*****

Gohan was sitting by a fast rushing stream he had grown up fishing in with his father. He stared at the cool, babbling brook’s churning waters, and shimmering rocks, trying to find the peace which had eluded him for several months. He knew it was futile but he still tried. He was here to make a decision about the future and he couldn’t afford the fog which kept interfering with his judgment.

During the rainy season, the now small brook would overflow it’s banks, battling the granite ravine walls that stood at least thirty to forty feet back from the current flow of the mellow singing water. The now tranquil scene would become a holocaust of fury as the water swept through the steep channel, fighting for liberty, howling it’s rage at being contained to the iron grey sky above.

Gohan brooded on the mental image, thinking that if it had been winter rainy season, instead of the bright warm summer, the water would readily have perfectly echoed his own tattered emotional state.

He had been training Trunks for several months now, only his growing attachment to the younger demi-Saiyajin was leading him well beyond the fondness of a big brother, or the companionship of a best friend. Gohan feared he might get Trunks hurt, maimed, or killed if he couldn’t gain control of his unruly heart, and wayward thoughts. He was deeply afraid that his fixation with Trunks was going to cause him to do something incredibly stupid that he would pay for with much more than his own already heavily scarred body. Losing Trunks would kill him much faster than any Android’s attack if he lost his focus at the wrong moment. He had to get rid of this mental and emotional preoccupation that he was becoming enslaved by and quickly, or he had to continue to stay as far away from Trunks as he could, until the effect of his bright-eyed companion wore off permanently, whichever came first he reasoned.

Gohan shook his head trying to clear the images that plagued him when he thought about Trunks. Images of the lavender haired youth grinning up at him, a feisty smirk on his face as he charged towards Gohan, daring the older man to try and take it easy on him in training ; or of the tears that Trunks cried at the scene of another android massacre, the pain those all too expressive brilliant blue eyes screamed out to Gohan to repair the damage around him, trusting implicitly in Gohan’s ability to solve every problem, or so it seemed.

“Gotcha!” A wiry arm shot out and wrapped around his shoulder, yanking him backwards, and tossing him onto his back, to be pinned under Trunks trim fighting form, before Gohan even realized anyone was nearby. Gohan shifted his weight instinctively to deliver a crushing blow, but identified halfway through the swing that it was Trunks’ voice he had heard, and was Trunks’ face glaring down at him with definite challenge clearly defined in the thin lipped countenance that he wore.

Gohan jerked back mentally at the grim determination, and blatant anger Trunks radiated in palpable waves. “Darn it Trunks don’t do that!” Gohan pushed Trunks off of his chest, leapt to his feet, whirling to glare at his fourteen year old protégé. “Do you understand how dangerous it is to sneak up on me like that?!” He ground out between clenched teeth, trying to stop his limbs from trembling at the image, that rose unbidden, of Trunks, badly injured, by his own hands, flashing across his mind’s eye.

“Well, Maybe if you hadn’t been hiding on me for the past three weeks I wouldn’t have needed to sneak up on you Gohan. Besides I actually tried to get your attention several times before I decided to tackle you. You were so deep in whatever corner of your mind you’ve gotten yourself hung up in, that you obviously wouldn’t have heard a freight train blasting through this little canyon if you couldn’t hear me yelling, hey, Gohan, what’s up?” Trunks snarled back, unfazed by his best friend’s sudden temper.

“So spill it Gohan. You’ve been avoiding me for three weeks now and I want to know what’s bugging you.” the mutinous set of Trunks’ jaw gave testament to how determined he was to get the answers he sought.

“Never mind Trunks. You wouldn’t understand what’s on my mind right now.” Gohan sighed and started to turn away from this temptation, with hopes of retreating from the situation completely in mind.

Trunks followed, resolute in his choice to get Gohan to open up. This wasn’t like him, and he knew that whatever was wrong had to be dealt with, and soon. Gohan wasn’t distant by nature. Something had to be drastically wrong for Gohan to withdraw from everyone like he had, so suddenly, and without explanation.

“I’m not going to let you out of talking to me Gohan, so just spill it and get it off your chest before whatever is bugging you drives you crazy!” Trunks suddenly poured on his maximum speed, jumping in front of Gohan, eyes snapping with anger at being told he couldn’t understand what was seriously wrong. “I’m not a little kid Gohan. Nobody is that lives in this world, and you know it as well as I do.” Trunks voice had dropped an half octave, thrumming like an animal’s warning growl, deep in his throat, as he blocked Gohan’s exit, fists balled and ready.

Gohan glanced sideways at Trunks, not daring to look him in the eye at the moment as he fought down the urge to grab Trunks and kiss him senseless.

“Trust me Trunks, you wouldn’t understand this time. It’s my own problem. IT will stay my own problem. Got That?” Gohan’s tone was harsh and intolerant, but Trunks wasn’t giving up unless Gohan managed to knock him out cold.

“You are the most important person in my life Gohan and I’m not going to let you get by with hiding whatever is eating you alive. You’re mother even called my mother today and asked if you’d been eating at my house. She says you haven’t been eating much when you bother going home. I’m not stupid and I’m not leaving here, and neither are you, unless I get to the bottom of this mess!” Trunks grabbed onto Gohan’s arm, when he sighed, turned and tried to take to the sky, jerking him back down before he managed to get airborne.

“Let go Trunks. I can solve this myself.” Gohan snapped impatiently at his adolescent infatuation. The contact was unsettling, as were the words Trunks had spoken so passionately a moment before. Gohan didn’t know what to make of being the most important person in Trunks’ life, unless he put himself in the roles of surrogate father, big brother, and teacher. He couldn’t believe that Trunks might possibly have the kinds of feelings that he was currently wrestling with, he reminded himself as he flexed his biceps trying to break the strangle-hold Trunks had on his arm.

The glare that the hot tempered, purple headed demi-Saiyajin was leveling on him was enough to make him swallow hard in dread, but he didn’t dare attempt to explain things he wasn’t even comfortable with facing, yet. Trunks was fourteen, and the fact that he was a guy made the situation twice as unsettling, since Gohan had always been taught that he would grow up and marry a nice girl someday. Gohan set his jaw in a similar, stubborn line, as Trunks had, and chose to attempt to glare his younger opponent down.

“You want me to let go Gohan, then tell me what’s wrong! I get the feeling I have something to do with it. So tell me what I did so I can fix it already. I’ll fix it anyway I can. You really are everything to me, Gohan. You’re the only person who can understand me, so please don’t shut me out like this.” The angry tone disintegrated into an emotional plea that ripped at Gohan’s walls as surely as if Trunks had been bleeding from an open wound.

Gohan grimaced as he turned his head away from soulful, bright blue, searching eyes, fighting to keep from crumbling under the weight of Trunks’ words. He knew Trunks wasn’t lying about how he felt. He just wasn’t certain that Trunks would appreciate the knowledge that, to him, being everything, in the form of surrogate father, mentor, and friend weren’t enough for him any more. “Trunks I can’t talk to you about this. I have to get a grip on myself first. OK? When I have things sorted out in my own head so I can find the right way to talk to you about this..”

“So I really am the problem!” Trunks groaned as he realized how frantic his voice sounded. He must have failed Gohan by not being able to turn Super Saiyajin. Maybe Gohan had decided that training him any longer was unnecessary, Trunks agonized heavy hearted. The training had given Trunks the excuse he craved so that he could spend time with Gohan, which he desperately needed. “It’s my failure to make it to Super Saiyajin, isn’t it Gohan? That’s why you haven’t been around to train every day for the last three weeks. You don’t think I can make it do you?” He turned his anger inwards against himself as he mentally kicked himself for not being strong enough to impress Gohan, and win his approval, if not his heart.

He couldn’t hide the disgust that he was directing towards himself from Gohan’s ears. The older demi-Saiyajin’s head whipped around, stunned, charcoal eyes boring into his own.

“Whaa…?” Gohan’s jaw worked reflexively as he tried to find his voice. “You’re so much farther along than I ever thought to be when I was your age…, and you think I’m disappointed in your training?” His voice was filled with disbelief.

The bewilderment in Gohan’s voice gave Trunks a second’s pause as he observed Gohan very closely, noticing the shadows, from too little sleep, that clung to his eyes, dulling their normal shine. Gohan’s hair was rumpled and in disarray, proving that he hadn’t been home in the last few days, nor had he rested, by his disheveled appearance. It infuriated him to see Gohan this tired and worn out and stubbornly trying to fix everything alone as usual. He’d get answers even if it killed them both he silently vowed, his jaw clenching even harder in determined belligerence.

Trunks wondered if Gohan had stopped training with him so suddenly because of his actions? Was there some subtle sign, such as the looks that he must not be quick enough at hiding, that might have tipped Gohan off to his feelings? His emotions were much more involved and complex than those of little brother adoration. Trunks’ mind raced and raged through the many possibilities with his hard pounding heart keeping time.

“Would you listen to yourself for a minute Trunks?” Gohan’s voice slapped him out of his private whirlwind fears. “I can’t believe you are trying to take responsibility for me. This isn’t your problem to try and take over Trunks. Do you understand me?” Gohan shook him by his shoulders hard enough to snap any other person’s neck like a twig caught a hurricane force gale. Trunks looked into those blazing eyes, wanting to ask Gohan if he knew, the worry of what conceivably could happen, holding him silent. Trunks chose to fight back, verbally lashing out at Gohan with every bit of hurt he had inside instead.

“What else should I think Gohan? Answer me that question!” Trunks fists were planted squarely on his narrow hips, his body shaking with the combined pain and fury generated by his recent suspicions that Gohan was specifically abandoning him. His lips drew back in a savage snarl exposing his canines in a fashion reminiscent of fangs. “You just up and vanished without so much as a goodbye three weeks ago, and avoid me completely like I don’t exist for no reason at all. And you expect me to believe that this has nothing to do with my failure as a Super Saiyajin, or, at the very least, with my training in some other fashion..?” Trunks spat the words with more venom than Gohan had thought possible for Trunks to be able to feel.

He almost gasped aloud as Trunks’ lavender hair began to ripple and rise on an unseen current of energy, as if it were being whipped up by a heavy gust of wind. Gohan quickly noted that Trunks’ energy levels shot far beyond anything he had ever accomplished in any of their training sessions, generating the golden hued aura that suddenly shimmered like a thin band of sunlight around his body, as his eyes shifted to that unique green-hued turquoise that denoted a super Saiyajin’s transformation. His hair alone stayed it’s normal, silken, lavender hue.

Oblivious to the shift he was on the verge of making, Trunks continued to roar at Gohan, resentment, dread and heartache whipping through his quivering figure. “I’m not that stupid, Gohan! I know you better than anyone else possibly could. I know you as well as I know myself, maybe even better than you know yourself, in some ways! I mean it when I say you’re everything to me damn you! So stop playing games with me because I’m not going to give you up without a fight!” Trunks was levitating so that he was slightly above Gohan, and semi-crouched over his quarry in a threatening manner, ready to do bodily damage if pushed any further towards the edge.

Gohan blinked at him owlishly for a moment, digesting what Trunks had yelled at him. His gut reaction demanded that he pounce on Trunks and kiss the teenager into mindless submission, even as his mind reeled, and fought back, trying to rationalize the look on Trunks’ face and what it meant.

Trunks eyes widened as realization of what he had just screamed, washed over him. He slapped a hand over his mouth, watching Gohan cautiously, waiting, without breathing, for the explosion he was sure would follow his own volcanic fit of temper. It was too late to take back his words now, so he had to hope for the best. He dropped out of the air, trembling with doubt, and sudden fatigue, all fight evaporating as rapidly as it had overwhelmed him.

Gohan didn’t realize that he had moved to wrap his arms around Trunks until he felt the younger man’s relieved tears on his shoulder. He just held on without a word. Trunks moved to hold onto him tighter, as if losing contact would tear him apart completely. Gohan ran a soothing hand through Trunks’ lavender hair, his chin resting comfortably on top of Trunks’ head, as he contemplated what to do or say next. He admitted to himself that he was completely in over his head with matters of the heart. The only thing he knew for sure, was that he had to try and find some kind of middle ground where he could keep from hurting Trunks and stay sane too.

He felt Trunks shift his weight, and tilted his head so that he could look into Trunks eyes, which were wary, but calm. Gohan secretly wished he could feel half so calm as Trunks. “I’m not letting you go until you talk to me Gohan. I’m never going to let you get by with holding onto secrets.” Trunks flashed a knowing smirk at Gohan, who had caught himself shaking his head in bemusement by the far too observant younger man in his arms. Something in Trunks Eyes seemed to warn that he was plotting something but Gohan couldn’t imagine what Trunks might be up to in a situation that was as awkward as this one.

Gohan had known for a while that Trunks had been forced to grow up a lot faster than he had, and was emotionally as mature as any adult he had ever known. Still, he found himself worrying about what Trunks was, or wasn’t, ready to deal with, especially if it was something he might regret later. Gohan wasn’t even sure what he should or shouldn’t do in this situation, never mind the possibility of regrets later.

Trunks, comprehending the silent war being waged inside of Gohan’s head, made up his mind to force Gohan to choose to accept or reject the offer of his love by reaching up and pulling Gohan’s mouth to his own before Gohan grasped what was happening. He lightly touched their lips together, tempting Gohan to join him in discovering what was between them. A moment’s hesitation passed before Gohan gave in to the feather light touch of Trunks’ questioning lips against his own.

Long suppressed emotions exploded as their lips collided in an ancient dance of instinctual need. Gohan felt his discipline slipping as Trunks molded his body to his own, curling his fingers through his unruly, black locks. It was all the invitation Gohan needed to devour Trunks’ mouth greedily. His discipline began crumbling more rapidly as Trunks made a deep, throaty, pleading noise in the back of his throat, asking without words for even more.

Gohan’s knees threatened to buckle when Trunks parted his lips, inviting a more primal, and intimate embrace. What little ability Gohan had left to reason with was quick to notice that Trunks had obviously decided what he wanted, and wasn’t afraid to pursue it with the same incredible focus he pursued everything that interested him. Being the object of that intensive focus was mind boggling for Gohan, who felt like he was drowning in all the sensations that Trunks was evoking in him, wreaking havoc on faculties already heavily strained by too little sleep and far too many questions he hadn’t been able to answer on his own.

‘Maybe Trunks does know me better than I know myself.’ Gohan thought in a flash of insight at discovering that he and Trunks were both on their knees, still clinging to each other, tongues entwined in a heated battle for supremacy. His mind went momentarily blank as Trunks pulled him down, to sprawl across the top of his smaller frame, on the richly carpeted grassy embankment, enticing him with light nips across his lower lip to participate completely in this new experience.

Gohan went willingly enough, shifting so that he was in a more comfortable position, with Trunks snugly held against his body, his head pillowed under Gohan’s arm. In a flash he was deepening their kiss, and stealing Trunks’ breath away. Gohan couldn’t get enough of Trunks’ lips, but at the same time, he wanted to taste every inch of the sensual youth’s body, starting at his ear, and not stopping until he had nibbled every inch of the lavender teen who was so ardently returning his every touch with his own heated nips and caresses.

Trunks took the initiative away by nipping lightly on his earlobe, causing Gohan to squirm, as newly awakening nerve endings shot every sensation straight to his groin. “Trunks, wait a minu..” Gohan couldn’t get the sentence he tried to form past the rapidly building groan that Trunks was inciting with his tongue flicking across Gohan’s throat in erotic circles, evoking even more arousing reactions to flare through Gohan’s system. A growl startled Gohan momentarily, until Trunks soft chuckle merged with the instinctual sound coming from his own throat.

“Frustrating you am I?” The provocative tone in Trunks voice mesmerized the older man, who looked down, flustered, at Trunks smugly grinning countenance, completely at ease with the fact that he had Gohan against the ropes emotionally, and knew it only too well.

“Damn it Trunks, we haven’t even thought this through yet. What happens afterwards? Have you thought about that?” Gohan tried to reason with his blatantly horny, if inexperienced partner, trying to drum up enough shreds of control to get the upper hand before Trunks had him completely beguiled. “I’m not exactly an expert on this subject either Trunks.” Gohan spoke quickly before he lost his nerve to confess his own lack of dating experience.

“I’m hoping that we can have plenty of time to do lots more of whatever happens right here, in the future.” Trunks whispered tantalizingly in Gohan’s ear, a sly look in his eyes. He nibbled on already hyper-sensitive flesh, generating a deep throated moan from his captivated lover, knowing he was on the verge of winning the fight with Gohan’s overblown sense of propriety. “Wouldn’t that be you’re first choice Gohan?” Trunks whispered as he ran a hand down Gohan’s lower back, gripping the tunic fabric lightly, as he nuzzled closer. “I think we can figure out things together if we both just trust ourselves and want to make each other happy. Don’t you?”

Trunks pulled up on the fabric of Gohan’s gi top, tickling the small of Gohan’s back with his fingertips as he slid the material up, kissing the base of Gohan’s neck, disarming the older demi-Saiyajin completely. With a quick maneuver he pushed Gohan over onto his back and was straddling his waist, in one fluid motion. Gohan gasped, wondering exactly when he had completely lost control of the situation.

Gohan’s eyes slid shut and his mind stuttered to a complete stand still as Trunks lips found their way to his nipples, and his tongue, lips and teeth went to work with enthusiasm. The images of what was bound to happen, combined with the heady feelings Trunks was creating, wreaked havoc on the last traces of society trained protocols that attempted to hold Gohan back.

Instincts raged to the forefront with Trunks newest assault, as Gohan shifted, helping remove his gi top, already caught up in the next expected wave of Trunks’ ministrations, the clamoring sensations that flooded his system sweeping through him like wildfire. His fingers curled in Trunks’ hair impulsively as he shivered, gasping in pleasure as Trunks ran his hands across rapidly heating flesh, quickly followed by his dating tongue.

An answering chuckle tumbled past Trunks lips, as the younger demi-Saiyajin reveled in his moment of victory and wondered for a moment why he hadn’t thought to attempt such a direct assault weeks before. He nipped lightly at Gohan’s well defined wash board stomach, reveling in the hard muscles rippling beneath his touch. His hands already busy with the waist band of Gohan’s pants.

Gohan turned the tables on him without warning, when he released Trunks’ hair, and grabbed onto his waist, twisting his body so that Trunks was again underneath him. “Getting a bit too far ahead aren’t you Trunks?” He grinned down at his pouty lipped tormentor. “I think it’s time I did some of the exciting Trunks, because much more of yours and I’m done for.” Gohan smirked as he spoke, already tugging at Trunks shirt.

“Hmmmmm, promises, promises. But I will finish what I had on my mind first chance I get.” Trunks purred, a wicked gleam in his eyes, as he snatched his shirt out of Gohan’s grip, yanking it over his head, and tossing it to the side. ‘You’re moving too slow old man. I’ll take over again if you don’t start keeping up.” he taunted Gohan mercilessly, wiggling a lavender eye brow suggestively.

“And just where did you learn to be so sassy Trunks?” Gohan teased, one eyebrow raised in amusement as he pinned Trunks’ smaller frame beneath his muscular, and much more substantial form.

“Oh, that’s a secret I’ll keep for now, Gohan. I’d much rather have you figure that one out by yourself. But for the moment, shut up and kiss me.” He drug Gohan down into another mind blowing kiss, before relinquishing control again.

Gohan growled as he took over once again, this time without hesitation. He let his mouth trail across Trunks’ throat leisurely, trailing his own tongue across the hollow planes and erogenous zones that he found and exploited with fierce attention. He had Trunks writhing and panting in wanton abandon as he nipped, sucked, kissed and licked his way from the hollow at Trunks throat to his naval, not leaving an inch of skin untouched, or untasted. Gohan’s palms molded themselves to Trunks waist, just above his hips as his tongue darted into his navel, teasing, tantalizing, and suggestively promising other explorations that pushed Trunks imagination into overdrive.

Trunks hips twitched as he tossed his head in response to the extremely heated yearnings flashing through his body and pooling in his groin and lower abdomen. Gohan hadn’t been kidding when he said it was his turn to inflame passions.

He was going nuts, and Gohan was having a very nice time indeed with insuring that he was a lot hotter than he had ever imagined it was possible to be, and they hadn’t even gotten to the really steamy stuff that Trunks had read about in those magazines his mother had stashed in the top of her workroom closet yet. She had no idea that he had found them of course, and he wasn’t dumb enough to get caught snooping.

He had learned a lot about what went on behind bedroom doors from those magazines, or so he had thought that morning. He was beginning to revise his opinion of what those books had illustrated behind their glossy covers. Either that, or Gohan had been joking when he said he wasn’t an expert at this because the way Trunks felt, he would explode without being touched below the belt and soon.

He felt the snap on his pants release, but was incapable of more than a stammered “Goh.., han,” and a throaty sound of encouragement, as he was freed from the confining material. He looked down through arousal glazed eyes, to see Gohan pausing to look over him hungrily as if he would completely devour him. Trunks shivered in anticipation, longing to yank Gohan’s gi pants off of him and wrap his legs around his waist and beg to get his way if need be.

Gohan glanced up and smiled sensually at the provocative look Trunks was giving him. He tossed the sweat pants he had in his hands aside, not breaking the eye contact, even as his hands returned to skim along Trunks calves lightly, teasing even more responses out of nerves already on fire. He lowered his head and lightly nipped the inside of his thigh teasing as he traveled upwards slowly. Trunks moaned and reached down towards Gohan with beseeching hands. “You like that hmmm?” the silky tone washed over Trunks, a purr ignited in Trunks throat in response.

Gohan was intent upon pleasing Trunks, touching him slowly, watching his every reaction, pushing the teen to the limits of his endurance. To judge by the sheen of sweat and the almost desperate tone of Trunks panting he was doing everything right so far. Gohan was glad that he was succeeding in driving Trunks wild. He wanted this to be something that Trunks would treasure as a memory.

Gohan had let his instincts guide him, and he followed them now back up Trunks thighs, needing to touch and taste every inch of his lavender haired lover, needing to feel what Trunks felt, but knowing that he couldn’t truly feel everything Trunks felt, no matter how annoying it was to have to judge by sight, sent, touch, taste and sound alone. It was too shallow an experience something cried inside of his mind. But Gohan didn’t know how to fill the need to be inside of Trunks mind, so he continued to taunt and tease and delight Trunks in every conceivable way he could think of.

Trunks tensed, gasping, when Gohan’s hand touched his swollen and throbbing manhood. Gohan made a noise of approval as his hand more firmly grasped Trunks’ engorged member causing a throaty cry to spill from Trunks’ lips. Gohan chuckled appreciatively at the heady reaction his fondling induced in his lover. He stroked Trunks as he taunted him by nipping and soothing with his lips and tongue along first one thigh then the other, getting an even more aggressive reaction to his caresses as Trunks thrust upwards. He wrapped an arm around Trunks’ hips as he moved his hand up and down in a slow sensual rhythm fanning the flames of Trunks’ passion while he continued to tease him with slow burning kisses, and erotic nibbles that ever moved closer to his destination.

