan forced on a small smile and placed his hands atop Mirai’s. “Mirai… you did nothing.”

“Bullshit!” Mirai said and tightened his hold on the linen cloth. “Tell me Gohan! Tell me what I did wrong! I–” Gohan froze. Did… Did Trunks’ voice just crack? “I don’t want you to be in pain any longer.”

Gohan’s heart swelled and he couldn’t stop his hand as it cupped Mirai’s cheek. “Trunks…” He whispered. The only thing he could think the other was guilty of was treating him like the future Gohan, and Gohan couldn’t blame him of that – nor was that the cause of his nightmares. “You are innocent of what plagues me.”

Mirai didn’t react like Gohan thought he would. Instead of understanding his mistake, Mirai slapped Gohan’s hand away. “Then why?” Electricity sparked as lavender hair defied gravity and changed yellow. “Why did this start after we met two week ago!” The power of a Super Saiyajin 2 radiated off of Mirai and Gohan wisely backed up and changed his attire to a blue-violet gi. (He had Bulma put that in there one Vegeta started challenging him nonstop) “Why did it start after I left!”

So somebody filled him in. Gohan thought with a sigh. He really couldn’t deal with this today. Last night was a bad night. “It wasn’t something you did Trunks!”

“You’re so full of shit!”

Gohan froze and stared at Mirai with horrified eyes. He didn’t hear the next line, but at the punch he supposed it was something about beating it out of him. However, Gohan wasn’t in the mood to care, because in his mind came the guilt, came the words it’s all your fault, you killed them!. Yes, he deserved every blow, every hit. This pain – it would never compare to the pain he inflicted on Trunks when he let Cell kill him.

Wet drops on his bare shoulder registered and halted Gohan’s downward spiral. He just noticed that the blows had stopped and there were sobs.

“Go-han… I lost him – twice – I – I can’t lose you too…”

The black-haired half-Saiyajin was torn at the jealousy and the touching emotion that threatened at his chest. Taking Mirai by the shoulders, Gohan looked at the puffy aqua eyes. “Trunks you won’t lose me, but if… if you want to help can you stop comparing Him – the future Gohan – to me? It would lessen the excess baggage.”

The aqua-tinted eyes blinked through tears. “G-Gohan… I’m sorry…”

“Shh…” Gohan said and didn’t resist the urge to hold the prince. Arms wrapped tightly around torso and biceps while he inhaled the pure scent of Trunks, feeling immediately relaxed. Right now, all that mattered was that he had Mirai no Trunks in his arms.

The sob slowly died down as Mirai reverted back down to his non Super Saiyajin state and Gohan let his hand weave through the descending lavender locks.

“Why… why won’t you tell me Gohan? Why won’t you let me help you? It should be me comforting you, not this.” Mirai said as he let his own hand cup Gohan’s cheek.

Gohan leaned into the inviting touch. It warmed his heart, it released his tension. Then, Gohan remembered. He could not accept this from Trunks – Mirai – he could not cause his friend anymore pain, he could not deserve this. Gently, he moved his hand to Mirai’s and took it off his cheek. “Because, Mirai, I cannot tell anybody, not even Piccolo. It is… something that cannot be told to those too close to the problem. It’s just something that I must deal with.”

Mirai clenched his fists and looked away. “So, what am I then? If I’m not the problem, I am close to it? Yet, it deals with me Gohan – it has to. If I didn’t come back, if I just died with the rest of my universe, you wouldn’t be in pain…”

“Dear Dende! You don’t really think that, do you Trunks? If you died – what I feel now would be nothing compared to the knowledge of your death.” I would travel to Namek and bring you here if that happened, since it’s my fault that you cannot be resurrected by Earth’s dragon balls. Gohan thought guiltily. He couldn’t believe Mirai thought that it was his fault for Gohan’s guilt. Sure, when Mirai returned, it reminded him of it, but then again, looking at Chibi Trunks occasionally gave him nightmare because of the lavender hair, the blue eyes… it was Trunks and yet the boy was not.

Emotional eyes looked straight into Gohan’s black ones. “What am I Gohan? I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me!”

Gohan tore apart their gaze and looked to the ground on his left. “I – I… look Mirai, I do trust you, but… but… I’m sorry.” With a burst of his ki, Gohan took off. Not towards school, not home, not even Kami’s lookout. No, where he went was where Piccolo dropped him off all those many years ago, when he was just a boy a four. There, he learned many things – of true hunger, thirst, loneliness, survival, and fighting. Yet, it was not all bad because there, Gohan learned a new appreciation for nature, he learned that Piccolo was not as bad as he seemed, and he learned of friendship. Without Piccolo, Gohan would be dead, he would be weak, he could not be who he was today. The Namekseijin began something that had come to fruition two years ago. It was a gift, a blessing in disguise, and once misused. But Gohan learned and he will never make that mistake again, he will never put another living being in danger because of his stupidity again, he will never hurt Mirai again – no matter what it cost him.

 

.+++.