Trunks was shuddering with anticipation by the time Gohan lowered his head to take his manhood in his mouth. Trunks hands snaked into Gohan’s hair as his hips thrust upwards in silent entreaty. Gohan spoke softly to him, trying to calm the teen who thrashed in the throes of this newly awakening desire. Trunks’ chest heaved with his attempt to gain some control of himself, as Gohan soothed him with words, even as he moved his heavier frame into position to help him hold Trunks down, before he resumed teasing him by twirling his tongue around Trunks’ sensitive head eliciting another broken cry of need.

Gohan admired the muscular hips that trembled beneath his touch, and his straining cock, before once more taking him in his mouth, drawing him deeper, sucking him with infinite care. The sensations had Trunks fighting to not writhe in ecstasy even as he cried out begging for the release he desperately craved. If not for the arm Gohan pinned him down with, Trunks would have thrust in an ever increasing rhythm, seeking relief that the sensations crashing through him pleaded for.

Gohan began to provide the rhythm that Trunks was begging for by pulling back and dipping his head forward again to draw his throbbing shaft deeper into his mouth again, mimicking the thrusts that Trunks, in his inexperience, unintentionally kept fighting to make, in his current, hyper-aroused state.

Gohan was aware of how much Trunks needed release and he took more of him into his mouth with each downward dip of his head. He had to make certain Trunks didn’t choke him, as the teen was well endowed, before he allowed Trunks any leverage to move with him. Gohan fondled Trunks heated sacks eliciting whimpers and moans that excited Gohan and drove him to attempt to get even more heated reactions from the lavender haired boy.

Gohan didn’t pause in his ministrations, shifting so that his hand could continue pumping Trunks’ manhood, while he moved his mouth to lap at the sensitive sacks, circling them with his tongue before gently taking them one at a time into his mouth and sucking on them to enhance the sensations Trunks was feeling. When Gohan again took Trunks’ shaft into his mouth, he allowed Trunks to supply the rhythm he liked, by giving his young lover a small amount of freedom of motion as he moved one hand down and cupped Trunks butt possessively.

Trunks tried to thrust upwards in nearly uncontrolled lust to meet the hot mouth that was tormenting him, and bringing him closer to the edge with ever increasing friction and speed, pushing Trunks to the brink of full euphoric eruption in a matter of moments. Gohan met each short thrust with a quick darting of his tongue around the tip of Trunks shaft before taking him completely into his mouth again. He made sounds of encouragement deep in his throat, adding to the pleasure of his lover immensely. Trunks surged against him, losing control in a shuddering climax that had him screaming out Gohan’s name between ragged gasps.

Gohan swallowed hard as he felt the hot ejaculation hit the back of his throat, though some escaped along his chin to splatter on Trunks’ groin. He bent his head to lap up the last of the carnal offering, giving Trunks another ardent erection in a matter of minutes. Trunks lifted his head as he felt the intense sensations building again, more slowly, but with twice the intensity as he had felt with this first initiation experience. He couldn’t think coherently yet, but he knew Gohan was probably at least half as aroused as he was, and he was still in his gi pants, some small part of Trunks mind reminded him.

“Gohan?” Trunks tried to speak, still gasping for breath even as he felt his lover’s touch soothing, and erotic simultaneously, moving along his body, as if memorizing ever plain and valley of his form.

“Mmmmm?” the sound was more purr than question.

Trunks tugged a bit to get Gohan to raise his head, and look him in the eyes.

“I love you.” The soft smile that played on Gohan’s lips was incredibly sexy and Trunks thought he was going to drown in their dark brown mysterious depths, as something deeper within seemed to shift, floating free within himself.

“I know Trunks. If it wasn’t for that we wouldn’t be like this at the moment.” He moved up along Trunks body, until he could kiss his lover with tender reverence.

“You know you’re still wearing way too many clothes don’t you?” Trunks grinned up at his dark haired half, arms wrapped around Gohan’s neck by the time they broke their steadily more heated kisses for air.

“Depends on one’s perspective. I’m only wearing too many clothes when I decide I’ve had my fill of exploring every inch of you.” Gohan breathed in Trunks ear, sucking on the sensitive flesh to urge another unbridled response from his fair haired beloved.

“Mmhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrr” The irritated tone of Trunks throaty growl caused Gohan to raise up a fraction, unwittingly giving Trunks leverage to move, which he did with elasticity, pushing Gohan over and straddling him. “Oh no you don’t Gohan. I plan on having plenty of time for investigating each other over a long period of time. So you can just save some of your investigating for another day.” Trunks glared down at Gohan, lavender hair swirling in his eyes as the wind blew softly across their skin. With a gentle caress, Gohan moved the overly long bangs out of Trunks eyes, grinning wickedly up at his temperamental paramour, seeing the impetuous gleam that sparkled within his sky blue eyes.

Gohan was transfixed by the sudden onrush of emotions, complex and profound, that he hadn’t been aware of a moment before. He couldn’t break the tenuous, electric contact with Trunks’ slightly glowing eyes. Gohan was jolted by the sudden feeling of being caught in an almost overwhelming emptiness that desperately needed filling to make him whole. The thought slammed through him simultaneously that he was the only one who could fill that emptiness and the image that swirled through is mind so rapidly was of him being filled by,….. himself?

In a flash of dazed insight Gohan realized that he was feeling, and seeing what Trunks felt, instead of his own emotions, or thoughts, although the sensations were so powerful it was easy to mistake Trunks’ emotions for his own, in the crazy whirlwind that was currently his mind.

The thing that immediately allowed Gohan to differentiate between his and Trunks emotions, was the intricate texture of the younger demi-Saiyajin’s mind. Gohan had always stifled his Saiyajin nature to please his mother, while Trunks had always been allowed his Saiyajin based instinctual heritage, with the exception of fighting. Bulma had always found ways to help him focus his instinctual fighting spirit into more positive channels instead of trying to make him completely give up all of his instinctual Saiyajin attitudes and activities, unlike his own mother ChiChi.

Trunks smirked at him as he picked up on the train of Gohan’s thoughts. “You know it’s never to late to stop denying who and what you are. She can’t run your life forever, my own.”

“What? How?” Gohan stuttered a bit confusion evident in his expression.

“I can hear your thoughts just as you can hear mine once you figure out who’s thinking what.” Trunks leaned down and nipped the tip of Gohan’s nose affectionately.

“Oh. Um well, gosh. I guess I get to figure out who’s thinking what and fast then don’t I?” he chuckled self consciously, lifting his hand to his head and scratching his head in a most adorable, if goofy fashion.

Trunks leered at Gohan’s nervous antics before lowering his head and kissing him thoroughly, while his hands maneuvered to remove the one object that was still between him and his current goal, Gohan’s pants. He found the pant’s sash, and waistband in record time, and had them both untied in seconds flat. Trunks shifted his weight to make it possible to pull the fabric down off of Gohan’s hips, rubbing his already nude body along his lover’s as he moved.

The slow movements of his hands as he gently tugged at the fabric, heedful of Gohan’s aching cock, confined within. He pulled the fabric down to Gohan’s mid-thighs, stroking lightly with his hands, as he migrated towards Gohan’s boot clad feet. Trunks eyed Gohan’s newly revealed manhood with yearning. Soon enough he would have every obstacle out of the way so that he could give all of himself to the one he loved in the manner he wished.

Trunks locked his eyes with Gohan’s once more, to insure that he could continue to share his thoughts and feelings with his lover, unconditionally. He noticed that Gohan’s eyes had begun to glow faintly, in response to his own mental bridging technique. Trunks knew that he had always had unusually strong psychic powers, as his mother could vouch for with alacrity, as he had repeatedly stopped her from dieing when she had fallen victim to a severe heart attack three years earlier.

He was using his telepathic abilities now to gently force Gohan to accept his Saiyajin nature altogether, as it was the instincts of their fathers’ race drawing the two of them to each other in their mutual need of each other’s strength and emotional rapport.

Gohan was in a quandary over this new development in their sudden, rapidly shifting relationship. He wasn’t quite sure of what to think of the intense images that flashed from Trunks’ mind to his own, although the suggestive nature of the images was better than any aphrodisiac on his already highly inflamed libido. He had never considered that Trunks might be so far advanced where sex was concerned.

It hadn’t been until his nineteenth birthday that Gohan had even considered what went on behind closed bedroom doors, much less tried to get any physical contact of this nature. The fact that Trunks was not only actively chasing him, but in fact had him right where he wanted him, was a shock to the dark haired demi-Saiyajin’s system. He wanted the lavender haired tempter in a desperate way that frightened him.

He felt Trunks every intention like a physical blow, due to the mental link they were now sharing with each other. Trunks wasn’t censoring what he wanted, and what he knew he would get if he was persistent in his pursuit of his goal. Gohan didn’t want to fight what was happening, although he worried he might hurt Trunks unintentionally if not extremely cautious. As they proceeded, especially with the current lack of control he felt he was exhibiting, Gohan was certain that it could become a very real issue.

Trunks, reading his worries, tried to calm his anxieties with his own feelings and emotions. Trunks moved provocatively up Gohan’s body, rubbing every inch of his nude body against him. He caressed Gohan’s lower lip with a finger tip as he spoke, tracing the outline of it’s full, kiss swollen flesh with tenderness. ” I know you won’t hurt me Gohan. You can’t hurt me because I know that you love me and that is all that matters to either of us right now.”

Gohan reached out grabbing Trunks wrist, nipping provocatively on the digit before he pulled it into his mouth, licking and sucking on it in a suggestive manner. Trunks moaned at the image evoking contact, grinding his pelvis reflexively against Gohan’s own arousal, generating a throaty reaction as Gohan reached down and grabbed on to his hips, gyrating against Trunks nude body in reply.

Gohan watched Trunks reactions through veiled eyes, sensing the reactions of the youth, who was so ardently asking to be taken with his every action, that Gohan wondered how much longer he’d be able to constrain himself from taking Trunks up on his wordless offer.

The newly awaking empathic connection between them was staggering his senses, as he was becoming lost in Trunks’ impressions, as well as the passions that Trunks was generating in him, as their bodies touched. His logical mind had become submerged in the tidal wave of physical stimulus, so that Gohan wasn’t certain what he had thought before. He knew that somewhere in the back of his mind he needed to slow things down, but couldn’t recall why, as Trunks maneuvered ever lower along his body, eliciting frenzied responses to erupt along his already overly sensitive nervous system.

Gohan was ready to explode by the time Trunks had worked his way down to his waist, intent upon pleasing his dark haired lover, as well as getting his own needs finally met. Trunks went to work on Gohan’s erect manhood with a vengeance once he had the older demi-Saiyajin flat on his back and helpless to slow things down any longer.

Trunks wanted to be Gohan’s in every way, no matter what happened in the aftermath of this day’s liaison. He knew that it was meant to be and he was taking no chances of losing this one chance to break the last barriers between himself and the object of his deepest desires. He rose up on his haunches, pinning Gohan with a brilliant stare, pushing the limits of Gohan’s own instincts to break any remaining inhibitions that Gohan might still harbor with his mind. He pulled emotionally upon Gohan’s more primal side, embedding the sense of rightness that was rippling through both of their hearts.

He moved over Gohan, lowering himself onto his arousal. He held back the touch of momentary pain that assailed him intuitively, to that of a slight, momentary twinge of discomfort. The mental link between the two wouldn’t allow the complete blocking of Trunks’ discomfort, bringing Gohan’s concern once more to glaring life.

“Trunks, are you alright? Why did you move so fast damn it?” Gohan raised up on his elbows, reaching out towards his lover, gasping at his beau’s discomfort.

“I’m fine. Stop worrying about me, my own.” Trunks soothed Gohan’s brow with a caress. Gohan’s forehead had furrowed with the strain of concentrating on not reacting too quickly to the blissful heat and tightness surrounding his throbbing cock, until he was convinced that Trunks was in no danger of physical harm, due to his naive and reckless course of action.

He focused on slowing his breathing, trying to regain some semblance of personal control to insure he didn’t move before Trunks was ready. “Why didn’t you warn me you were going to move on to the next stage Trunks? You weren’t prepared for me yet.” Gohan groaned as he thought about how smooth this could have been, had he had thought to let his fingers roam more freely, when he’d had the chance, during his exploration of Trunks’ body. “You really should have let me help,… mmmrrnn..” Trunks silenced Gohan with a long ravenous kiss, moving slowly into an intuitive rhythm, to continue their tryst.

Gohan responded by moving his hands to grasp Trunks’ hips, while his mouth molded to his teenaged lover’s, tongues entwined as they both became lost in each other completely. Each moved in harmony with the other, learning the signals of what the other needed through the mental bond that was guiding them.

Gohan felt Trunks euphoria upon finding an angle that sent pleasure reverberating throughout his trim, muscular form. Gohan quickly focused his being on making certain that Trunks continued to feel the heated rush of newly discovered feelings washing through his intoxicated body, moving both of them into a new position that stabilized the angle of his thrusts for the maximum pleasure he could bring.

Gohan held onto Trunks securely, once he was up on his knees, Trunks legs wrapped around his waist, his arms moving to the small of Trunks back, arching his passionate young lover into an even more intensely erotic position. Trunks cried out, with incoherent, carnal sounds that begged for deeper strokes from him immediately after the first impact against that beguiling bundle of nerve endings that begged for more attention.

Gohan answered hungrily, nipping at Trunks’ throat as he moved to the pace Trunks’ emotional state commanded of him, holding back his own almost insatiable need for release, until he felt Trunks’ climax. He took Trunks arousal into his hand and began to move his hand into rhythm with their undulating bodies, sending Trunks over the edge into rapturous abandon, following within moments, generating powerful aftershocks that increased the depth of Trunks’ own completion.

***

ChiChi had waited for three days to find out where Gohan had vanished to. Three days had been far too long for Trunks to have been gone, in search of her wayward son. She didn’t care that he was a grown man and could take care of himself. For all she knew he had gotten into another of his one-person wars with the androids and had been killed.

Bulma had shown up with a million unanswerable questions on her lips, demanding to know what had become of her son, as he hadn’t returned, after promising them both that he would bring Gohan back home before forty eight hours had passed. Trunks was no match for the androids either. Both women had begun to comb the area around the Son residence, hoping to pick up some clue as to where the two demi-Saiyajins had vanished to.

They believed that Trunks would have started his search for clues near the Son residence, as the last time anyone had seen Gohan, had been when he had returned home for dinner, and had slept in his own bed, several days ago. It would be the most logical place to start searching from the Son residence area, since Gohan knew it so well and could probably find many places to reside temporarily.

Gohan knew the basics of surviving, from fishing to wild foraging, from having done so much of it over the years to supplement the family food stores. He had also learned about it from his time training under Piccolo before Vegeta and Nappa had arrived to try and destroy earth and claim the dragon-balls for a wish of immortality. This was one of the major factors that made it such an obvious choice, the two women agreed.

Gohan had been in the position to take refuge in many of the little canyons during storms, and had mentioned several caves over the years, in various areas, which had become temporary shelters during the truly violent storms that hit the region on occasion.

ChiChi, being more familiar with the terrain, had taken the harder routes with a small air-bike. She only needed a small transport, as the larger car or air-car based variety vehicles wouldn’t readily set down in some of the small gulches that she had chosen, from the maps they had perused, to investigate.

Bulma had agreed to sweep the more open and easily accessed parts of the district, where Gohan might have gone to. Both women carried communications gear, and first aide kits, as well as basic staples for camping. They had both packed for three days in the wilderness, Bulma with her capsule house and fancy gear, and ChiChi with the true roughing-it style tent, and such, en-capsuled within one pocket fitting capsule to save space.

Bulma was about to start her second day of sweeping the country side, when a voice that had haunted her dreams for so many years spoke from behind her. “Hello, Woman. I see you haven’t changed very much over the years.”

She whirled, long hair whipping into her eyes as her pony tail reacted like a whip to the force of her turn. “Vegeta?” Her eyes widened at the ghostly apparition of her long dead lover.

“Looking for someone I take it?” he grinned at her through the veils of blue haze that made up his temporal body.

“Trunks and Gohan are both missing and ChiChi and I are trying to find them. Please tell me that you aren’t here because the Androids got them.” Bulma’s eyes begged, even as she took on the tones of a woman demanding that she be given exactly what she wanted.

“The brats are fine so you needn’t have bothered. They’re just imprinting and should be left alone.”

“What do you mean imprinting, and what are you talking about Vegeta?” Bulma demanded suspiciously.

“Unlike you puny humans, Saiyajins require a form of bond that allows the two individuals a viable energy feeding system. You remember how I used to feed you energy don’t you?” The Saiyajin prince smirked wickedly at Bulma, who blushed to her toes at the memory of the incredible nights they had spent together, before the androids had murdered him so ruthlessly.

Suddenly, her red faced embarrassment turned to a look of fury, “You mean to tell me that Trunks and Gohan are, …. are..” She couldn’t force the words out as she stammered in outrage at the thought of her only son having sex with another man. Of course she would have been upset had he had sex with a girl at this point in his youthful life as well, though she wouldn’t have been so blatantly obvious about it.

She stamped her foot in outrage. “Oh when I get my hands on Gohan I’ll,… I’ll Kill him!” She shrieked at the spectral form of her dead lover.

“I don’t think so, Woman. They are imprinting and without that Trunks will continue to stay at the power levels he’s now trapped at. Besides it may be of help to get Kakarrotto’s brat to a higher power level as well so that he can kill those Androids and get revenge for me, and the rest of those foolish humans, who tried to stop their terror before it got a chance to get out of control.” Vegeta folded his arms across his stomach, in a superior fashion, as he floated in front of Bulma.

“That is still no excuse for Gohan to be,.. well you know….” Bulma still couldn’t force her self to say what was flashing through her mind. “Trunks is still a kid Vegeta! He’s way too young to be doing something like that with anyone, much less Gohan of all people! He’s taking advantage of Trunks if he’s, having,… sex with our son” she finally blurted the phrase out after a long drawn out pause.

Vegeta chuckled in genuine amusement. “You still can’t say the word sex without blushing and a lot of stammering in between can you Bulma?”

“Oh shut up you insensitive Jerk! Just because you weren’t raised with any manners doesn’t mean that I have to be such a gutter mouth!” Bulma snapped back, hands on hips, in her own unique battle ready pose.

“I knew there was a reason I miss your nagging at times. You look so much more appealing when you want to attack me, or didn’t you know that?” Vegeta looked at her thoughtfully as he continued to hover just above the physical ground.

Bulma momentarily softened the glare she had leveled on her ghostly apparition’s profile. “Even though you were the most annoying man I ever met in this world, I miss you too Vegeta.”

“Enough of this silly sentimental nonsense. You need to get to Kakarrotto’s mate before she gets herself killed by interfering with Gohan and our brat’s imprinting.” He turned as if to leave, then looked back towards her. “Well what are you waiting for woman? Do I need to give you a written invitation to get into that contraption you use to get from one place to another or what?”

“Oohhrrrhhhhhhhh! Vegeta!” Bulma barked in frustration. “It’s called a car damned you. And I am not Woman! I have a name and you damned well know that! Besides I have no intention of doing anything but helping ChiChi put an end to this craziness you’re talking about between Gohan and Trunks. I’ll make sure that perverted son of a bitch never gets within half a mile of my son again for this Vegeta!”

“No. You’re not going to interfere, at least not if you’re as smart as I think you are. Gohan will be dead soon if you interfere, and so will our brat. So get in that car of yours and lets go now!” Vegeta bellowed right back at his blue haired, surly tempered, mate. “And just for the record, Woman, it was our brat that started the imprinting, not Kakarrotto’s.” He began to move away from the now silent and shocked Bulma with every intention of getting his mission completed before he was forced to return to the realms of the dead.

He was on a very limited time budget, as well as having only a small amount of energy left with which to get Bulma to the correct area in time. ChiChi was too close to finding the demi-Saiyajins in their current quarters, and Kakarrotto hadn’t been in a position to come himself and stop his mate from doing something suicidal. His death by that virus had insured that he was now securely locked behind the Higher realm gates and couldn’t use even the most ghostly of temporal bodies, hence Vegeta had been pushed into volunteering for the job as a favor for his long time rival, and only real friend.

Bulma had recovered, and gotten her car started, and was now chasing after him full throttled, he noted absently, as he mentally scanned the area for the demi-Saiyajins and ChiChi’s ki signatures, trying to determine if there was still enough time to get to the female before she had a chance to be shocked out of her wits by walking into the two males engaged in the act of imprinting. He was reassured by the distance between ki signatures when he managed to locate ChiChi’s energy. They still had time t o stop her from getting herself killed he smiled with certainty as he moved even more rapidly towards his destination.

***

Trunks watched Gohan’s sleeping face with longing. The older demi- Saiyajin’s face was peaceful for once, something that Trunks noted as he looked up at his beloved from the comfort of his chest. He knew that Gohan was no longer in danger of getting ill, as he had been, when Trunks had initially arrived to confront him on his evasiveness, and outright abandonment tactic. Gohan hadn’t been eating or sleeping, in his struggle to control his emotions and his attraction to his youthful student, thinking it was a flagrant breach of Trunks trust in him.

Gohan had begun to deteriorate as he had wrestled with the demons that had plagued him over the lavender haired demi-Saiyajin’s safety and happiness. It had taken Trunks actively forcing the issue of their mutual attraction through a beseeching and submissive kiss, combined with his own natural empathic abilities, to get beyond Gohan’s obsessive sense of propriety, instilled in him by ChiChi before he had been born. Trunks had to force Gohan to eat the first evening they had spent together through the same empathic tactics, as Gohan had continued to struggle with his deeply ingrained sense of what was and wasn’t acceptable behavior based upon his upbringing. Thanks to Trunks youthful vigor and feisty will to fight back with every ounce of wit and wile he possessed, Gohan was back to eating with typical Saiyajin relish, and sleeping without trouble, much to Trunks’ immense relief.

Time was blurred and soft edged, leaving Trunks uncertain of how long exactly they had been languishing on this small, out of the way shelf under an outcropping of granite, that acted as a natural shelter from the worst of the elements, while allowing a perfect view of all sides of the small ravine they had stayed in. All that Trunks was certain of, was that they had eaten on a couple of occasions from the bounty of the little canyon, fishing and foraging from the various wild bushes and trees that were heavily laden with fruits during this time of year. They had been insatiable with each other in almost every conceivable corner of the small canyon that they were inhabiting at the moment as well.

Trunks was aware, in a detached manner, that there had been nights under the stars with a campfire to warm the overhang they were sleeping under, when sleep could intrude upon their passion. Most pronounced, and sharpest focused of all that had transpired, was the knowledge that he and Gohan had been incapable of keeping their hands to themselves in their mutual exploration of their new relationship status. They had explored each other and what each needed to be most fulfilled in may ways, dominating and submitting alike to each other in their love play.

He snuggled in closer to his lover’s chest, inside the sleeping bag he had been carrying when he left the Son residence in search of his wayward mentor, wondering if he dare wake Gohan up the way that he had been contemplating since he had awoken. He had been teased unmercifully by Gohan the night before over his new-found, passionate desire to touch, and be caressed in return, though he knew that Gohan didn’t really mind this newfound engrossment in concrete embraces, and sensual arousal. If anything, Gohan was as bad as himself, neither being able to keep their hands off the other for very long.

Trunks turned so that his back was to Gohan’s chest spooning against Gohan’s larger frame, concentrating on returning to sleep for a while longer in an attempt to push away the impulse to stroke Gohan’s body into wildly heated passion that would lead to another bout of frenzied abandon between them.

Trunks found that he liked the out of control nature Gohan exhibited when he was still more asleep than awake. There was no possibility of barriers between them in those moments, and he showed a lustful freedom that was delicious to Trunks’ youthful senses. Gohan was all unbridled enthusiasm and powerful hunger before he became mentally focused enough to remember to exert his ever present self-control over his own aroused needs, thinking to protect his young lover from some nonexistent potential damage that Gohan believed such raw abandon could inflict on Trunks.

Trunks semi-annoyed thoughts were interrupted by a soft snort from his obviously very awake, dark haired demi-Saiyajin lover. A hand glided across his stomach as Gohan lifted his upper torso over Trunks’ smaller frame to better view his face, as he pinned Trunks hips against his own obvious aroused need. “You like it when I’m out of control huh?” The smirk on his face relaxed Trunks’ suddenly taut, and mortified nerves, even as the growled tone sent a shiver of anticipation shivering through his rapidly heating body.

“You doubt it?” Trunks raised an eyebrow in challenge, twisting his upper body towards Gohan, a hand darting out to taunt an already hardening nipple in flirtatious invitation.

“No, and since your thoughts woke me up to tell me just how much you like me out of control, who am I to argue?” Gohan’s voice rumbled from deep in his chest, a gleam in his eyes, as he swiftly set himself to the task of tantalizing Trunks, embracing his youthful soul mate tightly, his lips plundering without reserve.

Trunks was momentarily stunned by the blatant, forceful hunger in this assault, but quickly recovered, enthusiastic to join in their private erotic dance. Without reserve he surrendered to the heated fervor of his lover’s touch, stroking Gohan’s shoulders and chest as he returned the same ardor that was being lavished upon his own body with his lips, teeth and tongue, anywhere that he was able to reach.

Gohan moved too low for Trunks to taunt with loving nips before he had his fill of his lover’s skin. Infernos erupted throughout Trunks’ nerve endings as Gohan caressed, nipped, suckled and licked his way down Trunks torso, tracking a well traveled, and now intimately known pathway to his destination.

Gohan was merciless in his assault on the younger demi-Saiyajin’s body, quickly reducing Trunks to a quivering mass of need and longing. Trunks was already incoherently pleading for more intimate possession as Gohan prepared him for his entry. Gohan didn’t have to put much effort into the endeavor, as Trunks was blatantly turned on by his every advance and insatiable for more exquisite erotic contact.

As he slipped inside Trunks’ velvety heat, Gohan was shaken by the almost violent manner in which Trunks arched his back to more fully accommodate his entry. A cry erupted from Trunks’ throat, a heady combination of raw, carnal demand and wanton entreaty that incited Gohan to plunge his shaft into his nubile lover’s body with ever increasing fervor.

Trunks met each thrust with his own sensual counters, an arm reaching back to pull Gohan’s lips to his own, wrapping a leg over Gohan’s hip, trying to draw him ever deeper, as their tongues dueled for dominance within each other’s mouths. With quick surety, Gohan pulled the limber youth and himself into a sitting position, exposing their sweat drenched bodies to the cool morning air, and as yet unseen, shocked eyes.

The two demi-Saiyajins moved in perfect time with each other, harsh, broken, panted mewling becoming the only coherent sound Trunks was capable of making in this new position, as his head leaned back against Gohan’s shoulder, giving complete access to his long, slender, sensitive neck and bare shoulders, as well as making exploitable every spot that Gohan had previously learned enthralled Trunks, which he pursued with relentless adoration, as well as seeking out new erogenous zones along Trunks shoulder blades, finding new places to nip and tease with very satisfactory results.

Trunks clung to Gohan with one hand on a thickly muscled thigh, his other arm bent back so that he could cup the side of his lover’s face in a reverse embrace as he leaned back against Gohan’s powerful chest. The riptide of sensations that overloaded his lithe form made it impossible to do more than cling to the solid physique behind him whose hands firmly grasping his hips, guided him over the precipice of ecstasy. The intensity of Trunks release acted as a catalyst that drug Gohan into the same rapturous oblivion as they both shuddered, crying out each others names.

***

ChiChi sat on a large boulder in the ravine, eyes staring blindly at nothing, along the edge of the clear babbling brook, as she tried to absorb the full import of the images still burning in her mind’s eye. She had backed away, dazed and in denial, when she had entered the ravine, searching for the source of the outcry that had caught her attention less than half an hour earlier, only to become an unwilling witness to her son, and Bulma’s, making passionate love to each other.

ChiChi shivered in disgust as another outcry echoed off the crevasse walls, a blend of two voices united as one. She put her head in her hands, fighting off the tears of bitter betrayal that threatened to choke her. She drew on that all too familiar sense of self righteous rage that had seen her through so many hard times before to stop the tears, and force herself into action.

It was a rage based upon being left behind by her dead husband. It was fury born of all the times she had learned of her son’s disobedience in fighting with those two detestable machines that pretended to be humans. It was the resentment over Gohan’s lost chance to become the great scholar that she had always wanted him to become, combined with the ire she felt over the ruthless murders continually committed by those same androids, who had cost Gohan his future, in her eyes. ChiChi drew on her sense of bitterness and betrayal as well, forging these emotions as well with all of her hurt, loss, and grief, for the sole purpose of confronting her son about his vile deed. With renewed fire in her eyes, a snarl upon her lips, and a predator’s grace, she squared her shoulders, lifted her head, and stood up, a deadpan expression masking her thoughts, as she prepared to hike over to the granite outcropping and shelf that she had seen the two young men upon earlier.

***

“Blast it woman, would you hurry up already?” Vegeta’s ghost snapped at Bulma as she stumbled for the fifth time in as many minutes, trying to forge her way through the steep, rock cluttered, narrow walled passage that harbored the small main valley floor that Vegeta was so certain she’d find her son in.

“I’m not a spirit, nor do I fly, and if you call me ‘Woman’ one more time I’m going to find a way to make you pay for it, even if it kills me, you damned Jerk!” Bulma thundered back at the vaporous, blue wisp that glared at her impatiently from a few feet away, arms folded with that same classic hauteur that had so irritated and beguiled her in his lifetime, as it did still.

“Well it seems like I have to do everything for you even now!” Vegeta smirked as he vanished momentarily to re-coalesce right before Bulma’s startled nose. With a sure grip, as his upper body took on a more substantial shape, Vegeta pulled her up from her hands and knees, wrapped her up in his suddenly all to solid arms, and blasted up the arroyo before she could utter any sound.

They landed almost immediately inside of the valley, Vegeta panting and losing the solidity of form he had a moment before. Bulma watched in sorrow as his last phantom force quickly dissolved, a smirk on his face and a hollow, unearthly sounding “Keep yourself safe woman. I can wait for you a while longer. Our brat has to grow up some before you join me,” whispering in her ears.

Bulma looked up towards the sky speaking softly to his departed ghost in hopes that he just might be allowed to hear her parting words. “I know you used the last of your power to get me here on time. Thank you, Vegeta. Don’t worry, Trunks won’t get abandoned for a long time to come. I still have to make sure he’s settled and happy before I come looking for you in the afterlife. And I love too, you big jerk.” She grinned impishly as she called out her favorite pet name for her lost Saiyajin prince. Without any further hesitation, Bulma turned on heel and trotted down the valley floor, determined to handle ChiChi’s temper tantrum that was assured to come the moment she found out what their sons had been up to for the last couple of days.

***

Gohan and Trunks were curled up against each other, simply enjoying being together, when they heard a volatile shriek of a voice they both knew all too intimately in the distance. Trunks’ head whipped up at the same moment Gohan’s did. Both turned towards the main entrance to the small hidden valley with identical guilty looks on their faces.

“Oh man. That’s my mom out there, Gohan.” Trunks paled significantly as he spoke.

“Yeah, I thought I recognized the voice alright.” Gohan answered in return, dropping a quick kiss on Trunks’ brow before grabbing the teen’s clothes and tossing them to him. “Here’s your stuff. Let’s go and get cleaned up in the pool. If we hurry we should both be able to get cleaned up before she gets here with whoever it is that she’s with. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s my mother.”

Trunks nodded and jumped into the air without hesitation, moving rapidly towards the shallow pool, at the foot of the tiny falls, which blocked the tiny canyon off from the rest of the world, at it’s North- West edge.

Gohan sighed in resignation, grabbing his own garments, and their sleeping bag, which he was determined to clean up also, and took to the air immediately on the heels of his teenaged lover. He suppressed a knavish grin at the hentai thoughts whirling through his mind, as he eyed Trunks’ slender frame for the moment they were suspended in mid-air together. Images of prior love play in the water danced erotically across his mind, unedited and explicitly tantalizing.

A soft groan escaped before he could stifle it, gaining him a devious, backward glanced smirk from Trunks over the thoughts he couldn’t hide, even had he intended to. They had landed already, and tossed their clothing and the sleeping bag down, jumping into the cool water to quickly clean up before they were forced to leave their private hide away, as they both were convinced they would be made to do by their respective mothers.

Gohan knew that, although he might resent the fact that Bulma had come looking for her son, he would have done the same thing in her place. Gohan had to remind himself of Bulma’s right to be worried over Trunks constantly, as he fought hard against the erotic images flashing across his mind’s eye, while trying to get cleaned up and get the sleeping bag washed out in haste. With more than a few ideas whirling about his conscience that were definitely Trunks’s added handiwork, however, the exercise in self control was next to useless for the dark haired demi-Saiyajin. Trunks wasn’t about to allow for a temporary break in the mental link between them, and the ideas in Trunks’ head were primal, heady, libido rousing flits of fancy, tailored to delight his paramour’s sensitivities.

“Trunks.” Gohan ground out, trying to keep from succumbing to the horny teen’s telepathic imagery, “Not now damn it. We have company coming, remember?”

“I know, but I can’t help but think about it.” Trunks gave him a sassy grin. “Besides it’s not all my hentai mind acting up Gohan.” He snickered at the older demi-Saiyajin’s rapidly reddening cheeks.

“Alright, alright already. I know I’m not helping matters.” Gohan raised his hands up in the air as if surrendering. “I’ll behave if you’ll at least try to stop giving me too many ideas that I can’t do anything about right now. Deal?”

Trunks leveled a mischievous grin on his dark haired beloved and dropped beneath the surface of the water.

“Darn him.” Gohan groused with a shake of his head. He knew Trunks wasn’t about to make a promise to him that he had no intention of keeping. He tried to catch a glimpse of what Trunks was thinking of doing to catch him off-guard from under the cover of the rippling, swirling, churning waters.

He wasn’t able to get the information he wanted from Trunks mind before Trunks was upon him. With a quick gasp, Gohan went under as Trunks yanked his feet out from under him, using the momentum of gravity and the slippery rock to his advantage.

Gohan came up spluttering a moment later, intent on paying his young fair-haired beau back with a sound dunking or two of his own. He narrowed his eyes and locked in on Trunks’ ki, waiting until the submerged teenager was in easy striking range, moving with the incredible speed that only a super Saiyajin was capable of. He grabbed Trunks around the waist and hauled him up to the surface, levitating so that they were suspended high above the falls, then tossing Trunks into the pool below with force.

Trunks broke the surface, laughing. “Gee Gohan, what’s the matter? Don’t like getting your hair wet?” He teased, an impish grin teasing his full pouting lips.

“Hey turn about ‘Is’ fair play Trunks. You douse me, I douse you, only harder.” Gohan smirked back, his own chuckle floating away on the early afternoon breeze.

“Fine then I get a rematch.” Trunks shot up towards Gohan, still laughing.

“You’re way too slow Trunks.” Gohan quipped as he slipped to the side, years of fighting making the endeavor appear almost lazy in it’s execution.

“I may be slow, but I have a plan to help me dunk you but good this time.” Trunks darted back towards his mentor, clearly having fun. Hearing Gohan laughing without his near-perfect facade made Trunks thankful that he was alive at that moment.

ChiChi watched the laughing duo from close by. Her anger mounted as they battled in mid-air for supremacy over who was to be the dunked, and who was to be the one that insured the loser got thoroughly drenched. She had never seen Gohan act in such a childish manner and she was furious that he was ignoring his responsibilities for a tryst in a small canyon in the middle of nowhere while she and Bulma worried themselves sick over their respective sons.

She walked towards the pool a short distance away, noting that Trunks had dodged Gohan’s attempt to grab him, and was closing on his mentor from behind. He wrapped his legs around Gohan’s waist, as his arms went around Gohan’s shoulders. “I got’cha.”

“Yeah and what do you think you’re going to do now?” Gohan turned his head, still smiling at this rare glimpse into Trunks’ nature. He was enjoying this happy-go-lucky-devilish side, which so rarely surfaced. His young counterpart was often serious, and this rare glimpse of what he might have been like, if the androids had never surfaced, gave Gohan a momentary twinge of deep regret that he hadn’t been able to defeat his most hated enemies years before, freeing Trunks to be the happy kid he should have been.

Trunks nipped his ear sensually in reply, sending shivers shooting through Gohan’s body and inflaming the newly kindled hunger he had only just begun to accept as his own. “Trunks?!” Gohan floundered in mid-air as Trunks teased the sensitive spots on his neck with his tongue.

“You were saying?” Trunks whispered, after exciting a groan from his lover.

“Mmmmmnn. I can’t think …. when you do….. that…. Trunks.” Gohan gasped out in between clenched teeth as Trunks tormented him with delightful caresses, nibbles and kisses.

“Who wants to think when we could be doing other things?” Trunks wicked toned purr tickled his ear, and destroyed the last shreds of coherent thought that Gohan had managed to hang on to before.

With a quick motion, he landed lightly on a large rock outcropping that framed the falls. He reached around to grasp Trunks’ arm and pull him into a position where he could kiss him with all the ravenous hunger that was clawing at his groin once more.

Trunks evaded him with a soft giggle, dropping to the ground, and running his hands along the older man’s ribs, tracing a path from between Gohan’s shoulder-blades, and down his spine with lips and tongue, tracing erotic patterns ever lower on Gohan’s body.

Gohan was panting by the time Trunks reached the nub of scar tissue where Gohan’s tail had been. He understood just how sensitive the area just above their tail scars were, and was quick to take advantage of the highly titillating spot. Gohan’s knees buckled, as Trunks had known they would, when he ran gentle fingers across the supersensitive flesh. Trunks’ hand on Gohan’s hips steadied him as he sank down, trembling.

***

ChiChi was shocked by the things she was witnessing. Her son was being seduced by Bulma’s son instead of her son doing the seducing as she had assumed earlier was the sole case. Trunks was taking the lead in their love play, even though he was a fourteen year old.

Chichi was having as difficult time reconciling the unfolding events happening before her eyes. She would have thought it impossible for a fourteen year old to seduce a grown man, yet here was Trunks doing so, and quite efficiently it seemed. The fact that he was Bulma’s son, and he had been born outside of wedlock, gave ChiChi one more thing to add to her overly long list of things to detest about her dead husband’s cliché of friends.

ChiChi was certain that all of Gokou’s friends had lacked manners early in their marriage, but she had hoped that Bulma Briefs would have taught Trunks to behave in a better manner. ChiChi was unwittingly powering up in a blaze of fury, as she stormed forward, bent on putting an end to what she considered an inappropriate and very unnatural situation.

***

“Son Gohan! How could you?” ChiChi screamed at her son, eyes flashing murderous intentions at her grown son as she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the duo on the other side of the pool.

“Yipes!” Gohan jumped as if he had been shot with a teaser gun on high voltage. He ducked his head, cringing from the tone in his mother’s voice, wincing guiltily as she glared at him from across the small oasis that he and Trunks had been enjoying the tranquility of for the past two days.

“Uh mom, just calm down.” Gohan tried to forestall the explosion that he saw forth coming. He moved at top speed, scooping up his and Trunks clothing, and leaping back to the shelf that Trunks was sitting on blushing furiously as Gohan’s mother glared daggers of icy venom at him.

When Gohan handed him his clothes, Trunks dove into them as fast as he could, without destroying them in his haste. Gohan was also quick to put on his pants, though he was more concerned with calming his mother’s fury than with his shirt, and so abandoned his young paramour to try and calm his screaming mother down while Trunks finished dressing.

Gohan had decided the moment he had heard, and seen his mother that he would take the full blame for anything that she might think about what she had plainly seen with her own eyes. Trunks was far too young for him by most people’s standards, even if Trunks had reached the legal age of consent by the books. Most youths didn’t actually follow up on the right to consent for another year or two. Those who did, usually chose other youths in their age range, not adults that were nine years older. He knew that his mother was thinking along those lines as she scowled at him with disgust evident in her expression.

“I thought that I had taught you better than to do something despicable like this Gohan! Where on earth did you learn this kind of sick, …” She slashed a hand in Trunks direction, who had landed beside Gohan, head lowered, as subdued by the verbal assault Gohan was taking from his mother, as if he were the only one at fault in this uncomfortable situation. “… depraved andinexcusable behavior from? Was it that bald old hentai Roshi, or that nut case Krillin when you went to Namek?” ChiChi continued haranguing her son at the top of her lungs.

“Mom, Krillin and Master Roshi never did anything sick, or depraved in the time I knew them. They were father’s friends. You should know better than most that they all died trying to save our world from the Androids, so don’t you dare disrespect Krillin around me.” Gohan didn’t raise his voice, but the tone he used was almost as frigid as ChiChi’s.

“Well someone taught you two some pretty twisted things, and I know it sure as hell wasn’t me that taught you to sleep with another man, much less a boy!” The black haired termagant shot back, red fire shimmering around her body as she continued to power up, her ire growing with every word she said. “Maybe it was that green demon freak that stole you from me when you were a baby. You never did say much about what happened in the year you were gone. You made it sound like he basically tossed you in the middle of nowhere with a sword and told you learn to rough it or starve.”

Gohan’s jaw twitched in anger. He fought down the urge to break something violently over this latest spate of vitriol that his mother was unloading on Piccolo’s memory. “You’re dead wrong about Piccolo and always were. You always judged him by the color of his skin, and your anger at his trying to teach me to fight so we had a descent chance to save this world, and you know it as well as I do.”

Bulma dog trotted into view at that moment, sweat drenched, rumpled sweat shirt showing that she had been in a very big rush to get to the group before the fireworks really got started. “ChiChi, stop.” Bulma bellowed at her long time friend, and at one time, fiercest rival. Blue hair hung in damp wisps that had escaped her pony tail. She panted, trying to get enough air to blurt out the information she needed to tell ChiChi before the headstrong brunette did something that would provoke Gohan into a killing spree in defense of her son.

Bulma was quick to note the unusual narrow eyed stare that Son Gohan had locked on his mother, an unheard of thing for the young man. He would normally have been shaking in his shoes, had he been wearing any.

“Don’t you dare tell me to stop Bulma. You have no idea what was going on here when I arrived or you’d be trying to kill these two with your bare hands yourself” ChiChi snapped in outrage at being given an order by her older friend.

“If it’s what I think is happening then I am not only not stupid enough to get myself killed by interfering, I’m going to do everything in my power to shut you up and get you out of here before you set your son off and get a lot of people killed, starting with yourself!” Bulma shouted back at her friend, trying to override her screeching tone.

“Excuse me but I doubt that! These two were having … They were in bed together Bulma! They were in plain site actually. Ooooohh! You know what I’m saying!” The rage in ChiChi’s tone was maniacal.

“So what? You mean that they are imprinted to each other as Vegeta called it.” Bulma shot back, hands on her hips, brows furrowed in a thunderous expression that would have done the Saiyajin No Oji proud, as she stood over the shorter woman, teeth bared in challenge.

“Whaa…?” ChiChi looked at her, repulsed by the idea that Vegeta might have had anything to do with what was happening before her eyes.

Bulma gave her no time to recover as she barked at the shorter woman as fast and furious as she was capable of. “That’s right ChiChi. It’s a trait our husbands carried with them on a genetic level and both of our kids got the genetics for imprinting.” She gasped for breath and continued rapid fire as ChiChi’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Gokou found someone that was strong enough to fit the imprint criteria when he fought with you at the tournament. Vegeta had already lost the person he was imprinted to before he came to Earth the first time. Since he grown when his energy sharing imprint partner died he didn’t have to find another one. That didn’t mean that he never shifted energy to others though. He shifted a lot of it with me while he was alive. It’s a survival requirement of the Saiyajin species.” Bulma was feeling light headed and oddly detached as she spoke. Her tone was almost trancelike, or more like a text book recitation she didn’t remember reading any pages from.

She remembered the few moments when Vegeta had materialized fully to move her through the canyon mouth at breakneck speed and the light-headed, tingling sensation that had slammed through her for a split second as she had been held air borne in his solid, yet spectral arms. With a sudden insight as she continued her barrage of information hurling, Bulma knew beyond doubt that Vegeta had made her an expert on Saiyajin biology somehow, without having uttered a word aloud.

“Wait a minute, Bulma.” ChiChi threw up her arms in a desperate attempt to slow the blue haired scientist down before she became so hopelessly lost that she would never be capable of untangling her thoughts for all the rapid-fire words that were slapping her in the face, without getting comprehended.

“SHUT-UP!” She shrieked so loudly that the canyon walls reverberated with the high pitched tone, loosening rocks in some places.

Bulma stopped, taking the moment of dead silence to get a breath of air into her starved lungs, watching the brunette who stood inside of an energy aura that hummed ominously. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I can’t believe you Bulma Briefs. Our sons are having sex, and all you can come up with is some crazy excuse about energy trading.?” ChiChi’s voice had dropped from the high pitched scream she had been hurling upon the heads of the two demi-Saiyajins standing off to the side. It was now a low thrumming snarl after the painful pitch it had reached before.