 

Gohan’s eyes shot open as he sat up, reaching for something that only he could see. With a sigh, Gohan ran his hands through his hair. Another nightmare. At least now, Gohan didn’t have classes. Today was Saturday. He glanced to the side and saw that it was just after five in the morning. At least I got to sleep through most of the night… The Son thought as he walked over to the closet. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It needed to stop, but from his prior afflictions, the best cure was to avoid everything and anything that reminded him of his father, of Mirai, and of Cell until they stopped. Yet, here was Mirai himself in every one of his classes and accompanying him home, here was the daughter of the supposed eliminator of Cell as well, here was his father, his father’s look-a-like, his mother in his own home. There was nothing Gohan could do! He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t avoid, and mediation only did so much.

As the half-Saiyajin opened the closet, a box came tumbling down, and reflexes acted as he caught it almost immediately. Gohan’s eyes widened as he realized that the box he had in his arms was his most prized and secretive possession. He held it close to his chest and heaved a relieved sigh. It was safe.

Cautiously, Gohan carried it over to his bed, and even though he knew that everything would be fine, he just had to check. He opened the lid and saw the disorder of the objects inside. Quickly, he organized and as he grabbed the bag containing the jacket and he felt the Capsule Corporation logo beneath, another unbidden memory flashed.

//The jacket was big, it was loose, but the denim felt comfortable against his skin and he could roll up the sleeves anyway. “You’re big Trunks.” Gohan observed as he shook a sleeve and it dangled past his longest finger.

Trunks laughed. “Well I am eighteen you know, eight years older than you.”

“Nope!” Gohan said with a smile. “You’d be nine years older than me – you spent two years in the time chamber while I’m eleven now due to my time in there.”

Trunks was sitting on a rock and watching Gohan with a smile. One of his legs was brought up and his arm rest on the knee while he leaned against his hand. “I guess I am. Man, so I’ve hit two decades huh? I’m such an old man!”

Gohan laughed. “You’re not an old man! Master Roshi’s the old man – and a dirty one at that.” He joined Trunks on the rock and leaned against the older man. He didn’t know why he did it, but it just felt right. One of his arms crossed his chest and he caressed the symbol sewn into the fabric on the shoulder. He wondered why he could feel so at peace when a battle that decided the fate of the world was just four days away. However, that worry faded once Trunks’ arm wrapped around Gohan’s back to caress the twin symbol on the opposing shoulder. Yes, life was good.//

Gohan let out a quiet sigh – he was doing that too much lately – and traced the logo through the plastic. If only he could return to that blissful ignorance again, be able to just follow his heart and not worry about the ramifications. He wanted Trunks – Mirai – to hold him like that again, he wanted that moment from yesterday yet he stopped it. Why? Mirai loved his other self, could possibly still love him. Gohan could not act like the other, he could not allow his emotions to cloud his judgements and guide his actions. All that Mirai needed was a reminder of the man he could never have in life, and now not even in death. Gohan remembered how Mirai looked when he said I lost him twice, remembered the sorrowful emotions in those blue depths.

What had hurt the most were the words that followed. Although Gohan was willing to give life and limb to his saviour, he would never allow himself to be his future’s substitute, and if that meant he could never have Mirai, then he could never have Mirai. The Son lifted the bagged jacket and brought it to his chest in a hug. He still had the jacket and all that surrounded it.

His door opened.

Gohan startled and his eyes met blue ones that were wandering before freezing and widening in shock.

“Gohan… is that–”

In less than a second, Gohan had the box and bag behind him and under his covers. Still, the damage was done. Mirai saw, he saw Gohan’s treasure, he saw Gohan’s secret. Nothing else mattered – their fight, why Mirai was at his house at five in the morning, that he was only in his pyjama pants – only the shock and shame at Gohan’s secret being discovered.

Mirai sat down on his bed with a soft smile on his face as he removed the covers. “You kept it?” His tone was not one of ridicule, disgust or humour, but one of awe. “After all these years, you still kept it?” His hands sifted through the contents. “The box, the paper, the ribbon, the tag… and are these my hair ties? Gohan I can’t believe–” Mirai said as he reached out for Gohan’s face.

Gohan turned his head away and blocked the incoming hand with his arm. “How utterly idiotic and childish I am?” He spat out. He knew he sounded harsh, but he could not get his hopes up. Sooner or later, Mirai will laugh at him, call him silly and obsessive, perhaps even be creeped out by it.

“Well.” Mirai said as his fingers trailed up Gohan’s arm. “I was going to say you kept it, but now that you mention it, I do agree with you.” The fingers danced up, past the shoulder and along the neck (making Gohan shudder) before cupping Gohan’s cheek. Here, Mirai leaned in. “Do you really think that I would demean you for treasuring the gift I gave you? For keeping it in such good condition? How could I?”

Gohan turned away from the warm hand and heated gaze. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Mirai turned his head to meet Gohan’s gaze. “It shows how much you value my gift.”

Gohan’s chest was clenching, his pulse increasing. After his dream, and his memory, all that he needed was Mirai’s proximity, his affections which were aimed at another person – one that no longer exists. The Son squirmed. “Could we take this outside?” He asked quietly. Mirai was in his room, Gohan was half dressed and they were all but embracing on his bed.