“You may not realize it ChiChi, but I bet if I wanted to get really graphic and embarrass you so badly that you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of your life, I could explain things in terms you might just be able to understand. It’s not my fault that Gokou was the only man you ever slept with! If you hadn’t been a perfect little virgin bride you might have realized that there is a huge difference between a human and a Saiyajin when it comes to how they perform in bed for one thing!” Bulma spat out, teeth clenched as she tried to force her dark haired nemesis to listen to her.

“Oh sure, that’s some advice coming from a hussy like you!” ChiChi whirled away from the taller woman and leveled her eyes on Trunks and Gohan once more. “Well I see how this all came about. Like mother, like son.” The scathing tone dropped Bulma’s jaw in astonished outrage. In two sentences ChiChi had just declared war on Trunks, without even realizing how lethal a mistake that would prove to be.

“I am no hussy! I only knew two men in my life you purist prude! It’s not my fault Yamacha wouldn’t agree to getting married!” Bulma fought the urge to throttle ChiChi as she forced herself to concentrate on the more important matter at hand. “Look at Gohan real close ChiChi. Tell me that he’s acting like his normal self if you can? You don’t believe me. He’ll kill you if you even think anything stupid that might make Trunks worry.” Bulma fought down her first instinct to slap ChiChi as hard as she could.

“Don’t try to tell me about my son, Bulma. I think I know him better than you ever could!” She turned her head away from the blue haired woman who was so desperately trying to stop her from doing what she believed was best for Gohan, removing him from the situation and insuring that he never had another moment alone with the lavender haired youth who was tempting him.

She noted in a detached corner of her mind that Gohan was watching her every move with an unusual intensity, but dismissed it being part his ever present, deeply ingrained, respectful nature. A look at Trunks, with the same detached corner of her mind, and she admitted silently, that in his own fashion, Trunks was a very lovely youth, and could entice many into his bed if he so chose with ease. ChiChi noticed that Trunks was holding onto Gohan’s hand, almost as if he were restraining him somehow, but banished the thought as ridiculous as quickly as the thought surfaced.

Trunks held tight to Gohan’s hand, pale faced, yet strangely fascinated that his mother knew so much about his father. All of the things she was saying were things which she had never shared with him. It was strange to think that his father had loved someone before his mother. He had been startled by his mother’s declaration that there were vast differences in Human and Saiyajin lovers as well. He had never thought of his mother as having had a sex life before his father had entered the picture, even though he had known that she had been dating Yamacha for a long time before his father had even come to Earth.

Trunks felt the strange way that Gohan was reacting to his mother. He worried about his lover more than he worried about his own safety. He knew that Gohan was in control of himself for now, but he sensed the undercurrents of primal possessiveness that lay underneath the surface of Gohan’s steely disciplined calm. He held onto Gohan’s hand trying to give him added calm, but knowing he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

The thoughts were whirling through Trunks’ head at breakneck speed over the information that his mother had just divulged about imprinting, among the rest of the jumble of facts that she had spouted so quickly. If what she said was from his father, who knew about Saiyajin biology, then he and Gohan were acting in a Saiyajin fashion, based on some form of chemical reaction. His stomach twisted in a knot. He didn’t like that answer. He knew he had feelings for Gohan that were anything but biological in nature.

The biology aspect could explain why he couldn’t get enough of being with Gohan, but it had nothing to do with how he felt. He had felt this way for far too long for genetics to be solely responsible as his mother had made it sound. In short, she wasn’t happy about his being involved with Gohan either, but at least she had found a way to cope with it. He knew that she had chosen to try and find some happy medium, and that involved removing Gohan’s mother from the picture as quickly and peacefully as she could.

Gohan felt as if he were being caged. He didn’t like the feeling. He heard what Bulma said and was aware of everything Trunks thought about the information. He was also aware of how malicious his mother’s fury could be. He had felt the bite of her power when he was a young boy and the black water had been released on the planet by Garlic Jr.

Gohan knew how useless it was to argue with her when ChiChi was furious. Gohan also knew that she was capable of doing damage to Trunks in the state of mind she was in. Gohan watched her carefully, scrutinizing her every move for the attack he knew instinctively would come, irregardless of how hard Bulma was trying to talk her out of venting her bitterness on Trunks or himself. He felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck, his own power levels rising slowly, even as Trunks hold upon his hand tightened sharply.

He still felt obligated to defend Bulma, Trunks and himself from her venomous, verbal assaults before he was forced to hurt anyone. Bulma was right that he would protect Trunks with every fiber of his body, he was shocked to realize as instinct forged it’s way to the surface, submerging his peaceful, loving side in a tidal-wave of over- protectiveness. “Mother, stop it and listen to yourself. You’re too mad and obviously hurt because I didn’t measure up to what you wanted. Take it out on me. Leave Trunks and Bulma alone. I’m the one you have the right to yell at, not them.” Gohan growled in a low tone at his enraged mother as she advanced once again on the younger of the duo, fists clenched in retribution.

She ignored Gohan all together as she stalked Trunks, animosity rippling off her in palpable waves of heat. “You will never get the chance to mess up my Gohan’s head again you little slut.” ChiChi hissed quietly. Trunks winced at the words, but he never got the chance to defend himself as ChiChi lunged, murderous intent lending her power, normally far beyond her limitations.

The kick she delivered to Trunks’ chest knocked him off his feet, winding him. His face had barely registered his surprise before she was on him again, a well aimed fist heading for his throat to deliver a death blow to his windpipe. Instinct saved him as he dodged the oncoming blow, staring in drop jawed amazement at the woman he had called aunt as long as he could remember. He couldn’t attack Gohan’s mother in return without hurting Gohan, he reminded himself sternly, as he rolled once more, gaining his feet as he went. He fought to keep calm and rational, and to convey that he was alright to the man he adored so that Gohan wouldn’t do something that he would regret later.

Trunks crouched in a defensive posture, trying to simply avoid the crazed woman until she had a chance to calm down and return to a more stable mental state, where they could reason with her. He was frightened almost witless, however, when Gohan jumped into the fray, a look so savage upon the older man’s normally handsome face that Trunks barely recognized him. Trunks fell back a few paces trying to conquer his sudden, irrational fear. The possessive, feral emotions that Gohan radiated were deadly expectancy, fused with dark instinctual intention to kill that was so forceful and cruel, Trunks could barely reconcile the emotions with the man he knew and adored.

Something dark, dangerous, possessive and primal had erupted from Gohan’s subconscious, taking over swiftly before he had recognized it’s ungovernable nature for what it actually was. He was caught off guard by these radical instincts as surely as if he had regrown his tail and gazed upon the full moon once again, as he moved between ChiChi and Trunks, menace in every taut line of his body. Eerie super Saiyajin green flickered in the depths of his charcoal eyes, as a low, violence laden growl rumbled up from deep in his chest.

He crouched in a classical battle ready stance before his mother, all civility, and obedience gone, in the wake of his instinctual response to the perceived threat to Trunks’ life. There was no rationality left in Gohan’s eyes as he stalked ChiChi, who suddenly froze in complete shock at having her own son turn on her so ruthlessly and without the slightest hint of remorse or recognition of who she was clearly evident in his mannerisms.

Bulma’s words slammed through her like a jolt of lightning. “Look at Gohan real close ChiChi. Tell me that he’s acting like his normal self if you can? You don’t believe me. He’ll kill you if you even think anything stupid that might make Trunks worry.”

Bulma swallowed her terror, moving forward, talking softly with every step she took as she grabbed onto ChiChi’s arm. Cold dread skittered up and down her spine as she tried to calm Gohan’s building primal rage with soothing words meant to disarm the innate response to the attack on Trunks moments before. Death watched her in the form of Gohan’s eyes. He hadn’t transformed yet, but Bulma could sense the immanent turning point in Gohan’s power levels like a physical blow to her psyche. She had never felt anything like this from the happy go lucky young man she had known since he was four years old.

She had witnessed the Super Saiyajin Transformation on several occasions. She had seen Son Gokou in the Super Saiyajin State, Vegeta, when she had almost been killed by the android attacks on Capsule Corporation, and Gohan’s first change, as well as others during his lone solitary war with the fiendish machines. She would never have guessed the full extent of what Gohan was capable of doing if she hadn’t witnessed it first hand.

Bulma stood paralyzed, as she noted that something was vastly different with Gohan’s transformation. She intuitively understood that this was nothing like anything Gohan had ever done before, as she watched him closely, terror giving her a deer caught in onrushing headlights stare. The flickers of green in his once dark eyes, had become rapid flashes that burst outward, flickering like lightning, then receded with alarming speed. The chocolate colored orbs she knew so well had vanished in a white, emerald lined glow, suggesting an effect that reminded her of super heated metal, such as she had seen in factories that her father had once taken her to as a small child.

Small, jagged bolts of bue-black electricity crackled about the heavily muscled demi-Saiyajin, and vanished as quickly as the green flickers of color that surfaced in his white-hot, glowing, pupil less eyes. Where energy flared about him, his body rippled with muscles that bulged, shifted, then receded back to their normal size, only to expand rapidly once again.

His spiky black locks, stiffened by his radiant power, was somehow growing longer, and if possible, darker hued Bulma’s mind screamed at her, as she fought to keep talking through the constriction in her throat. She was positive that she was going to die, and she couldn’t help but wonder in a vague, disjointed part of her mind, why Vegeta had waited so long to come to her with the information about imprinting.

Had she known about this imprinting requirement long before the actual occurrence could happen so that she could have prepared ChiChi for the eventuality of losing her son, temporarily, or for long term duration, to her own son, another demi-Saiyajin, who was powerful enough to accept and give the kind of energy that their systems required when they were younger.

Having been deprived of such strong imprinting partners when younger, Gohan might in fact have been stunted in his development of power potential, or even in some ways, control of any hidden aspects of his power if there were deeply hidden wellsprings that hadn’t previously awoken before his beginning to imprint with Trunks. She hoped that those moments of exceptional power that he had shown in the past, had nothing to do with such hidden and unknown sources of power, as the realization that losing control as a Super Saiyajin could meant he destruction of Gohan, and everyone close by, including Trunks, herself and ChiChi.

These thoughts flitted across Bulma’s mind as she tried to soothe the black haired demi-Saiyajin with whatever words she could find. “Please Gohan you have got to calm down. Think of Trunks if nothing else.” Bulma pleaded with as gentle a tone as she could manage considering how badly her terror made her voice shake. “You know it would hurt him to see you kill your own mother or me over this. You don’t want that Gohan. You two need each other and I understand that. You’re mother will just have to learn to comprehend that you two have to be together, and she needs time so please let’s all calm down and talk this over like rational, mature people.”

Trunks had gained control over the fear that had settled in his gut. He could feel the uncontrolled nature of the power up Gohan was undergoing, and the black raging of emotions that had been suppressed for the sum of his life. How many times over Gohan had submitted to his mother’s overwhelming need to control his life, Trunks wasn’t certain, but it had led to this moment of explosive, pent up frustration, long forced into dormancy.

“Gohan you have to listen to my mother.” Trunks tried to unsuccessfully gain his paramour’s fierce attention from the objects of his stalking.

“Trunks, be careful please.” Bulma spoke as softly and soothingly as before, yet her tone carried her distinct and overwhelming concern for his safety. “You are the most likely to be able to calm him down son. I just hope that you can do so quickly or we are all toast here.”

“What on earth has gotten into my son?” ChiChi asked ghostly pale, her voice a thready whisper of uncomprehending horror at what was happening.

“He’s acting out of instinct Chichi. The dominant, older aged Saiyajin will always protect the younger, and weaker of the imprinting pair. Once they are fully imprinted it isn’t like this. It’s during the first few weeks that you have to stay out of their way and pray to whatever Gods you believe in that they won’t find any reason to get bitchy with you or anyone else.” Bulma muttered under her breath, for ChiChi’s ears alone.

The salt and pepper haired woman looked over at her older compatriot, stepping back a few steps and taking up a battle ready stance against the green haired scientist, anger blazing in her eyes once more as she hissed with menacing bite, “Well why didn’t you warn me about this a long time ago. I might not have tried to break the two of them up if I had known what to expect here, you know.”

“It wouldn’t have done any good to have warned you even if I had known, ChiChi. You wouldn’t have listened and probably would have thrown an identical fit to the one you’ve had today!” Bulma unthinking of her situation snarled back with equal malice in her voice. She thrust her hands upon her hips, glaring daggers at the younger woman, heedless of the consequences as she fumed over the injustice of having to bear the brunt of her own thoughts, in the form of ChiChi’s accusations.

“What do you mean you didn’t know? If you didn’t know, then how on earth is it that you’re suddenly such an expert on the topic of what’s happening here then?” ChiChi’s fists swept up into a fighter’s ready position, palms facing up, in a classic stance.

“Look I don’t have time to try and explain this right now damn you! So knock it off chiChi before you get us both killed!” Bulma attempted to refocus on the dark haired Saiyajin who had grown considerably larger muscled, and had changed in several obvious physical ways. Before She could do more than note the thicker jaw line, heavier frame, as if his bones had thickened, and heavy muscled mass, ChiChi decided to feint dead away, as she too looked over at her son’s blatant semi-shape changed form.

Bulma was startled out of her preoccupied battle of wills and verbal assaults by ChiChi’s dead feint. She tried to rouse the younger woman, who’s strange glowing reddish hued energy had dissipated from around her when she fell. She sighed in a shallow relief as ChiChi moaned, trying to come around under the influence of the light slaps that Bulma was administering to her cheeks, in the hope of gaining Chichi’s rapid response to the mild abuse to her face.

ChiChi looked up, groggy, eyes rapidly widening in dawning hysteria as they both heard an ominous high pitched cracking, followed almost instantly by a rapidly swelling, deep rumbling as the canyon walls began disintegrating under the pressure of Gohan’s power. There was no place to go for either woman, as neither one could fly, nor had the machinery at hand to escape through the air even had they tried.

Bulma didn’t have to look up towards the area ChiChi’s eyes had already disclosed that the rock was coming at them from. She thought only to cover her head, and pray for a miracle as she used her body to cover over ChiChi’s in a selfless act. It was an action that would never have occurred to her when she was younger, but which had become natural to her in this Android tormented world, as the rock came crashing down.

Trunks moved as fast as he could to try and get to his mother and Gohan’s before the rock could hit them. The two elderly women would be crushed easily by the huge boulders that had broken from the fissures caused by too much of Gohan’s power slamming into their ancient edifices. Those boulders were big enough to do major damage to him, Trunks realized as he flashed through the air, dropping to the side of both women, forcing his own Ki to the maximum he could, trying to brace for the worst impact he would probably every feel in his lifetime.

As he grabbed his mother’s arm, not worrying about whether he broke bone, or dislocated her shoulder in his haste, grabbing as best he could for aunt ChiChi as well. He figured better that she lived and hated him for the rest of his life, than to let her die, causing Gohan a great deal of remorse and grief that he wouldn’t need added to the already immense burdens he insisted on carrying on his broad shoulders.

Trunks had ChiChi’s arm, but hadn’t gotten more than 5 feet off the ground with both women, before the first rock slammed into his left shoulder, with a hellish impact. He wobbled in the air, but managed to stay in flight, trying to focus his Ki into a blast above his head that would clear a desperate path to clear sky above him.

In a strange twist of fate, ChiChi and Bulma, both pulled up as close to his body as he could get them, while trying to zip out from under the avalanche trying to entomb them, were his lifeline, as his anger blazed up at the thought of failing to save the two women, gave him extra energy to throw at the huge chunks of stone that sought to pummel them into oblivion. Among the twisting nightmarish moments of Trunks’ attempted ascent, ChiChi’s arm lock slipped, a large projectile, slamming into his elbow, numbing the arm holding her.

ChiChi tumbled towards the ground, helpless, screaming in panic as the large pieces of canyon wall hurtled towards her, even as she was about to crash amongst the first shrapnel to have hit the canyon floor. Trunks couldn’t allow ChiChi’s death, and turned sharply, diving, Bulma still under arm, trying to reach ChiChi in time, and praying he wasn’t making the biggest miscalculation in his life by doing so.

His mother had said that Gohan was reacting instinctively to protect him from ChiChi’s anger. He hoped that the instinct to protect would extend to getting him out of the mess he was now willingly plunging himself deeper into, instead of getting his mother, aunt ChiChi, and himself killed in a moment of stupidity. “Grab her mom, my arm’s useless.” he shouted as the two rocketed towards the free falling woman.

Bulma’s arm lunged out towards ChiChi, who reached up to grab the proffered arm, gritted teeth the sign of her determination not to lose consciousness in the midst of their plummeting descent amidst the rockslide.

A howl of fury shook the canyon, as black lightning cracked across the trio, deadly in it’s concussions against the strata of flying rock. Trunks sighed in relief mentally, even as he slowed their descent, his mother now gripping ChiChi’s hand in her small fist, both women groaning under the strain to their shoulders as Trunks jerked to a stop amidst the flying debris.

Trunks had to stifle a scream of agony as a bolt of the flaring black energy flashed across his own Ki shield, slipping under his guard, and slicing down from his lower shoulder blade, to partially encircle his waist, like the fiery kiss of a bullwhip. He knew he had to get all three of them out of the canyon and now. There was no time left to worry about Gohan’s welfare, as the older demi-Saiyajin was blasting off enough energy to reduce half the planet to rubble Trunks was sure.

A part of his teenaged mind tried to grasp the immensity of the power he felt radiating like a miasma off of Gohan, and wondered why his lover had never shown this kind of force when he fought with the androids. Gohan could in fact destroy them with little enough effort if he allowed himself to channel this kind of power at them.

The other part of his mind shuddered at the darkness and wrongness that he sensed and thanked whatever Gods had seen fit to make Gohan the self control obsessed person that he was normally. The amount of collateral damage that the canyon was undergoing was enough to make Trunks think of the potential destruction that a city would undergo if Gohan were to use this kind of power, especially as vile as it was.

Trunks flashed up towards the top of the Canyon walls praying he could get himself and his two precious burdens out of the canyon before Gohan completely came unglued. He flitted between the boulders, and as much of the falling debris as he could under the circumstances. The things he couldn’t avoid, he tried to blast apart before they could make contact.

He wasn’t perfectly successful, but he did manage well enough for all that his wounded arm wasn’t very good at focusing his Ki attacks, but he made due with the limitations, as it wouldn’t support weight of any kind at that moment and he had to hang on to his mother, which required the use of his only good arm.

Although what transpired had only taken a few short moments, Trunks felt as if an eternity had flashed before his eyes, from the moment the first cracking sounds had begun to tickle his sensces several minutes before their mothers’ had heard the first ominous rumbles, until he broke from under the last of the sharp rocks that fell to the tiny valley floor below.

Trunks made a rapid dash for the nearest solid ground, well back from the continuing crumbling canyon walls. He put Bulma down who still had ChiChi gripped tightly by the arm. He was in shock, but he couldn’t stop to think about it as he took in the blood stained side of ChiChi’s face with heavy remorse and a growing sense of guilt and horror. If she were dead, Gohan would never forgive himself and would become all the more determined to fight his Saiyajin ancestry.

Trunks knew Gohan would also go out of his way to try and make up for his loss of control by becoming even more obsessive in his self control, possibly locking himself away in such a manner that he would never again be able to get past those internal barriers which Gohan had ever kept his anger and frustration and other negative emotions locked up inside. Trunks looked over towards the quickly rising blackish blue hued bubble of energy that was now detonating against the rocks, ripping them out of the ground and pulverizing them with such ease that Trunks stomach clenched in apprehension.

Had Gohan continued to power up even more? He wondered as he stood, bloody, in a state of semi-shock, panting for breath as he watched narrow eyed at the blue black bolts of energy that flared and retreated with a chilling high pitched whine. He swiped his arm across his drenched forehead, grimacing at the bloody mess that greeted his eyes when he lowered his arm. He would worry about his wounds later. He had to try and stop Gohan before his power got any more out of control.

Trunks dug deep into the core of his being, gnashed his teeth in a mutinous snarl and leapt towards the cliff edge, determined to finish this mess on a calmer note even if it killed him. “Trunks! Nooo!” He heard his mother scream in anguish as he hurtled forward, hoping that he could help Gohan get control again. He didn’t have time to worry about his mother’s attempts to be overprotective of him at the moment. He was part Saiyajin, and was far more powerful than she or anyone else, besides Gohan, could ever be.

He met Gohan just as he made it to the cliff’s edge. Gohan hadn’t been powering up further, merely floating slowly upwards, the internal struggle to regain control over his instinctual rage clearly defined in the ever shifting expressions that flitted across his visage. The act of destroying the worst of the boulders that had been reigning down on Trunks and his two passengers had been the instinct and the man both reacting to pressures from within to protect the ones he loved.

Trunks had already suffered a mild taste of the power that was snaking around Gohan’s form, and wasn’t looking forward to the white hot lash of that power ripping into his body again, but he drew a deep steadying breath and moved in anyway. “Gohan stop! You have to stop now or you’ll destroy yourself and possibly the whole planet.” The bellowed command was almost drowned out by the thundering shrill of power radiating about Gohan’s body.

Trunks hand reached out, grasping Gohan’s shoulder, trying to make himself understood, as agony cut through his frame. He fought the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him, back down, concentrating everything he could find within himself to the task of helping Gohan get control of the long suppressed rage, frustration and primal instinct that had been denied expression for so long. His mind collided with the pure unadulterated animal hate and fury at being potentially thwarted in his choice of mates.

Years of denial of what he felt, and what he needed to feel whole and complete lashed outward on a current of blazing darkness, seeking revenge against everything and everyone who had ever stifled him. The same dark unacknowledged hatred and rage that was now fully awake and utterly obsessed with protecting the one claim that Gohan couldn’t give up.

Trunks was stunned at the depth in which Gohan’s feelings about him ran. He had never realized how much of an influence he had become in Gohan’s life, if only from his presence bringing some semblance of happiness to the older man. He was also stunned to gain a clear vision of himself as being the center of Gohan’s real dominant motivation for his ongoing, if losing war against the androids. Gohan’s need to save everything to insure that he would have a chance to be happy pole axed the younger Saiyajin.

Gohan had never even admitted to himself that he had been fighting to insure Trunks happiness. He had denied all that he had felt, which he had been taught was less than perfect conduct, until the damn had exploded with a flying kick and an unsuccessful punch volley that ChiChi had failed to deliver to his lavender haired lover’s throat. He had been in denial about many things, including the true nature of his deeper power levels, which he had avoided unleashing out of sheer terror of losing control.

Gohan’s fears had been founded, Trunks knew, shuddering as he focused on helping his dark haired teacher, friend and lover regain control over those dark forces that churned and whipped around their two forms, as Trunks fought the hammering of Gohan’s out of control power with his own brightly hued, but meager, Ki shield.

“Gohan let me help you. We can get control of this if you’ll just stop fighting it and let me help you!” Trunks wasn’t sure if he had yelled out loud, or if he had simply thrown the words at his drowning paramour’s mind, but he knew that either way Gohan had heard him by the other demi-Saiyajin’s reaction. An almost peaceful look graced the dark haired man’s lips for a moment, before being swallowed up by the blatant pain inside of his mind, which Trunks own pain was exacerbating, as Gohan’s black aura took it’s toll on the youth’s rapidly dwindling resources.

In a desperate effort to draw Gohan out of the rage that was consuming him, Trunks melded his lips to Gohan’s, sending out in his emotions all the love he held for the other within himself, hoping that it would save Gohan from this dark wave of energy that threatened to destroy his body as well as his mind.

For a silent, eternal moment, nothing happened, and Trunks began to fear that he wasn’t going to be able to reach the one he loved through all the years of pent up vexation, and inhibitions that had finally reared their heads with such volcanic fury. It took a moment for Trunks to realize that Gohan was tentatively returning the gesture when the older man’s lips began to slowly return the caress.

The black fires raging around Gohan’s body began to lighten, shrinking, as Gohan’s arms gently wrapped around his young lover’s waist, eliciting a sharp, muffled yelp of pain from Trunks, as the open wound and blistered edged surface that Gohan’s lightning bolts had raised across his back made contact with Gohan’s salty skin.

The last of the fire and black miasma vanished from around Gohan, who quickly lowered them both to the ground, panting at the exertion of so much power. His dark features, rapidly shifted back to normal, his face losing the feral snarl of bestial wildness that had so frightened Trunks moments before. Gohan’s face was aghast at the condition Trunks was in, as he looked over the many bleeding gashes, and blisters that Trunks was covered in.

“My Gods, Trunks are you ok?” the unsteady whisper, quivered with depths of emotions that Gohan would not normally have allowed to lace his voice.

“Only if you will be, my own.” the answer was soft as Trunks lifted his good arm and cupped Gohan’s chin in his palm. “I’m always alright so long as I know you’re ok, or hadn’t you figured that out yet?” He smirked at his wide eyed beau, ignoring the pain he was in.

Bulma didn’t move as she watched the bi-play between the two men, cradling ChiChi’s unconscious head in her arms, praying that the other woman would survive the ordeal that they had just gone through. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she looked from the two men now collapsed in a tangle of limbs not far from her, to her new burden, who was bleeding even more profusely than her own son.

Bulma knew she had plenty of shallow gashes, bruises and lumps of her own to tend to, but she needed to see to those who were in worse shape than herself first. She had seen the large sharp projectile that had slashed into ChiChi’s temple, as her son had fought to get them out of the barrage of powdered rock and sharp splinters of rock that Gohan’s power, combined with Trunks own attempted Ki attacks had reduced the huge mass of boulders that had been hurtling towards them, down to.

She hoped that ChiChi would have better sense than to ever push Gohan into a corner again, if she made it through the next forty eight hours. It was obvious that the younger woman was in bad shape, and Bulma wasn’t very hopeful for her younger contemporary awakening for several days, if she ever awoke again.

With a ragged breath, Bulma slowly moved herself out from under the still, lifeless looking form, and grabbed her box of capsules out of her pant’s pocket, hoping that in the insanity of evading an avalanche as well as a super angry, Super Saiyajin, of a form she never wished to see again, that the dinocaps had managed to survive in tact.

She drew a deep breath and clicked the top of the canister, tossing it away from her body, a silent plea on her lips, as the capsule exploded into a medicine kit. She unleashed the postponed breath she had been holding, moving forward on shaking legs to retrieve the things she would need to fix the horrible head wound ChiChi had taken during the last few seconds of their ascent to clear air. It would be a long night once she got ChiChi back to the Capsule Corp infirmary.

***

[One month later…]

Gohan stood quietly beside the casket, looking down upon his mother’s peaceful face. His Saiyajin instincts, and internal rage had killed her, even if he hadn’t actually touched her in any way. The power that he had unleashed without intention had reduced the little valley that he and Trunks had been residing in, to little more than a jumble of pebbles and powdered sand.

It had been the flying rock that had killed his mother ultimately. A shard had lodged itself in her temple, the tissues around the area slowly swelling until the shard had been forced deeper into her skull, ripping apart tissue and veins. There hadn’t been anyone capable of removing the sharp edged granite stone from her skull, and so they had watched and waited for her to give up the fight for her life, slowly and after a very stubborn battle of silent will, that he would not soon forget. She had lingered in a coma for a little more than a month before giving up the battle. Even in dying, she hadn’t gone down easily. Gohan’s shoulders shook as the full brunt of all that had transpired slapped him once more in the face.

Hind sight is always twenty-twenty had never held such poignant meaning as it did now for the twenty-two year old demi-Saiyajin, as he looked at his mother for the last time he’d ever see her in this world. He silently vowed to make certain that he never unleashed his hidden abilities once more, as he had been vowing almost daily since the tragic day in the valley had unfolded. Tears of silent remorse slipped down his cheek, emotional exhaustion giving his face an unusual pallor.

Trunks’ fingers snaked through his, giving him emotional support as the images flickered and danced through Gohan’s mind of every minute detail of that day’s horrible turn of events. Nobody had blamed Gohan for his reactions, and Trunks had even reminded him that ChiChi’s forcing him to be what he wasn’t was the root of a lot of the uncontrollable nature that had slammed through all of his long maintained walls of control, destroying his ability to choose how he reacted in a moment of blind fury.

His grandfather, Ox king moved up beside the two younger men, putting a reassuring hand on Gohan’s shoulder, “Gohan I know that look. Chichi is happy now. She’s with Gokou, so please don’t blame yourself. She was miserable after your father died, and I think she’s probably a lot happier now that she can be where she wanted to be all along.”

“I killed my own mother, grandpa.” Gohan’s eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at the huge bull of a man who watched him sympathetically. “I didn’t mean to, but in the end, it was my insanity, my loss of control that caused her death.”

He looked at his shorter, lean bodied comforter, fresh pink skin from newly healed wounds, an all too blatant reminder of how close he had come to killing Trunks and Bulma. They hadn’t completely faded from the desperate battle he had waged to get both of their mothers out of the collapsing canyon. “Trunks tried to save her, while I stood by and let them all down.”

“No Gohan. You saved all three of us by destroying a bunch of the boulders that would have killed all three of us. I’m the one that failed. ChiChi would be ok if I hadn’t lost my grip on her arm. My control over my ki isn’t very good yet which didn’t help me blast a big enough path out of the avalanche either.” Trunks ducked his head, ashamed that he hadn’t been quick enough, or powerful enough to stop ChiChi from dying in the end.

Gohan’s arm wrapped around his young lover in an equally consoling embrace as they stepped back from the grave site, allowing the pall bearers to lower the lid, sealing it shut. With a final look at the lovely flower wreaths that were sitting upon the casket’s cover, Gohan turned his head away, unable to watch as they lowered his mother into the ground beside his father.

“I hope that you’re right. I know she’s back with dad at least. That should make it a little bit easier for her to forgive me some day.”

“Don’t worry Gohan. I know she will. You just wait and see.” Trunks flashed a sad smile up at Gohan’s sorrow filled face. “For now let’s just go home and try to get our lives back together. We have a long time to be here Gohan.” Trunks tried to lighten the guilt that surrounded his soul mate in a haze of depression.

Gohan wasn’t suicidal, but he had been extremely quiet, and only with a lot of effort on his part, could Trunks gain a ghost of a smile from his live in beloved. Now that ChiChi was gone, grandpa Ox, and Gohan would be permanent residents at Capsule Corp. thanks to his mother’s bullying of the two despondent men.

Trunks felt a twinge of guilt at feeling a momentary jab of euphoria from knowing that he wouldn’t have to give up Gohan at night, or any time soon, if he could manage to prevent it. They still had to tackle the androids, and survive long enough to kill them once and for all. He just hoped that the next time they met with the vile maniacal machines, Gohan was up to the task, and not still depressed over his mother’s loss.

Bulma walked over, taking Ox by the arm, signaling Trunks to take flight for home. With a gentle tug on Gohan’s arm, Trunks pulled Gohan into the air, heading for home, where he could curl up with him, and ease the grief of this day’s sorrowful events.

Author’s Notes: ['text' ] = telepathic conversations. “text” = regular dialogue. ‘text’ = private thoughts.

*****

Three men sat in high backed wing chairs, speaking in quiet tones, drinking from gem- encrusted mugs. The room was quiet, except for their soft speech. Fire light danced across their faces, one pale, childlike in stature and features, one mature, care worn and swarthy, dark eyes hooded to hide the sensitivity that the huge red skinned giant tried hard to hide, one who kept his identity hidden behind dark sunglasses, denim jeans, jacket and a flowing white moustache and beard. Each being was unique, and power clogged the room in palpable waves as they carried on their urgent conversation.

“I’m telling you both, that man’s miserable here. He’s not gonna be happy until he knows the kid’s happy. It’s like a kind of obsession with him. I don’t think he’ll be cool until he’s face to face with the kid and can see for himself that he’s doing alright.” rasped the denim clad, bearded, occupant, to the left of the fireplace.

“I see. Well, it’s true that we are quite impressed with all of their abilities, but things haven’t been to our liking, concerning this situation, any more than they have been to your own.” The childlike, lavender skinned imp answered, his voice a clear melodic counterpoint to the rougher edged sound of his companion.

“You can’t just start changing things because someone isn’t happy here. And furthermore, the one he’s concerned about isn’t a kid anymore. He happens to be a grown man in his own right. You would probably have to go through Enma, since he is the one who sent you this particular fighter several years ago, with his new body, and he may not wish for this one to be released after his part in stopping the demon uprisings.” rumbled the giant who sat close by, looking pensive.

“Hey, Enma agreed that they all deserved to be rewarded for their fabulous job of taking the horde down, and stuffin’ ‘em back in the hole they broke out of. He shouldn’t have a problem with losing one of them for a few years. Lets just tell him that the only way to fulfil this one’s request is to send him back for good.”

“It occurs to me that this case has several loop holes that might provide for a true resurrection of this individual. He has a considerable amount of unfinished business that would give leverage for us to return him, even without consulting King Enma.”

“You can use the Rebirth Gate in the attic upstairs. It’s designed to resolve unfinished business requirements, and he can keep an eye on the kid, the way he wants to.” the denim clad speaker, advised with a smirk.

“The gate requires two parties to operate it correctly. We would have to find someone in the living world who was willing to pull him back into the living world. That requires a great deal of love and adoration. It also requires the willingness to sacrifice one’s own life if required. It’s not necessarily the best option. If the young man he’s concerned over dies, then his unfinished business also goes unresolved, making the gate you wish to use irrelevant to the cause.” The imp’s eyes were sombre as he glared at the hippie who sat across from him.

“Master, what about the reward that his father asked for? Wouldn’t that be the perfect solution? It seems to me that in this case someone very close to them both is going to transition to this side in a few days, already. Wouldn’t it be easier to have them reverse places? We wouldn’t have to supply a new body for the woman, when she arrives, if the gate was used to bring her over. I can easily return her youth to her once she makes it to this side, and her husband can pull her over here, while the youth pulls his son to the other side, resolving both problems with one action.”

“I hadn’t thought of that! Kibbito, you are a genius!” the petite man’s impish grin was back, and brighter than ever.

“Let’s get to working on this right away. I’ll speak to both, father and son, and confirm that it’s a viable solution. You two get the Gate from the attic and make sure it’s still working. Once we know if the gate works after so long unused, Kibbito can go speak to those concerned in the living world about what is required. With luck we can have everything in place within the week.”

“Yes, Master.” both men replied in unison, standing to see to the small man’s requests.

***

Trunks pushed up from the floor, propelling himself with his finger tips, “One thousand, one hundred, ninety eight…..” The gravity room he’d asked his mother to build, based on his father’s, during his stay in the past, had been one of his regular routine workout areas since its completion. Trunks knew that he was the last defence his world had, and he wasn’t going to get caught napping, if trouble ever returned to earth.

Bulma had finished it five months before, and he worked out in the large chamber four days a week, outdoors, on the other three. As had become her habit, Bulma banged on the door at three pm sharp, as she did every afternoon. “Time’s up, Trunks! Come out and be a part of the real world for the afternoon!” The muffled demand made Trunks grin, jumping up to turn off the gravity machine.

“I’ll be there in a minute, mom.” Trunks grabbed his towel off of the wall wrack, and swiped it across his sweat drenched face. Once his vision was cleared of the stinging liquid, he headed for the door, towel draped with careless abandon about his neck. He left the gravity room, squinting into the early afternoon sunlight, considering the ever growing number of high rise buildings that were being built in every direction around his home.

Since he had destroyed the Androids, people had flocked to his community, seeking to be close to their hero’s location, in the event that danger ever returned. Apartment complexes were going up every day, as new pilgrims moved from other parts of the planet seeking peace of mind. His presence gave them that, even if it did nothing for him. His eyes adjusted to the bright outdoors, and he turned towards the house, thinking to get something to drink after his five hours of maintenance work, sit-ups, push-ups, and other similar exercises.

“I can see why people wish to live close to here. You are a very dedicated young fighter. Are you not?” A deep bass voice spoke, and Trunks whirled to his left seeking the intruder, crouching instinctively in a defensive stance. A red skinned, giant, dressed in flowing robes and over sized pants leaned on the side of the gravity room, a leg folded carelessly over his other, relaxing with his arms crossed in a dismissive fashion across his chest. He had a stern, care worn face, and white hair. His posture was commanding even in his current position and Trunks mind screamed that this was a man to be wary of if it came to blows.

“Who are you? And how did you get onto the property?” His voice was gruff with mistrust as he looked the stranger over.

“My name is Kibbito. As to how I got here? You aren’t the only person who knows the art of flight.” He pointed a lazy finger towards the heavens as he spoke the last comment, a smile relieving some of the harshness of his features.

“I see. So exactly what is your purpose in visiting me, then?” Trunks straightened, still guarded, but curious.

“You are Trunks Vegeta Briefs. Son of Vegeta, Saiyan Prince, And Bulma Briefs. You were trained initially by Son Gohan. You are the destroyer of those abominations known as Androids 17 and 18. You have travelled space and time, into other dimensions, and have died as well as been resurrected during those journeys. You furthered your studies under others during your many adventures to those other time lines and places. You are considered to be the last hope of this world. And you are utterly miserable because of it. Did I miss anything?”

“Wha…? No, How do you know all of this?” Trunks looked alarmed as he watched the red skinned giant push off from the gravity room wall, taking two steps closer, his hands going behind his back in a militant fashion.

“I know everything I desire to know. It’s part of my job description. One can’t do their job correctly if they have no information, now can they?” One white eye brow raised in silent query. Trunks nodded his head in agreement, mute with shock. “As I was saying, you feel miserable. I’m here to correct that situation for you.” The stranger’s voice trailed off with a meaningful glance at Trunks, giving the lavender haired warrior pause to wonder if anything about himself was private any longer.

“How exactly do you propose to make my life less… miserable? I don’t doubt that you believe you have some great answer, but if you’re about to offer me some girl that you just happen to think is perfect for me, or something equally crazy, I can already tell you that you wasted your time.” Trunks snapped, jittery in the man’s presence.

“Don’t underestimate the proposition I have, until after you have heard it. Deal?”

“Fine. We can talk in the house. I need to get a drink after training for the last few hours anyway.” Trunks turned on his heel and walked across the lawn, muscles rippling with restrained energy and vitality.

“Fine. I’ll explain everything, as I had already planned, once we get you into a seated position.” the giant agreed gruffly.

“Why not right here?” Trunks demanded, looking a bit nervous.

“Because what I have to tell you is liable to stun you, that’s why.” He bellowed at his lavender haired antagonist. [I believe I see why his mentor misses him so much. Too bad Gohan has no idea how, truly grown, his young student is, now.] a sly smile danced on the stranger’s lips, as his thoughts were transmitted to his master. He watched Trunks predatory graceful movements, as he followed a few paces behind, allowing his impressions to filter through the telepathic link he had with the Supreme Kai.

[Kibbito, stop being such a hentaï. You know very well that only his mentor can decide whether they would be a ‘cute couple' as your thinking. Unfortunate for you, Gohan very well might become jealous if he had any idea what you're thoughts are regarding his student's bottom. You are correct about his having grown up though, Kibbito. I think that this may well prove to be a better reward for Gohan than either of us initially thought, considering everything you are showing me.] Kibbito fought the urge to cough in embarrassment as tell tale bluish tones flashed across his high cheekbones.

[I'll keep that in mind, Master. I don't wish to infuriate our own Otherworld Hero. After all, he, Gokou and Vegeta did quite a lot of good recently.]

[Indeed. Isn't that why we're doing this?] Kibbito smiled at the laughter he heard in the Supreme Kai’s thoughts.

[I thought you were agreeing to our scheme because I can't stand to see such deep emotion being wasted on unnecessary misery.] Kibbito flashed down the link with a mental smirk.

[Is it just you, Kibbito, or are all Kais in the Love pantheon such softies?] Supreme Kai’s tone caused Kibbito to roll his eyes in exasperation. He almost walked into the object of his telepathic conversation, stopping just a few inches from Trunks, who had paused to open the back door. Trunks flashed him a startled look, as Kibbito grabbed onto the door, a transparent attempt at recovery, in Trunks’ opinion, and pulled it farther open, motioning Trunks to move on with a gruff hand motion and a stern stare.

Trunks was accustomed to receiving unwanted attention from men and women. The thought that this stranger was paying too much attention to his ass, currently encased in his Saiyajin fighting tights made him uncomfortable. Trunks didn’t think about his affect on others very often, at least not concerning his looks, but at the moment, he found himself wishing he wasn’t, ‘sexy as hell’ as most singles in the area, dubbed him, especially not when a man, obviously much older than himself, was concerned.

[Careful Kibbito. No drooling allowed. You're on business, remember?] Supreme Kai was amused by his close encounter, and Kibbito blushed violent scarlet at the images Supreme Kai baited him with.

Trunks glided into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses, and proceeded to the refrigerator, commandeered a bottle of juice from the shelf, stalking back to the kitchen table, irritated that this stranger knew so much about him. Trunks pulled a chair out from the table, after sitting the glasses and juice down, motioning for the older man to seat himself as well. He poured both of them a drink then proceeded to broach the subject. “So, talk already. I want to know exactly who you are, and how you know so much about me!” he demanded, raising his own glass to his lips.

Kibbito sighed in resignation. “You are as hot headed as that father of yours, Trunks. Why are all of the Saiyajins so easily riled, I’d really love to know.”

Trunks choked on his drink. “What? How do you know my father? And what do you mean by that last crack anyway?”

“I am the full time companion, and aide, to the Supreme Kai, so show some respect mortal. I know you have the right to answers, but you are being too impatient. Now if you would be so kind as to shut up and let me speak, perhaps I can answer your questions!” Kibbito snapped at the attractive, lavender haired man sitting across from him.

Trunks’ jaw dropped, his blue eyes registering his disbelief. He suddenly understood why the giant had demanded that he be sitting before explanations were given. “You mean I’ve been…?” Trunks voice trailed off, thought unfinished.

“Yes, you’ve been making demands of a Kai, with the same hot headed temper that your ill mannered father displays so frequently from hell. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been instrumental in putting down the Demon uprisings we recently had, restoring order, and being so indispensable to King Enma and the rest of us, I’d personally strangle that arrogant pain in the neck.” Kibbito informed his listener.

“Uhhm.. Sorry. I had no idea that….” Trunks stammered, his face on fire over his transgression.

“I am aware that you didn’t know you were in the presence of a Kai, which is why I’ll forgive your bad manners.” Kibbito huffed. “Now, as for why I am here. Supreme Kai was highly impressed with Son Gohan, Son Gokou, and the Prince no Oji’s recent exploits, and so offered each a boon as a reward.”

“Gohan was in the middle of a demon war?” Trunks yelped, apprehensive.

“Yes, he was in a major war recently. No, Gohan was not harmed, nor your father, or his, in putting down the demon scum. Now, can I continue?” Kibbito glowered at the impetuous young man who sat, squirming in his seat as the older man ticked off his answers with his fingers before Trunks could voice the questions that crowded his mind.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Trunks fiddled with his empty glass, grabbing the juice bottle and pouring another drink to occupy his hands.

“Prince Vegeta said that he wanted you, and your mother to be happy, and that he would like to spend some time with your mother, after she dies of course, in a neutral place. He was offered a chance to leave hell, but opted to stay and pay for his crimes, so that he could keep things orderly, which has gained the Supreme Kai’s good wishes. He will indeed be given a chance to spend time with your mother once she transitions because of his choice to sacrifice his chance to leave Hell.” Kibbito pushed his juice glass towards the silent youth, who rapidly refilled it.

After taking a long drink, Kibbito resumed his tale, “Son Gohan’s request was to help you find peace and happiness. We had to monitor your thoughts, feelings, and dreams to find the answer to his request.” Kibbito gave him a knowing smirk, as Trunks face flushed with heat.

Trunks whispered “So, you know then. Does,….. Gohan, … know,… about,…… I mean…, you know?” Trunks ducked his head, drawing designs in the condensation on his glass, as he waited for the reply.

“We told him that you couldn’t move beyond his death. I believe he has surmised the real reason behind your continued mourning, which is why we can bring him back. He has unfinished business to attend to. Which brings me to the reason I’m here. We require your help.”

“You can bring him back? How? My help? What can I do? I mean You’re a god, aren’t you?” Trunks flipped his bangs out of his eyes. His obvious excitement and surprise making it difficult for Kibbito to maintain his stern expression in the face of such child like awe.

“Even Gods have limits imposed upon them. It preserves natural order, and balance.” Kibbito lectured. “We need someone who loves Gohan a great deal to help return him to this world, meaning you.” Kibbito pointed a knarled finger at Trunks. “Gohan requested that we help you find peace, and happiness. He hasn’t rested since arriving in the Otherworld. King Enma decided to send him to Grand Kai’s training grounds in a new body, since Gohan wouldn’t find any peace if he were sent to Heaven. He’s incapable of letting go of certain ties to this world.”

Trunks swallowed hard as Kibbito’s words sank in. “What do you mean, Gohan can’t let go? Is he worried about ChiChi? I’ve done everything I can to look out for her and Grandpa Ox.”

“He’s concerned about his mother, but knows that she is transitioning in a few days, to join his father.”

“What? Aunt ChiChi is going to die?” Trunks looked disturbed by the news.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. She is actually content to leave here, since Gokou requested that she be given a youthful body, that she can be with him in Otherworld, as his reward.”

“So, what do you need me to do to help bring Gohan back?”

“Number one, get a full length mirror, approximately twelve feet tall, seven feet wide, and oval shaped. Number two, you need to tell Gohan how you feel so he will understand how important it is for him to return to life, and you have to help pull him through the gateway.”

Trunks’ baffled expression greeted this news. “A full length mirror?”