The all but was scratched out as Mirai pulled Gohan against his chest. “And give you the opportunity to fly off again? I think not.”

Gohan stopped his gasp but couldn’t stop freezing. Having Mirai’s arms around him was better than the illusion the jacket gave him, better then the faint scent that barely reached his nose. Before he did anything stupid, foolish, and harmful, he whispered – pleaded. “P-Please Trunks. What if somebody comes, somebody overhears? I promise I won’t run away.”

Gohan felt Mirai’s gaze on him, but he couldn’t bear to meet it. Then, the arms were removed but he didn’t move and after a moment, Mirai grabbed his hand. The grip was death-like, and Gohan did not dwell too long on that. Instead, he covered Mirai’s gift with his covers and opened his window. After flying through it, he pulled Mirai along. He then guided them over to a cave behind a waterfall – a place where he often went when he sought solace. The cool morning spray of the water felt good, it cooled down his raging emotions, but it did nothing for his longing.

Mirai had followed silently, and after a few moments of sitting in the cave, his hand moved and laced their fingers together. His other hand cupped Gohan’s face.

And, still, Gohan didn’t move. He wanted this, and yet, he couldn’t accept this, he couldn’t allow this. He had hurt Mirai too badly, he wasn’t the person that Mirai wanted so, as Mirai leaned down, Gohan turned his head and he put a hand up to stop Mirai from proceeding. “No…” Dende, that was so hard… he wanted Mirai, but he couldn’t have him. He was not the Gohan who stole Mirai’s heart.

“Why?” Mirai whispered, pain overriding the curiosity in his voice.

Don’t ask me Trunks! Don’t push me farther than I can go. Yet, Gohan didn’t voice his thoughts. All he said was, “I can’t.”

Mirai’s thumb glided along Gohan’s cheekbone as he spoke. “Gohan…”

The urge to run away came again. He couldn’t let his emotions grab him again, he couldn’t let his logic slip again. He couldn’t hurt Mirai by pretending that he was somebody else. He was the Gohan with a father, the Gohan with a little brother, the Gohan who saved Earth. He was not the one who lost his father, the one who lost everybody he loved, the one who died saving Mirai. He was the one who killed Mirai.

Mirai let out a sigh and he took his hand out of Gohan’s but replaced it with his opposing hand. Then, the lavender-haired prince wrapped an arm around Gohan’s shoulders and pulled the other half-Saiyajin closer. The hand holding Gohan’s tightened its grip. “What’s stopping you?”

The question was left open, so wide open. And even though Gohan managed to not reciprocate the nostalgic embrace, he still could not have lied. He could not say that he lacked the emotional ties. Lying was something that he was horrible at, but he hated lying anyway. Yet, how could he tell the truth, how could he say to Mirai, I’m not your Gohan? Those four words held so many meanings in them. It said he liked Mirai, but he couldn’t, it said he was jealous of his alternate self, it said he knew of Mirai’s emotions, and it also said he didn’t think Mirai liked him for who he was. It would hurt Mirai.

“Is it what gives you nightmares? Is that why Gohan?” Mirai prompted at Gohan’s silence.

How could he respond to that? On one hand it was, yet on the other, on the one hand that really mattered, it wasn’t. “In… a way.” He said, unable to elaborate. Only now, did their former disagreement come to light.

“Why? Why can’t you tell me Gohan? I’m here for you, I’ll always listen! I won’t judge! You said you trust me, but how much? Do you not trust me enough for something this painful, this important?” Mirai’s voice was strained. “What did I–”

Gohan’s eye widened as he turned to gaze into the emotional blue eyes. “It’s nothing you did! I–I––” Gohan gasped before he slapped his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t, he couldn’t!

“Gohan? What – What are you saying?” Mirai said, looking shocked. “Are you saying you did something?”

Pure terror reached Gohan’s features as he shook his head repetitively. Mirai needed to stop, he couldn’t find out, he couldn’t be left to think about it! Gohan needed to distract him. Anything was better than this! “I can’t because I’m not Him! I’m not your Gohan!”

Dende! What did he just say?!

It took a moment for Mirai to compute the information Gohan just said, before his eyes widened. “Kami… Gohan. You… you think that…” Mirai gave a soft smile before he leaned down to kiss Gohan’s forehead. “I know that already Gohan. I know that you’re not him. You’d never do that to me.” Mirai trailed off, sorrow and pain touching his features.

A blank expression. Do what? Did the future me do something?

“He was a person too, Gohan, he was not perfect like I painted him out to be. While his death was in attempt to save the world, I will never find it heroic. Not after what he told me anyway.” Mirai voice was filled with so much sadness. Gohan could hear the heartbreak.

After he told Mirai? Gohan thought before he remembered where he saw this expression before, where he heard this tone before. It was when they were discussing first kisses. Dende… No!

“It took me years to finally understand, but that was because I put him on a pedestal. I was blind to anything that tarnished his perfect memory. But, when I died, when Cell killed me, he found me, and then I knew. Whatever polish I put on the outside never really mattered if it was rotten on the inside. Let me tell you…”

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