“Yes. We must use mirrors to create the Rebirth Gateway.”

“Ok, I think I can arrange that…..,”

“You will have to come with me for a few hours, and explain to Gohan exactly why you can’t get past his death. After that, you will have three days to get the mirror in the assigned place, and be ready to pull Gohan through. Supreme Kai will explain things once we arrive. Bring a change of clothes if you like. You can spend the evening, and muddle your way through your task. Oh, and that type of outfit wouldn’t be a bad choice in helping convince him, if you know what I mean?” Kibbito grinned openly at the disconcerted countenance of the handsome young man sitting across from him. “I told you before it’s part of my job description. I’m what you call, a, ‘Cupid,’ of sorts.” The giant smirked at Trunks baffled expression.

“Do you really think he’s going to listen and accept,… I mean, he always looked at me as being a kid brother! If I tell him what I feel,………, what if he’s not,…., he might not be happy about, …. I mean,…. I can’t just,…, uhmmm,…., you know?!” Trunks scratched his head, trying to find words to express his worries, eyes downcast.

Kibbito chuckled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Gohan has some interesting dreams about you, just as you dream about him.” Kibbito’s eyes danced, as he watched Trunks’ reaction. Trunks’ eyes darkened to a vibrant peacock-blue, boring into his guest, sparkling with renewed hope.

“You mean….,,??” Trunks jumped up, flustered. “He’s,….? ….. You’re sure,… ????” He paced across the kitchen, returning to stand in front of Kibbito, eyes pleading for reassurance. Kibbito nodded in affirmation, a grin tugging at his lips. Trunks whirled towards the doorway that led to his room, “Oh man I’ve gotta get a shower, and ,…” only to turn at the doorway, using the door jam to yank himself back into the kitchen area, “You’re not joking with me right…?”

“Go get ready. I’ll come back within the hour. Be ready!” Trunks nodded a vigorous affirmative. Kibbito grinned, shooing the exultant demi-Saiyajin away, phasing out before Trunks could think of anything else to reply.

***

Trunks fears vanished with Kibbito’s mystical departure. He raced to his room, grabbing clean clothes, before bolting into the bathroom. He showered and dressed in record time, ecstatic that he was about to see Gohan again. Trunks almost careened into his mother in his haste to get to his room to retrieve his boots so he would be ready on time. “Excuse me, mom. I’ve gotta get ready.” He scooted past, still running a comb through his damp hair.

Bulma squeaked in indignation at her son’s bedevilling rampage through the house, upset over being cut off in such a fashion. She had been heading towards her own bathroom to remove the grease smudging her hands and face, from the invention she had been fine tuning all morning.

“Trunks where do you think you’re going in such a rush? Hey, you, where’s the wildfire?” Bulma yelled, bringing him to a skidding halt in his doorway.

“I can’t explain it all right now, mom. Just trust me, I’ll try to explain what I can before I have to go.” He vanished into his room, returning in an instant, trying to put his shoes on without breaking stride.

“Trunks, this had better be good. I haven’t seen you act this strange since you used to sneak off with Gohan to train!” Her hand was rooted to her hip, which was thrust at an angle, blocking his escape.

“Mom, I just found out that Gohan can come back. He did something for the Kais and they are giving him a way to return for good. But I have to do something for the person who was just here, or he won’t be able to come back.” Trunks words tumbled from his lips as he skipped in place, getting his right shoe on, buckling the strap in place.

“What? How?” Bulma tried to slow her son down, and get answers, giving up, when he gave her a fast, hard hug, and kiss on the cheek, before charging towards the kitchen. He whirled just before leaving the hallway behind and tossed over his shoulder, a breathless, “Oh. Almost forgot. Mom, we need a mirror, approximately twelve feet tall, seven feet wide, oval if possible, before three days is up. Can you get one for me? I’ll be back soon. It may be in the morning, or late tonight, I’m not sure yet. I have to go talk to Gohan. So don’t wait up for me.” His footsteps quickly faded, followed by the back door slamming as he left the house, post haste.

Bulma stood with her hand on her hip, looking perplexed. “That boy. I swear, he must get it from his father!” She turned on her heel, throwing her hands in the air in disgust, and headed towards her quarters once more, stopping dead in her tracks as his words registered, “Off to talk to Gohan?? What does he mean, off to talk to Gohan. He can’t talk to Gohan. Gohan’s dead.” Bulma wheeled, racing towards the back door, bursting into the yard in time to see a red skinned giant place a hand on her son’s shoulder, both vanishing in a flash of brilliant light.

“One twelve foot tall, by seven feet wide, oval mirror coming right up, Trunks.” Bulma quipped, her tone touched with awe. She hurried inside to start making phone calls.

***

Trunks stood before the fireplace in Grand Kai’s spacious library. His stomach was a multitude of knots, and fluttering butterflies, as he waited for Gohan’s arrival. He had to force himself to stand still, fighting the impulse to pace like a caged tiger. Anxiety and excitement warred for control of his emotions, as he looked into the flickering light cast by the fire before him.

Supreme Kai watched the byplay of emotions on the young man’s face, noting Trunks’ angular, stubborn jaw, and wide set, expressive eyes. Trunks looked over at the petite God who was watching him so closely. “Sir, uhm, is there,…, something, you wanted to say,…., or something?” Trunks asked, dropping his eyes in a manner that almost qualified as demure, thanks to the refined bone structure of his face.

“Actually I was just contemplating Gohan’s reaction once he arrives. You see, he still has a mental image of the unpolished youngster, you once were, stuck in his memories. I believe he will be quite stunned by how you have changed in recent years. Not many men turn out as well as you have, you see.” the Supreme Kai wore a mischievous grin on his face, as he informed the fidgeting demi-Saiyajin, of his opinion.

Kibbito opened the well oiled door on silent hinges, beckoning him to precede him into the room. The giant watched as Gohan halted a few steps inside the doorway, eyes drawn to Trunks as if by a magnet. The dark haired demi-Saiyajin stood rooted to the spot, silent, intently watching the young man who was unaware of their presence. The man Trunks had become, was shyly speaking to the two Kais, occasionally worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, as he listened to their comments. He often flicked his hair out of his eyes as he spoke in soft tones, replying to their questions, and comments in a hesitant manner.

Crimson stained Trunks’ cheekbones, in a becoming manner, at the Supreme Kai’s assessment, which Kibbito and Gohan had arrived in time to hear. “Oh? Yeah, I was kind of wondering if he would even recognise me.” Trunks ran a hand through his shoulder length mane. He hadn’t bothered getting a haircut recently, avoiding everyone while he fought with fits of severe depression, and harsh flashbacks that haunted him. “I was a lot shorter the last time he saw me.” he shrugged his broad shoulders, unwittingly flexing powerful, hard sculpted muscles that he had acquired in his extreme training in recent years.

Gohan appeared to notice that Trunks had retained his expressive features, which had become more angular as he matured. It was Trunks’ borderline scowl, and hard eyed stare that Kibbito was sure had disturbed Gohan, judging by his reaction, as the Cupid minded God watched the dark haired warrior clench his hands into fists.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s cool. He’s gonna be mighty glad to see you. Gohan might be a bit speechless for a minute, with you being all grown up now, but you’ve got nothing to get uptight over. You’ll see.” Grand Kai informed Trunks as he sauntered over, handing him a glass, in a companionable manner.

Trunks smiled his gratitude as he tried to re-adjust his ideals about Kais, to include the eccentric nature of the unusual Kai who stood in front of him. Trunks hadn’t considered that Kais could be informal of dress and attitude as Grand Kai was, and was continually dumbfounded by the hippie styled deity.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, … , and the drink also, Sir.” Trunks ducked his head, out of habit, unconscious of the graceful way he moved, and embarrassed by both Kais blunt remarks.

“Trunks, I think you’ll find out that you have nothing to be embarrassed about once you and Gohan have a chance to sit down and talk. He does care a great deal about your wellbeing. Have faith in him, as well as yourself.” Supreme Kai advised from the high backed chair he had taken after introductions had been made by Kibbito.

“I do have faith in Gohan. I have all the faith in the world in him, honest.” Trunks eyes snapped with sapphire fire. His sincerity was real, as was his upset in having been accused of lacking faith in his mentor.

“I am aware that you have a great deal of respect and faith in Gohan in most things, but your lack of faith in whether he will approve of what you have become is what I am referring to in this matter.” Shin stood and walked over, smiling gently at the uncertainty that flickered on Trunks face. “You are a deep person, who is reserved with others. Still, it’s easy to see why Gohan holds you in such high esteem, even with so much time having passed in the world of the living. I think you will find that Gohan will be very pleased with you, now that you’re grown, Trunks.”

“I hope so.” Trunks voice was soft, thrumming with tension, and fervent yearning, the words carried to Gohan, and Kibbito where they stood, several feet away.

“Does he ever really smile?” Gohan whispered.

“Not often, and it doesn’t appear to reach his eyes when he does. I see that you noticed his serious demeanour.” Kibbito replied in hushed tones. Gohan closed his eyes, pained by the news.

Trunks head jerked up at the sound of Kibbito’s quiet reply. The giant Kai’s voice carried, though he had not intended it to. Gohan’s pained expression was the first thing Trunks noticed about his beloved mentor. “It’s my fault Kibbito. I shouldn’t have been so stupid that afternoon.” filtered to Trunks’ sensitive ears, from Gohan’s quiet comment to the red skinned, stern faced companion who stood next to him. “I should have turned away just like my dad’s been telling me since I got here.” Gohan drew in a heavy breath, his sadness a palpable blow to the three who stood beside the fireplace.

“Gohan, I see you’ve arrived.” Grand Kai addressed the tall, dark haired demi- Saiyajin who stood near the door.

Gohan’s eyes snapped open, focusing his attention on the group below. “Yes, Sir. I just walked in a moment ago. I figured I would let you finish your conversation without interrupting.”

“More like you were busy staring at Trunks, I seem to recall.” Kibbito spoke up, effectively cutting off any attempt on Gohan’s part to deny his reaction to seeing the younger man who stood a few feet away.

Gohan scratched his head, a sheepish grin evident. “Well he has changed a lot. I mean…, Wow, you’ve gotten almost as tall as I am, Trunks. I never expected you to get any taller than your mom. Er, I mean,…,” Gohan chuckled self depreciating.

“It’s ok, Gohan. I know what you’re trying to say. I think father was a bit surprised that I got so tall. In the other timeline I visited, I found out that he was a lot more compact than his father. When I asked my grandparents where my height came from, father said that his father, my other grandfather, was even taller than I am.” Gohan watched as Trunks dropped his eyes, bashful and blushing.

“I don’t believe it. Vegeta actually talking about his own family? And how many teeth did you yank to get that information?”

“I didn’t threaten him or anything. I guess he hated listening to the mom’s family trying to figure out which side was taller.” Trunks shrugged in a non committal fashion.

“Now that I can believe.” Gohan chuckled amicably. “It’s great to see you, Trunks.”

“Yeah. It’s great to see you too, Gohan. Trunks smiled shyly in return. Trunks took several steps towards Gohan, stopping halfway, as if asking if it was alright to approach any closer. Gohan met him there, in the centre of the library, both content to drink in the features of the other, neither willing to say aloud what their eyes conveyed, in front of their hosts.

Both were startled out of their silent perusals, when they heard heavy footfalls coming up beside them, Grand Kai humming a rock and roll tune as he walked up. “You cats need anything just yank that bell-pull, over there by the reading desk. My assistant will get you anything you need. We’re gonna go get some other business matters out of the way. So relax, kickback and get reacquainted as long as you like.” He turned to Trunks with a friendly clout on the shoulder. “You remember how to get to the guest room if you get tired?”

“Yes. Thanks for asking, and thanks again for allowing me to be here.”

Grand Kai chuckled warmly. “Kid, you’re alright. Help yourself to the snacks, and drinks I had brought in. And you’re welcome, on the invite. Who knows, some day you might just be coming out here to stay, and when that time comes I’m betting that I’ll have my hands full with keeping up with you, just like I have to work overtime to keep up with Gohan here, and his father. You Saiyajins are a trip. Glad your on the right side of the laws. Well, have fun and goodnight if I don’t see you before the morning you two.” He sauntered to the door, walking past Kibbito and the Supreme Kai, vanishing from sight.

“As our host says, enjoy your time together, with luck everything will be clear by morning. Let’s leave these two alone to catch up on old times, Kibbito.” the impish smile that played across Shin’s lips almost qualified as scandalous as he looked over at his assistant. Kibbito gave them both a knowing smirk, as if he and Supreme Kai Shin already knew the future, and were awaiting their pre-destined motions to be fulfilled that they could finish their project.

***

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the retreating duo, Gohan blurted out, “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” Gohan’s expression was sombre as he apologized for his death more than six years before.

“Huh? Why are you apologizing for what the Androids did, Gohan?” Trunks looked as confused as he sounded.

“If I hadn’t been so set on trying to buy those people time, I might not have gotten myself a one way ticket here. I screwed up because I was too angry to think straight. I didn’t have sense enough to back down and get out of there before they could really collect themselves. So I owe you a big apology.” He looked into Trunks’ blue-grey, ever changing eyes, observing how Trunks would react to his admission.

“There’s no need to apologize. I just would like to know why you knocked me out, Gohan. It was the only time you ever lied to me. You told me I could fight with you, and then, the next thing I knew, it was raining, and I tried to find you, but I was already too late. Just tell me,…, Why?” Trunks gaze was sharp, intense, searching his friend’s face, just as Gohan had, moments before, seeking answers.

“I couldn’t let them get close enough to hurt you. You were the biggest reason I didn’t give up, when they took my arm. You kept me going that first couple a months, Trunks. If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself for letting you get shredded the way they used to shred me.” Gohan’s dark eyes never wavered as he admitted his fears from long ago.

Gohan’s face took on a much more strained appearance as he confronted his student on the issue he felt compelled to ask about. “Trunks, the Kais told me that you refused to get past my death. Can you tell me why you haven’t moved on?” Gohan queried the lavender haired man who stood in front of him, hoping that this stranger, now his own age, was ready for the answers he had to give in return.

“Gohan, it’s not that I refused to get over anything. I can’t get rid of the empty feeling that hit me, the day you died. It just won’t go away. I don’t know why.” Trunks stalked over to the awaiting tray, refilling his glass. He wasn’t sure how to explain the emptiness that had almost engulfed him time and again, over the years. Yet, he felt compelled to try.

“All I know, Gohan, is that I woke up and it was just starting to rain. My head was pounding from the knot you put on my head, and I had this real bad feeling in my gut. I knew something was wrong involving you.” Gohan grabbed a drink of his own, taking a slow sip, listening to Trunks recounting of that long ago day.

“I was flying towards the ki blasts, trying to get there in time to give you back up, when this wave of intense pain washed over me. I fell out of the sky like a ball of lead. I hurt so bad I couldn’t think, and not because of the headache. My chest and gut were burning so badly, I couldn’t breathe. I must have blacked out from the agony I was in, but, I’m not real sure.”

Trunks looked down at the drink in his hand, shuddering, as he tried to find a way to continue the painful recollection. He turned, pacing the room, searching for words, worrying his bottom lip, halting before the fireplace, staring into the dancing firelight. “When I regained my senses, I had this overwhelming emptiness inside, and it was as if something had been yanked out and nothing could fill it up. I knew you were dead somehow, but at the same time I kept telling myself that I was imagining things. I told myself that you were probably in bad shape so I needed to get there and take you back to my home so we could get you patched up.”

Trunks expression was blank as he continued to stare into the flames, speaking in subdued tones, reliving the moment as he spoke. “I searched everywhere in the wreckage until I found you. You were sprawled, face down in a pool of blood and rainwater. They had blasted your internal organs to a pulp I was told later.” Trunks voice was strained as he relived the moments he spoke of.

Gohan interrupted Trunks, trying to help him remember where he was. It was obvious to the dark haired demi-Saiyajin that his fair haired counterpart was trapped in that long ago moment, unable to break away with ease. “Trunks, I know about that vacuum emptiness. I’ve felt it since I woke up on this side, Trunks. I assumed I was the only one who felt like I’d had a huge piece of myself ripped out of existence. I guess I was wrong.” Gohan sighed, running a hand across his face.

“Nothing gets rid of that empty vacuum sensation, Gohan. It just won’t go away. No matter what I do, it’s always there. When you died I thought it was losing the only person who understood me and my abilities that made me feel so empty for a few minutes. I thought I was just having some kind of numbness reaction. Then the truth hit me. You were the most important person in my life. You were everything to me.” Trunks closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he spoke of how important Gohan had been to him as a teenager, fighting to stay in control of his emotions. Gohan shivered in sympathy, as Trunks finished recounting his ordeal.

Gohan sat his glass down, walking towards the fireplace, determination lighting his features. Gohan wrapped an arm across Trunks’ chest, hoping to reassure him that he understood what the lavender haired demi-Saiyajin was attempting to convey. “Trunks? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, at least I will be in a few minutes.” He slammed the rest of his drink, setting the glass on the fireplace mantle, trying to buy time to reorganise his thoughts.

“Trunks, I didn’t realise that I had that much of an impact on your life. I was dreading the day when you’d say to me, ‘Hey Gohan I have a girlfriend to occupy my free time so I’ll see you later.’ I wasn’t looking forward to that.” Gohan rubbed the back of his neck, with his free hand, trying to explain his own fears, making it clear that he hadn’t known he held such importance to his student.

“You thought I’d bail on you?” Trunks head snapped around, trying to see Gohan’s expression, astonishment and anger warring for control.

Gohan shook his head, “No, I didn’t think you were going to bail on me. I just thought that you would meet someone, someday, and I wouldn’t be in your life as much anymore. You were growing up so fast, and I just thought that you’d outgrow the habit of hanging around me. It never occurred to me that you might have felt as much for me as I already felt for you. I thought you were too young to tell you that my feelings were changing, so I kept my mouth shut, thinking that, if you didn’t floor me with news of some girl later on, I’d try to find a way to tell you how I felt, when you were older, so I had a better chance of salvaging our friendship if my news freaked you out.” Trunks trembled under the arm Gohan wrapped around his shoulders, as he absorbed his words. Gohan smiled at the reaction his words engendered.

“I lost you, just as I was beginning to understand what I was feeling, so I didn’t get the chance to mention what I was experiencing. I lost everything worthwhile because you were gone, Gohan. All that I had left, was my need for revenge. As soon as the Androids were gone I didn’t even have that anymore.”

“I understand, Trunks. If I could, I’d make it all up to you. But I don’t think that’s possible after all this time.” Gohan rested his cheek against Trunks’ silky mane, breathing in the scent of Trunks hair, trying to console the sensitive young man, he adored, with his physical presence.

“Will you come back? Kibbito told me that they can bring you back if you want to return.”

“Did they tell you all the requirements for my chance to return?” Gohan wrapped his other arm around Trunks, tempted to drop the subject in case Trunks hadn’t been told what the Kais would be forced to do to get him back among the living.

“They said that you would have to have me pull you through a gate that was activated through mirrors, because I love you enough to make it possible to help you get back to our world.”

***

“They didn’t mention the price that the Rebirth Gate demands?”

“You mean with ChiChi trading places with you? Kibbito said that your mother was going to take your place here, so she could be with your dad, instead of dying and missing her best chance to have a body. Gohan?” Trunks whispered in alarm when he felt Gohan begin to withdraw.

“I’m not certain I can put her through that, even if she’s willing to do the trade off. It’s not fair to deprive her of her life just so I can return.” he looked away, guilt giving him a despondent air.

“You can’t say no! I won’t let you back out of this, even if it isn’t your idea of fair! What about all the years I’ve stood by a grave site and wished like hell that you hadn’t knocked me out? Or what about all the nights I’ve spent awake wondering if you would have survived if I had been there, Gohan? That’s not fair either! Why let Kibbito and the other Kais’ give me hope if you weren’t willing to make the trade? Why….?” Trunks ki shot up, anger skyrocketing, as he lost his voice in anguish. Gohan feared he’d become a super Saiyajin and destroy the Grand Kai’s library in a fit of emotional turmoil, sparked by his words.

He silenced the younger man before he could power up further. “Shh. Take it easy, Trunks! I know my mother is going to die in a few days, no matter what I say or do. I’m just not happy about the way things have to be done. That’s all. I’m not backing out. I’m just worried that I might not like things when I return. It’s been so long since I was alive. I mean, what if you find that you really don’t need me around anymore?”"

Trunks’ cheeks were damp with tears, as he fought for air, his eyes closed tight against the gut wrenching pain he experienced at the thought that he would be denied the chance to be with the one he loved yet again. “You can’t risk losing this chance to return, I mean…, why not trade places with her, unless she’s not willing?” Trunks found a ghostly remnant of his voice, demanding answers, the sound cracking like long forgotten parchment pages, memories long lost in the past, unveiled to diligent seekers, only to disintegrate under the strain of the most delicate touch, losing forever their precious reality to the unforgiving sands of time.

Gohan drew a deep breath, letting it out in an explosive sigh. “Listen to me, Trunks, Kibbito says that mother is willing to do the trade. I’m just worried that you might find me a big headache if I return, which could make my mother’s sacrifice meaningless. How do I know you won’t come to resent me being there?” Gohan shrugged his shoulders in a defeated manner.

Trunks anger and fear fled at the look on Gohan’s face. It was obvious that Gohan was hurting, his one chance to be happy just as uncertain for him as it was for Trunks. The walls Trunks had hastily erected against the pain of being forced to let Gohan go once again, shattered like ice that melts in the springtime, during a warm spring rain.

“Hey,Look at me, I know your mother will forgive anything so long as she knows you care. Besides, if your mother and father get to be together, isn’t it worth any risk? How’s that a wasted, or meaningless sacrifice, if she can be happy again, Gohan? he whispered, voice deadpan with emotional fatigue.

“I guess for my mother the risk wouldn’t be so bad, but, how do I know that you really want me to come back after that dirty trick I pulled on you that last time we were together. I am sorry I lied to you, Trunks. I’ve always regretted what I did.” Gohan’s soul bled in the depths of inky eyes, as he searched Trunks features, seeking any trace of possibility that his assessment might prove correct in Trunks expressive features, and finding nothing to keep his fear of eventual rejection alive.

“I do want you to come back, Gohan.” Trunks grabbed his arm, his heart radiating sincerity through the pearlised sheen of unshed tears that illuminated his eyes in the firelight, as he fervently tried to find the words that would make Gohan understand how desperate he was to have his lost beloved return to the world of the living. “I have a few things to show you, that I’ve learned since you’ve been gone. You’re the only person who really understands me damn it. What is there for me to do except train and wait for the next enemy to show up, even though I know I’ll be hoping I lose, if it means I don’t have to be alone any longer. You were what I fought so hard to become a Super Saiyajin for when you were alive, and I need you back to help me find a reason to keep going when I’m out of ideas. Can’t you understand that? I’m lost, and empty without you, Gohan.”

“You’re sure you could stand having me around? I might make you train even harder than you do now, just to see if your serious about my coming back.” Gohan teased, his own reticence gone as he accepted Trunks breathless, heart wrenching assurance of Trunks feelings having become as real as Gohan’s own, during their extended separation.

“If that’s what it takes to get you to come back, I’ll even let you win the first few rounds. Of course if you try and do anything stupid like knock me out so you can go fight alone again, I’ll just have to pound the dumb ideas out of your head.”

“Oh really? And who says you’d win if I decided to knock you out and go fight alone?” Gohan chuckled at the cock-sure way Trunks held his head, looking at him with a certainty that amused and intrigued the older demi-Saiyajin. “Well, I might just have a trick or two up my own sleeves. So we’ll just have to have a contest to see who’s got the slickest fighting manoeuvres these days, won’t we?”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, just as soon as you quit stalling and agree to come home for good.” Trunks smiled, the suppressed excitement reaching his eyes as he realised that Gohan would be returning home in the next few days. The smile he wore grew brighter, reaching his eyes, which softened dramatically, knowing that he would get to spend time with his most cherished companion again.

“How long are the Kai’s allowing you to stay, Trunks?” Gohan brushed long lavender bangs out of intense blue eyes as he watched their shifting hues flare with a kaleidoscope of enigmatic emotions he hadn’t noticed before.

“I have to return tomorrow morning.” Trunks looked down, his sorrow at his departure, palpable in the sudden silence.

“You have a place for the night?” Gohan watched the reactions of beautiful young man who had come to see him, wondering if he had enough nerve to say what he wanted to say.

“Yes, the Grand Kai showed me a rather spacious room that’s all mine for the evening. It’s got a bed that’s a bit too big for only one person.” Trunks gave him a long, meaningful look, allowing Gohan to take up the thinly veiled offer, or drop it as he chose.

Gohan returned the glance with a meaningful look of his own, wrapping both arms around the lithe young warrior, his former student had become, who stood with him, watching him with certainty, as his pale hair flared with silver in the firelight.

“Your looking rather sure of yourself suddenly. How come?” Gohan asked, a hint of suspicion lacing his tone.

“I just had a great idea as to how I may be able to make sure you don’t have second thoughts about coming back.”

“Oh, And what would this brilliant idea of yours be?” Gohan fought the urge to smile, pasting a patently false look of serious consideration on his features that gained him a sly chuckle from the man who stood within his loose embrace.

“Just this.” Trunks lips closed the distance, capturing Gohan’s. He felt Gohan’s response and deepened the kiss, allowing himself the luxury of divulging everything he lacked words to express, through action. The fire died down to quiet embers before the two broke apart, leaving the room with hands linked.

***

Trunks paced in front of the tall wood framed mirror, checking the angles to be certain he had it adjusted to the correct specifications he had been given the morning he had returned to the world of the living. Bulma and Ox King watched as the young warrior fidgeted with compass, tape measure and calculator for what seemed like the one- hundredth time in less than twenty minutes, though both refrained from making any comments about his nervous fidgeting.

ChiChi sat on a folding canvas chair, near the mirror, waiting for the first rays of the sun to illuminate the mirrors surface with its dazzling rays, heralding the opening of the Rebirth Gate that would reunite her with Gokou, and return her son to the world she had agreed to leave behind.

Trunks, glanced over at the salt and pepper haired lady that had so often proven a fierce tempered tower of strength over the years, dominating his life, whenever his mother temporarily gave up on extracting his obedience, in matters of importance. ChiChi gazed back, with an assessing eye, demanding his full attention without speaking. They held each other’s eyes for several long moments, communicating without words, both understanding for the first time, what the other thought, and felt, knowing that this morning heralded their final goodbyes in this world.

Trunks was hit by a wave of nostalgia, as his thoughts traipsed through many episodes in his life, where ChiChi had exerted life altering influences upon him, changing his personality for better, or worse, and helping to meld him into the person he had become. Trunks wished he knew words that would express his thanks to the woman who sat a few feet away, watching his movements with tired eyes, that were haunted with the shadows of suffering and loneliness. Those dark orbs held a stern dignity, gained from years of enduring life’s trials in a fashion reminiscent of a mountain’s majestic stance in the face of the fiercest storms that nature could improvise.

“Aunt ChiChi?” He moved over to the woman, hunkering down to speak with her, needing to do something to show his gratitude for the things that she had done for him in the past.

“What is it, Trunks? Is something wrong?” ChiChi replied looking concerned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering if there’s anything I can do for you,…., you know,…, before you go? Do you want me to tell Gohan anything in particular for you?” Trunks blushed, feeling foolish for trying to be helpful to the woman when he knew she was still seeing him as a gangly youth who couldn’t keep himself out of trouble for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

***

“Thank you for offering, but I already took care of the situation by giving a letter to my father to give him.” She smiled at Trunks crestfallen expression, trying to ease the blow. A thoughtful look flashed over her features as she studied the young man who sat on his haunches before her for a moment, realising that Trunks was attempting to say goodbye in the only manner he could think of. “You know, there is something I would appreciate you doing for me, Trunks.” ChiChi said with a slow considering tone, elevating the young lavender haired demi-Saiyajin’s hopes.

“Sure Aunt ChiChi. Name it and if I can find a way to make it happen I swear I will.” Trunks agreed with an eager tone.

“When Gohan gets here, if he starts acting like an idiot and doing stupid things, be sure to smack him on the back of the head and inform him that I said you were to do so as a reminder to behave like a gentleman should, or else I’ll find a way to come back and beat some sense into his head.” ChiChi’s eyes snapped with fire as she made the demand of the young man who looked up at her, stunned.

“Um, OK. I will, if that’s what you really want me to do…?” Trunks looked at her, doubt clear on his brow.

“That is precisely what I want you to do. I won’t be here to make him behave, so I need to know that someone will at least try to make him think before he acts. He’s coming back because you’re here. That means you have the best chance of getting him to act like he should.” She folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes in silent congratulations for thinking up something for Trunks to feel obligated to do, as he insinuated that he desired to do.

She opened her eyes and smiled at her young step nephew with fondness. “You know that I’m asking quite a lot of you don’t you?”

“I suppose so. I’m just wondering how Gohan will react to being told that his mother ordered me to smack him in the back of the head over whatever it is that he does in the future.” Trunks voice was gloomy with concern.

“I think he’ll understand that I’m putting you in the position to look out for his welfare. Which by the way, is precisely what I have in mind.” She pointed at Trunks’ chest with a self satisfied smirk on her face.

“You mean…, Your trusting me to keep an eye on Gohan? You’re not going to have my mother or grandpa Ox yell at him all the time or anything like that then?” Trunks eyes widened to an alarming size as ChiChi nodded her head in sharp assent.

“Think you can handle being a grown up, Trunks? Because I’m demanding that you take care of my Gohan. Since he’s already proven to me that he doesn’t have enough brains to take care of himself, I’d be much happier knowing that someone with an intellect was making sure he keeps his life on track.” She huffed at the startled expression on Trunks face.

Trunks looked at the salt and pepper haired woman who had so often screamed at him over his moments of unthinking reactions with a solemn gaze. “I’ll do my best to make sure Gohan is happy and safe Aunt ChiChi. I promise.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll be making sure that you keep your word to me, Trunks. I’ll have Gokou rip your head off when you die if you don’t.” She glared daggers at the warrior before her, insuring he knew how earnest she was about having her will carried out.

Trunks dropped his eyes to the ground wishing that his aunt would have more faith in him, and in his sincerity. It would have made things much easier for everyone if she would relax and just let go of her overbearing sense of propriety and her need to control others so completely. Before he could think of an appropriate response to her threats, Trunks felt the whispering of the wind, carrying the sound of a soft, almost undetectable hum. It ruffled his hair, jerking his head up in alarm as a large Ki signature suddenly erupted from nothingness.

Kibito stood a few feet away from the mirror, looking at the elderly woman who he would be meeting on the other side of the mirror in a matter of few moments. “Is everything in order on this side as requested? He gruffly queried the small group of bystanders who had come to see ChiChi off, and wish Gohan a happy return.

Trunks leapt to his feet, quick to answer as it had been Kibito’s choice to place the burden on his shoulders in getting things ready to return his beloved. “Yes sir, I’ve done everything as close to specs as Supreme Kai dictated to the best of my ability, Sir.”

“Very well, let us proceed. Shall we?” He glanced over to ChiChi for her consent since it was her trial to go through that would allow Gohan to return. She gave a small nod of assent, and Kibito powered up, growling some unintelligible phrase as he shot a blast of bluish light into the mirror’s center when the first rays of sunlight flashed upon the highest levels of it’s surface.

Ripples began to form, as swirling light exploded with a loud shrieking howl of energy in motion from the transformed mirror’s surface. The water like energy shot from the center of the mirror’s surface, only to be sucked back into it’s core with alarming crackling, booming and roaring tones.

Star fields exploded into being inside the mirrors surface, while the surface turned black as night. The cosmos began to form before the onlookers’ eyes. Galaxies took shape, one after another, as the gateway came into being. The miniature star fields wheeled within the confines of the mirror, generating patterns that were astonishing, and humbling for the small group of survivors who had come to witness the return of one of their own, while saying their fond farewells to another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The galaxies morphed and shifted to become a shaft of glowing silver light that stretched on for what appeared to be eternity. Howling erupted from the glass’s surface as if gale force winds were blasting through the now forming corridor that linked one world to the next.

“Exactly what is that noise I’m hearing?” ChiChi asked a bit subdued.

“The pathway is always buffeted by energy forces that move like a strong wind.” Kibito answered solemnly. “The silver light shaft will be the one thing you can use to stay on course. Goku on that end will have the emotional charge to keep it expanding to the true rebirth mirror in the world of the Kais. While Trunks, and those here, who love Gohan will act as the bridging force that keeps the shaft in tact for this end of the reflection of the mirror in the world of the Kais.”

“So I’ll be going into a place where energy is so powerful that it will act like a strong wind, then?” ChiChi looked doubtful. “How exactly am I supposed to stay in one piece if I’m being hit by that much for lack of a better phrase, electricity?” her eyes narrowed as if she smelled a rat.

“This will protect your body from harm.” Kibito held up a medallion on a long thick chain for her to see. He dropped it over her head and straightened it across her bosom with practiced ease of one handing out medals of valor.

“Well that’s a relief. I was a bit worried there for a moment. If I lose my body I can’t get to Goku.” She smiled as she looked down at the intricately scroll worked metal and gemstone necklace resting against her breast.

“Be sure your hands do not leave the light shaft once you enter the gate. The power will sweep you away and you will die without the ability to ever have an afterlife. Only the worst criminals normally are subjected to the powers you are about to enter into. The massive vortex is the source of all creation, all power, all existence. That is why the Rebirth gate is what it is. It gives form it’s strength, but it can destroy what it gives if the individual is too weak or has no one to aide in making the transition.” Kibito’s warning made Trunks and the others gasp in alarm.

“I understand. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Kibito. I’ll be glad to get this over with.” Chichi’s jaw firmed and determination sparked in her eyes as she stepped closer to the mirror’s surface, a hand raised in preparation to grab onto the shaft once it extended beyond the surface of the glass.

“Wait a minute.” Trunks hastened forward. “You never said anything about either of them not making it before.” he had a wild eyed look as he confronted Kibito, a hand yanking the God around to face him, forcefully.

“So long as both have allies who are willing to extend their emotions to the individuals involved there is little danger. Only if one releases the shaft does the warning have true relevance.” Kibito answered as he glared down at the purple haired fighter that held his arm in a painful vice grip.

“You’re absolutely certain about that?” Trunks demanded as visions of Gohan or ChiChi flying into a massive vortex of power that crushed and wrended them to nothingness.

“Of course. IF we had any doubts we wouldn’t have considered this method in the first place.” Trunks released the God’s arm and breathed deeply to regain his sense of equilibrium as he digested the information. “Now, shall we get started before the gate closes of it’s own violation?” Kibito continued, not unkindly.

“Ok. Let’s get this over with. What do you need me to do?” Trunks nodded to the giant standing next to him and ChiChi.

“Reach out your hands, thinking of Gohan and your connections to him. Your memories and your fondness will help extend the shaft into this dimension. Reach out with your feelings and take hold of the shaft as it protrudes into this world. From there concentrate on those emotions and memories to the exclusion of everything else. Do you understand?” Kibito’s voice was stern as he gave the directions to the lavender haired man.

“Got it.” Trunks nodded his head in agreement and stretched out his arms towards the mirror. It took a few moments of concentrating to bring the energy shaft into his hands, and he had to focus more strongly on his chi than he had realized he would have to, but he managed to get the shaft in hand. He closed his eyes and waited.

He felt ChiChi’s hands on the shaft once she grabbed a hold of it. Her emotions were crystal clear through the connection and almost upset his balance in keeping true to his feelings. It was daunting having her become aware of his preferences, and reasons for wanting Gohan to return. He wondered if she would condemn him for a few seconds before her emotions gave a strangled, yet grudging acceptance of the situation. He relaxed a bit and shot his own gratitude for her ability to allow him this emotional connection to flash through the shaft.

Another set of emotions began radiating through the shaft as he continued to hang on to his end of the energy pulsing beam, trying to keep his focus pure with the new static filtering through to his consciousness. It was making things more difficult for him, and he was fairly certain it made it difficult for the other three individuals involved also. He needed to concentrate to the exclusion of everyone else’s emotions, and that was proving nearly impossible.

He felt Goku’s eagerness to see ChiChi again, as well as his trepidation. Trunks’ smile at this development was genuine, and he couldn’t repress the sympathetic tug, born of experience that flared outward before he could contain his own reaction. He felt ChiChi’s immediate irritation with him, as well as a flash of rye humor at her own realization that she indeed could be a force to reckon with when angry.

A new flash of emotions caught Trunks off guard and he almost lost his concentration. Gohan had taken his side of the light cord in hand and was moving. Trunks felt the other Demi-Saiyajin’s life force like a palpable blow. The eagerness was tainted with a note of apology, most likely to ChiChi as he realized that the Rebirth gate laid everyone’s emotions and thoughts open for view. He noticed that Gohan was especially aware of his mother’s borderline disapproval over the idea that her son wouldn’t have children due to the circumstances of his heart.

Trunks tried to reach the other Demi-Saiyajin with his full emotional strength since it was obvious that Gohan was very upset to realize that his mother now knew more about her son than he had ever thought was possible. This gateway required a very large dose of unconditional trust, and Gohan was not thrilled at being laid bare for both of his parents to see.

Trunks understood the feelings he felt pulsing through his hands, as he shared the same disgruntled emotions at making the discovery for himself a few moments before. Still he mentally urged Gohan to move forward through sheer mental urgency. Gohan responded more slowly than Trunks liked, but did begin to move along the line as the shaft pulsed a sense of location to both parties holding the energy beams in hands now shaking with effort.

ChiChi was further along the line than Gohan and Trunks felt a twinge of unrest at the realization. What would happen if ChiChi reached her end first? Would the gate close or some other disastrous consequence reveal itself in that event? He knew that both parties had to cross over at the same time. Therefore he sent a silent mental plea through the line for Gohan to move faster just in case.

The Demi-Saiyajin’s emotions were still muddled with shock but Trunks felt the instinctual reply of hastening movement along the cord that bound the four individual’s emotions and memories together. He also felt the unspoken whiplash emotions from ChiChi demanding her son get a move on as well as Trunks emotional concern reached her and Goku’s mental urging as well. Gohan responded to the trio of emotional pressures with a much increased speed trying to make certain that he reached the centerline at the same time as his mother once he had that confirmation from his parents that he wasn’t hated for being himself.

Trunks felt the smile that Gohan gave his mom and the single arm squeeze he gave her in a personal farewell as the two came together on either side of the shaft. It was heart warming for him to know Gohan was getting to say a real goodbye this time, as was his mother. ChiChi almost lost her grip on the cord however, as she nearly caved to the desire to wrap both of her arms around the son she had lost a few years before in a bear hug. Only Gohan and Goku’s emotional upset kept her from being whisked away in a flash of tumultuous power.

Sweat poured out of Trunks body as he fought against the power that sheered through the dimensional rift, and he sensed Goku’s own growing exhaustion as both fought to keep a clear zone open for their beloved companions, and mates. This was getting more dangerous by the second and he allowed his sense of exhaustion to make itself known to the two people still trapped within the mirrored surfaces of the gateway, hoping to spur both to faster movement. Reluctance on ChiChi’s part filtered to him as she released her son for a final time, and began pulling herself along the beam once more, her hand over hand motions making it clear that it was still rather a difficult crossing as she neared her husband’s side of the gate.

Gohan began experiencing more difficulty as well Trunks noticed once he had passed the halfway point and Trunks felt the ever weakening link between himself and Goku as ChiChi’s emotions became more dim. Gohan’s emotions were becoming stronger as the dark haired demi-Saiyajin came closer and Trunks felt an eerie pounding in his temples start to pulsate in time with his own heartbeat, creating an odd counter point to the energies flaring through thee shaft of creative force he was desperately fighting to control and maintain.

A strange crackling sound almost broke his concentration, and the secondary shockwave of force that rippled out from the mirror knocked Trunks to his knees unexpectedly. The shaft almost vanished from his hands as he struggled to keep his mind focused on the task before him, memories and emotions couldn’t be allowed to fade at this critical point. He tried to comprehend what was happening through the emotional shifts inside the vortex of power, and being unable to fully grasp the reasons for the startled emotions radiating through the cord opened his eyes to look into the glasses surface.

The brilliance was painful and blinding, Trunks snapped his eyes shut again, but brilliant after images danced in a vortex around his cornea, making the mental images a bit distorted to his mind’s eye. He threw more concentration into his task, trying to compensate for the fuzzier image that he had unwittingly caused for himself and succeeded only after a number of deep steadying breath as combined with teeth gnashing determination. He had to judge by senses alone as to each person’s positions within the mirrored surface. He felt a new wave of impatience flare through his heart as he tried to feel where Gohan and ChiChi both were respectively. He couldn’t let go of the Shaft too quickly or too slowly he knew

He wanted this over with and Gohan back where he belonged. He felt a twinge from the other end that informed him Goku likewise was getting antsy for the same ending. It was amusing to think that he and Goku both shared in one common emotion as the time ticked onwards. He was stunned when he felt a hand grip his own, He released one of his hands to grip onto the now tangible fingers that were quickly warming his own, a sense of exaltation flaring through hm as he recognized that Gohan was almost through the gateway. A few moments later he felt a similar flare flash through the energy shaft that denoted ChiChi had made it to her end. As if by some instinctual pre arranged signal he and Goku both yanked their partners through the glass releasing their ends of the shaft that had made the trip possible.

The mirror exploded outwards with power as Gohan came through, the recoil of his reentry drawing a large amount of energy through the portal with him, and knocking both men into a heap of tangled limbs and debris. Trunks skin burned from the energy that had lashed outwards, permeating every cell of his body it felt like. He was having problems reorienting himself within his own being as something kept prickling along the edge of his conscience.

He felt oddly disjointed and it was like he had a second set of emotions running through his body and mind. In a shocked second of clarity he realized that he was still mentally and emotionally tied to Gohan’s thoughts and emotions which was what was causing the difficulty in returning to his normal state of mind. The two acknowledged the new development and by a strange unspoken agreement began pulling back a bit from each other for the purpose of reorienting themselves, even though the withdrawal into themselves was somewhat painful after the complete emersion in each other’s thoughts and feelings.

Trunks felt a tearing sensation momentarily, not unlike the popping disoriented sensations he had experienced earlier and felt a wave of unexpected loneliness swirl up through the core of his being as he felt the absence of Gohan’s emotions and thoughts take tangible shape within his head.

His eyes opened to see a tired but grinning Brunette looking down at him an arm holding his upper body up, as he looked down on the sweaty lavender haired man who had drug him through the gate by sheer will and strong emotional ties. “Thanks, Trunks.” Gohan said to the wide eyed demi-Saiyajin who was still trying to assimilate that the love of his life was looking down at him, while their bodies were entwined in an embarrassing manner.

The dark haired demi-Saiyajin realized the other’s embarrassed thought and disentangled himself as other voices converged upon them from both sides making both aware that Bulma, and OxKing were intent upon welcoming Gohan back to the world of the living.

“Gohan, you’re back. Welcome Home!” Bulma pounced on the newly resurrected young man she’d known since his childhood.

OxKing was not to be outdone, grabbing Gohan up in a bone cracking embrace, tears of joy on his weathered face at having his grandson back. “Gohan, I’m so glad you made it back. ChiChi made it to or so this Kibito fellow tells us.” Ox King’s massive hand gestured to the red skinned God, standing off to the side watching the heartfelt reunion with calm smiling eyes.

“Yes, she indeed is where she wishes to be and now I must leave you to your celebrations. A hand raised and power shot out of the God’s hand, destroying the mirror Bulma had taken such pains to find.

“Why’d you do that?” the blue haired woman demanded fury resonating in every line of her body.

“To protect this world. The Rebirth Gateway is an unstable force that can give form to spirit, as it has for Gohan here. But always remember that it can also destroy what it touches. I destroyed the mirror here to insure that power doesn’t leak out into your world and set about a massive dose of chaotic changes that might destroy your world.” Kibito explained with a note of superiority that belied his irritation in having been questioned over his actions.

“Oh!” Bulma looked startled as she digested the information she’d just been given. “Wait!” she bellowed at the now floating red skinned God.

“What is it?” Kibito’s tone as terse at being detained.

“What about that blast of light that came out of the mirror a few minutes ago?” Bulma asked, looking worried. “It was a pretty big blast, and I wonder if it will cause problems for this planet.” A hand planted on her hip expectantly

“Do not be so concerned. It was a minor amount that will help the planet to recover, yet not so much as to do grave harm. Only continued streams of raw creation power can do damage. It was negligible when one considers just how much power the mirror could have bled out over time.”

“That’s good to know.” Ox King spoke quickly, dropping a hand onto Bulma’s shoulder in a silent plea for the woman to let the topic drop and allow the God the leave as he so obviously wished to. “Thank you so very much for helping to return my grandson to us, sir.” Ox king executed a bow as he spoke, attempting to nullify and potential resentment Bulma’s imperious behavior might have caused.

“You are quite welcome. Now I must go. Stay well Gohan and Trunks. Protect this world well.” Kibito shot upwards and vanished before the four bystanders could react.

Trunks was standing beside Gohan, a hand still hanging on to his newly acquired beloved as if he feared Gohan would evaporate in the same manner Kibito just had. he was still speechless at having the other warrior back and could barely think of anything, as overwhelming as the experience was.

“So, everyone, how about going home and getting something to eat?” Gohan asked, a hand going to the back of his head, a somewhat silly grin on his lips. Trunks swallowed hard, nodding his head as the litany of, ‘He’s back. He’s really back!’ spun through his mind.

Take a few minutes and get a cup of hot tea or take a bubble bath , read a book, take a walk, or watch a movie that really exhilarates you and has proven a mental stimulant before. If you recharge your optimism, then you can write, since ideas pop into your head faster.. If you are relaxed and optimistic you’ll be writing in no time.

2) Free write for a few minutes on a blank piece of paper. I grab a dictionary or any old book, pop it open and wherever the page opens to I pop a finger onto a word at random.. I write the word down then see how many words I can associate with the one that randomly got picked to get the mind to working in finding ways to make the connections.

**This exercise also helps with plotting when you don’t have blocks BTW.. Example: Write out the word escape; if you have a hero trapped somewhere, then different avenues come to mind for how escape can be achieved rather quickly…

You can do this by making lists of things, like objects, colours or whatever which might be put in the ficcy you are on at the moment, or for a later use. It isn’t where it goes Right Now that matters, Half the battle is fought by simply taking down the first three objects/ colours/ people names or whatever.. By starting to write, you open the door no matter how stuck it is. I do lists on objects in a room or mentioned in a book or whatever else I can think of to get the mind working. I later on expand by describing the objects if simply listing them doesn’t break the block open wide in a matter of minutes.

Example. The word Vase; How many types of vases are there? Boxy ones, square ones, thin, tall, long, hourglass shaped and Triangular, they come in ceramic, clay, glass, metal and many other forms of substance too. See how fast you can write out different types of vases that come to mind.. :) You can even start listing types of flowers and their colours if you like to start the process of listed free writing.

3) The Pep Talk: Ok this is another huge part of writer’s block I have found from way too much experience with the problem.. Finding the fear within that blocks the creative juices.. Read what you have aloud first and foremost.. Does it flow or is it stilted sounding? If it doesn’t sound right, then fix it so it does… Usually by doing a re-vamp.. Aka short form edit, You’ll get the mind working and cooperating because you will be able to say ok I can do this.

You can also explore the underside of what you are writing this way… Does something in the ficcie you are working on ring true and it is a truth you aren’t quite comfy with as an example. :) I do this one a lot.. You should always write about what you know, as per relationships between people etc..

If you know very little about the topic, the exact same thing can happen. Research can only go so far. If you’re writing about a submarine crew, but know absolutely nothing about submarines.. You may well find yourself blocked as well.

4) Turn the situation around in what you are writing. This is a different form of looking at the underside of what you are writing. It is a change in view points, and it is getting inside of your character’s head, literally.. You start by asking things like Ok if I was so and so what would I do in this situation. :) It’s a fun kind of role play game in short.. Or you make the villain momentarily the hero, and the hero the villain so to speak. :)

But the challenge here is that the villain has to stay in same basic character as does the main hero.. :) It makes for some funny stuff mentally… Trust me.. Could you see Android 17 being in Gohan’s shoes when Gohan lost his arm? How would he have reacted to the loss of a limb? And would he have given android 18 the senzu bean if it was the last one? Or would he have broken it in half and given half to each of them? See how this works?

Perhaps if the scene was set somewhere else, like a forest instead of an amusement park…. how would the forest setting impact the scene of the battle where Gohan lost his arm? What difference would Trunks battle with 18 have had in a forest instead of a fun park? I think these questions are giving you an idea of what this turn it upside down really means. It’s putting the fic under construction through major changes in your mind not in the paper format, and trying to determine what is or isn’t working for the current picture you are drawing of the fic you are blocked on. It means slowing down a bit, relaxing and trying to make a moment of whimsy of the piece in most regards… You could even have the idea of Gohan not losing limbs at all.. That the senzu bean was never needed, and the androids get hit in the face with cotton candy if you like.. Just so long as you shift the scene and look at how place changes the meanings of the plot, compared to something else (the actual show in this case)

5) Do an interview with the actors in your plot… Ask questions of them, write it out like it was a newspaper clipping or something of that nature to get the ideas moving in a manner that lets you really understand the characters better… Perhaps you do a family show like family Feud,… Gohan and Trunks Vs. Androids as example. :) How would they answer the Questions posed to them? who would answer faster? or read a newspaper for it’s headlines… Ok if this was Trunks or Gohan in this particular eye catching newspaper article, How would they answer the interview? Etc.. etc.. it forces the mind to concentrate on the character, and helps you get back to the plot line by giving you ideas to work with.

6) Role play AD&D your plot via Characters.. be the character in your own living room.. heheh I do this one a whole lot.. Or perhaps your a fringe character… You are not necessarily stuck being the main characters, You can be a fringe character watching the main ones interact.. You set up the situation, and you hear both sides.. Listen to what the imagination tells you. :) I have a tape record I use in this one.. I role play a lot like a D&D or AD&D adventure driving in my car.. I give short blunt descriptions of things, places, actions and people that float to my mind’s eye as I drive.. It makes the never ending 100 degree trips (40 miles one way) into town seem much more bearable and quickly run. Feel silly and have fun! Tee hee.. The sillier you feel at the start, the more likely you are to hit Gold mines when you get used to role playing in this fashion. :) You get blah, blah, blah to start with, but once gold is struck, it doesn’t run out for hours as I have been told by others I suggest this tactic to… Actions force the mind to mould itself to the concept and to work within the frame of the context being dealt with much more vividly.. That’s why the kids with the backyard war game are amused for hours.. They don’t have freak outs over role playing.. So be a BIIIIIG Kid for a few hours.. It will make you proud of yourself, and nobody has to know if you do such in your own living room with the shades drawn.

7) Write a Letter to and from your character.. This is fun. I do journals also.. As in what the character thinks and feels.. :) Letters are major communications.. So if you write saying gee how ya been Trunks? Then Trunks is obliged to answer right? what was his POV. (Point of View) when Gohan lost his arm rescuing his smarty ass… He did after all practically beg 18 to murder him so he could get a way out of Mirai timeline. :) Perhaps he thinks Gohan’s injury is all his fault.. Perhaps he thinks that he can deny any, and all, part in the incident and sets it up as if he’s an angel?? everyone comments on how vividly I catch characters, and guess which of my writer’s block 101 breakers that comes from?? You got it.. This exercise.. :)

LOL I have a document on my comp that is a trunks Journal.. I also have a Gohan’s views Journal.. And I am quick to add things from all the ficcies I write, No matter how off the wall the Journals get or how conflicting, each section is pertaining to a specific Fic or show I have seen. :) It really helps you stay in touch with your people. I have every character of importance in my fics whether DB/Z/GT or otherwise related to writing journaling while I work on their particular project and plotting.

8) Last thing I can think of for this day’s work.. Create a History or Profile master for the characters in the story… I mean in-depth profiles, not purple hair versus -black hair or brown eyes versus blue… Did they home school like Gohan, and Mirai Trunks and Gohan? How high is education level? It’s a form of in depth character formulizing and it also works great. :)

There is an example character profile list also here. I have it in a science fiction trilogy that is already taken , so the character and her home planet and culture are trademarked already, sorry you can’t steal her, Nor her world, language etc, but you can use her home and language etc, as places to jump start your own creativity if you like. As in gee this is possible? Ok what could I do with this concept?

Also use the profile master as a spread sheet for books you read, and movies you see. :) You’ll be surprised how few new ideas there are in the world.. It’s all in how it is written about. That should get rid of fears of being boring and dull as there are so many things that are already done that you think of redoing.. Ask yourself how you can take the old and make it new instead..

9) The last bit of advice I can give is simply ask someone who is capable of being open to what you are writing.. this M.L. has a few good writers, and there are probably others whom you know that might be of assistance if you get jammed and these other ideas don’t get you any results.

MASTER PROFILE SHEET

NAME:
SPECIES WHERE APPLICABLE:
RACE:
ETHNIC GROUP:
GENDER:
BIRTH PLANET:
PLANETARY SYSTEM:
CITY OF BIRTH:
STATE:
COUNTY:
COUNTRY:
BIRTH DATE:
CURRENT AGE:
NICK NAMES:
PHYSICAL STATISTICS
HEIGHT:
WEIGHT:
BODY TYPE:
NECK:
SHOULDERS:
ARMS:
HANDS:
BREASTS/CHEST:
BELLY & WAIST:
LEGS & HIPS:
VOICE:
FACE & EYES:
HAIR COLOUR & STYLE:
PERCEIVED PHYSICAL IMPERFECTIONS
1
2
3

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
1
2
3
CLOTHING STYLES & FAVOURITE OUTFITS:
1
2
3
4
PERSONALITY TYPE:
CHARACTERISTIC GESTURES
1
2
3
4
RELIGION; WHERE APPLICABLE:
GENERAL PERSONALITY TYPE:
INTROVERT?
EXTROVERT?
QUIRKS:
1
2
3
ECCENTRICITIES:
1
2
3
TEMPERAMENT:
SENSE OF HUMOUR:
METHOD OF HANDLING ANGER/RAGE:
ADMIRABLE TRAITS:
1
2
3
4
NEGATIVE TRAITS:
1
2
3
BAD HABITS/VICES:
1
2
3
4
PREJUDICES:
1
2
3
PET PEEVES/GRIPES:
1
2
3
4
FAVOURITE PET SAYINGS, WORDS/IDIOLECT:
1
2
3
4
SPEAKING STYLES;
PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE:
TYPE AND # OF CLOSE FRIENDS:
1
2
3
4
BEST FRIEND:
OTHER FRIENDS:
1
2
3
4
5
6
THINGS THAT MAKE UNCOMFORTABLE/ EMBARRASS:
1
2
3
4
MOST PAINFUL THINGS IN LIFE:
1
2
3
4
TRAUMAS/PSYCHOLOGICAL SCARS FROM PAST:
1
2
3
4
MOST CRUCIAL EXPERIENCE(S) THAT HELPED SHAPE PERSONALITY/ATTITUDES:
1
2
FEARS:
1
2
3
4
PHOBIAS:
1
2
3
4
MANIAS:
1
2
3
4
PHYSICAL ILLNESSES/AFFLICTIONS:
1
2
3
4
MENTAL DISTURBANCES:
1
2
3
4
HOBBIES:
1
2
3
4
INTERESTS:
1
2
3
4
SPORTS:
1
2
3
4
FAVOURITE PASTIME(S):
FAVOURITE SHOWS:
1
2
3
4
FAVOURITE MOVIES:
1
2
3
FAVOURITE TRAVEL DESTINATIONS:
1
2
3
PETS:
1
2
DRINKS ALCOHOL? :
HOW OFTEN?
IF DRINKS, WHAT IS FAVOURITE DRINK:
FAVOURITE MEAL:
FAVOURITE BOOKS:
1
2
3
DIET; RICH OR LOW CHOLESTEROL/FAT?:
FAVOURITE RESTAURANT/ETHNIC FOODS:
A:
B:
OPINIONS SECTION
OPINION ON ABORTION (As Example):
OPINION ON BIRTH CONTROL:
OPINION ON ENVIRONMENTAL ISSUES:
OPINION ON HOMOSEXUALITY:
OPINION ON MILITARY INTERVENTION:
OPINION ON PROGRESS; SCIENTIFIC:
MEDICAL:
TECHNOLOGICAL:
OPINION ON CRIME/WEAPONS CONTROL:
OPINIONS PECULIAR TO CHARACTER:
1
2
3
4
LIVING SITUATION SECTION
HOME; APARTMENT/CONDO, MANSION, CASTLE ETC.. LOW INCOME/EXPENSIVE,
RENT OR OWN?
NEIGHBOURHOOD:
TRANSPORTATION:
OBEY LAWS:
DRIVE FAST/SLOW
INCOME:
INCLUDES BREAKDOWN OF EXPENSES IF POSSIBLE:
STOCKS/BONDS, INHERITANCE WHERE APPLICABLE.
1
2
3
SEXUAL ATTITUDES SECTION
FAVOURITE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF OPPOSITE SEX:
1
2
3
ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTER THAT ATTRACT OPPOSITE SEX:
1
2
3
SEXUAL TURN ONS:
1
2
3
SEXUAL TURNOFFS:
1
2
3
SEXUAL ATTITUDES; PRUDE OR PROMISCUOUS:
EDUCATIONAL BACKGROUND
I G:
YEARS OF SCHOOLING:
MAJOR/MINOR STUDIES IN COLLEGE:
1
2
3
4
DEGREES EARNED/AWARDED/ HONORARY:
1
2
3
GRADES ACHIEVED:
SPECIAL OCCUPATIONAL TRAINING WHERE APPLICABLE:
SKILLS/ABILITIES/ & TALENTS:
1
2
3
4
AREAS OF EXPERTISE:
1
2
3
CURRENT OCCUPATION:
PREVIOUS OCCUPATIONS:
1
2
3
4
MILITARY EXPERIENCE WHERE APPLICABLE:
WEAPONS OF CHOICE:
1
2
3
4
POLITICAL & SOCIAL ISSUES MOST IMPORTANT TO:
1
2
3
POLITICAL PARTY:
TYPE: LIBERAL, CONSERVATIVE, MIDDLE ROAD, RADICAL:
EVER BEEN ARRESTED? <IF SO FOR WHAT?:
1
2
3
SHORT TERM NEEDS:
1
2
3
4
LONG TERM NEEDS:
1
2
3
4
SHORT TERM GOALS:
1
2
3
LONG TERM GOALS:
1
2
3
MINOR PROBLEMS TO SOLVE/OVERCOME:
1
2
3
SOLUTIONS TO:
1
2
3
MAJOR PROBLEMS TO OVERCOME:
1
2
3
SOLUTIONS TO:
1
2
3
CHARACTER GROWTH BY END OF STORY; CHARACTER CHANGE/LESSONS LEARNED:
1
2
3
4
CHRONOLOGY OF ACTIONS FROM START TO FINISH OF STORY:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18

CHARACTER LINEAGE:
CREATE FAMILY BACKGROUND FOR CHARACTER’S RELATIVES; INCLUDE HISTORY, OCCUPATIONS, ETC WHERE APPROPRIATE.

Author’s Notes:  Song Used: Britney Spears – Stronger
Trunks walked down the hallway to answer the door. He was still half asleep due to a typically restless night of nightmares that never seemed to end. It had been two years since he had destroyed the androids in his world, but still, they sneered at him in his sleep. He rubbed the back of his neck, mentally shaking off the after images that tried to rear their ugly heads to drag him back down in the mirky depths, and opened the door.

“Package for Mrs. Briefs and son.” a thin, wiry framed, youth from UPS chirped at him in a cheery voice. Trunks inhaled deeply to keep from snapping at the carefree young man standing in front of him with his computerized data pad, ready for someone’s signature. It wasn’t the UPS boy’s fault he couldn’t get a descent night’s sleep he reminded himself sharply, before he spoke.

“I’m Trunks Briefs. I’ll sign for it.” he said holding out his hand for the data pad and computerized pen that would commit his signature to the memory banks in the machine for later re-verification.

“Wow! You guys are lucky. Not many people get personal packages from Aurora you know.” The way too cheerful fellow pronounced in an awed tone as he took back the data computer, handing over a fairly large package reluctantly. “What’s she really like? Is she half as cool as they say she is?” The young man asked, eager for information on the veteran pop singer.

“Um, well,” Trunks was hesitant to speak about young woman who he and Gohan had rescued two years before Gohan’s death. “Rory is just like anyone else to be honest. She’s down to earth basically.” Trunks shrugged, scratching his head, wanting to end the conversation quickly so he could find out what the Son family’s pseudo-adopted trouble maker had sent to him and his mother, especially since she hadn’t been in touch for several months.

“Man what I wouldn’t give to meet a girl like her! You must be one envied guy I bet!” The carrier continued oblivious to Trunks quickly darkening look.

“She’s like a kid sister to me. So don’t get any funny ideas buddy!” Trunks snapped at the startled teen standing before him.

“Oh sorry sir… I had no idea. Well… I best… get back to… business. Nice to meet you.” The younger man stammered in squeaky tones, back peddling out of the doorway, tipping his cap in a hasty fashion. Trunks slammed the door, turning to see his mother staring at him, a look of disappointment on her face. “Morning mom.”

“Uh huh. Not if you’re about to murder the delivery people straight out of bed Trunks.” She said with a raised eyebrow and a hand planted firmly on one hip in that intimidating fashion which still caused Trunks to cringe like a little boy, whether he knew what he’d done wrong or not.

“Sorry. I just hate being plagued about Rory. It’s rare enough when she actually bothers to get in touch with us now days.” the tell tale blush staining his cheeks had Bulma grinning openly at her son.

“Oh what did little Miss Rory send us I wonder?” Bulma opened her hands, a clear demand for possession of the parcel Trunks held. She glanced at the box and headed for the den, where she sorted through the family’s mail and bills. She grabbed a long, thin knife she used for a letter opener, and slid it lightly across the heavy tape, freeing the seal and fanning Trunks’ own unquenchable curiosity. A letter and a heavily bubble-wrapped bundle slid out onto the desk surface. “Well at least we got a letter with this one, eh son?’ Bulma grinned wickedly at her lavender haired son, who was watching her intensely.

“Mom?! Would you open the darned package? I want to know what she sent already!” Trunks’ grumbled, ill-humored, at being kept in suspense by her antics.

“Oh pooh. You’re such a spoil sport.” Bulma chuckled, even as she reprimanded her only son. “First things first, son of mine. We read the letter so we know how ChiChi’s little lady is doing and then we’ll get to the goodies.”

“But mom…”

“No buts, Trunks. Letter first!” Bulma gave him her most daunting look, smiling inwardly at his frustrated look of longing at the bubble wrapped packet in front of him. He was as bad as her, in his voracious inquisitiveness she knew. But he wasn’t getting the bubble wrapped box just yet.

She loved seeing that look, when his eyes were alight with almost child-like anticipation that reminded her of his first four birthdays, before he understood the gravity of the Android era he had been raised to endure. It was rare to see that kind of look at best. He wouldn’t have shown this part of his personality so openly, if not for still being partially asleep. She would savor every minute of it, no matter how crazy she was driving her grown son with her antics.

She opened the letter slowly, savoring Trunks almost pleading, and obviously exasperated look for her to speed things up, get the letter read, and get to the all important, curiosity bedeviling bundle.

Bulma cleared her throat and began to read the letter aloud; “Hey Mrs. B. and bratty bro. What’s up with you guys? Sorry haven’t been in touch lately. Have had a whole bunch of stuff on my plate and usually can’t find time to breathe, much less to actually write or call either of my adopted families. Anyway I will have plenty of time to write you guys from now on. It’s been kept under wraps but if you heard bout it from the radio or tv, then you know I was attacked a couple weeks back by a berserk fan, turned stalker.”

Trunks mind flashed back to the newscast where they had turned the aborted attack into the main story byline on almost every station planet wide. He and Bulma had to calm ChiChi down by going to the Son residence and spending the night to pull her out of her never ending terror that she’d lost her second chance child to violence, as she had lost Gohan.

His mother’s voice yanked him back into the present like a chilling slap. “What did she just write again? Repeat that last sentence mother.” Trunks demanded, all curiosity over the package deflating at what he thought he had just heard Bulma read. “It’s gonna be announced that my career is over due to that attacker’s having busted my vocal cords beyond repair later this week, but I made my manager and the record label hold off on telling the world until after you guys, aunt ChiChi and grandpa Ox have had a chance to say Yes or No to the last thing that I will ever put on the market as a singer.

Bulma looked over at Trunks, white faced over the news that Aurora had been hurt so badly. She was appalled that the truth had been withheld from both the Son and Brief families when both families had called in to get answers as any other family would have. Trunks returned the look, with a black, enraged one of his own, fire burning in his eyes. She knew how protective he and Gohan had become over the small waif Trunks had pulled, partially crushed, from the rubble of a building, while Gohan had taken the brunt of battle, to hold off an Android attack when Trunks had been thirteen.

Aurora, a tiny, iridescent silvery haired, wide-eyed orphan, was already a year long veteran of the streets when she had been rescued at age eight. She had recovered fully from her injuries, to become a wonderfully playful handful for both half Saiyajins, and their mothers. Her delightful, often heart-tugging, if somewhat aggravating pranks quickly captivated both remaining Z fighters and their families, winning her a permanent home in their lives.

Bulma returned to reading the letter after a moment’s more hesitation. “This is a music tribute to the first and second generation Z warriors, and was assembled a while back, but I had the gang at the label company produce two prerelease copies even though they didn’t want to. They grumbled, but agreed to produce a copy for you both, and one for aunt ChiChi and grandpa Ox, to look over and help REVISE, in case you want something removed or added to the scrap book portion of this box set. Most of the money raised will be going to benefit and maintain the United Nations “Heroes of the World” museum. They are planning on adding a Z warriors’ memorial, as I’m sure you probably already know. Anyway they asked me to contribute music to help them in getting it off the ground since they found out I grew up in Gohan’s old family home. I even got asked what you’re really like Trunks, believe it or not. Ha ha! Yes I’m definitely smirking and laughing over that one! You are what I affectionately still call my ‘bratty bigger brother’ now aren’t you? Needless to say the whole room dropped its jaw when I said that to them. I even got the giggle rights on those who actually fell out of their chairs sputtering at the indignity of having heard their beloved “Great Android Killer” called a brat by me. Oh well what can I say, I’m still the obnoxious brat, adopted sister here!”

Trunks groaned, snorted, then smiled at the building mental image produced by her letter… The last couple statements smacked of Aurora’s antics. He and his mother both knew only too well just how obnoxious, annoying, and troublesome Aurora’s quick retorts were. She had a notoriously unpredictable tongue and you never quite knew what she’d say next, no matter how well you knew her personally. To say Aurora spoke without thinking things through was an understatement.

Bulma smiled back at her son, and returned to the task of reading the missive. “Anyway, I felt a strong need to make the world aware of just how much the first and second generation Z warriors, Earth’s Special Forces, had done for them, both in life, and as it was with so many cases, their deaths. Hope that’s okay. I figured I’d send you a preview because you knew the first generation and much of this is compiled from your stories about the men who made up the first Z team.”

Trunks blinked, amazed. “She went and did what?” his voice echoed his stunned reaction to the news that the package was a tribute to the original Z warriors and himself as well as Gohan.

Listen up.
It has to stop
There’s nothing we can do, you say; Wrong babe
I’ve had enough,
We’re not their property as of today; No Way!
You might think that we can’t break ‘em, but your wrong.

So here we go. Stand and fight.
So here we go. Stand and fight.
Here we go. We’re so right.
Here we go. Stand and fight

ChiChi clucked in disapproval at him from the stove. “Why is your hair still so long, Trunks Vegeta Briefs? Don’t you know descent young men should never wear their hair past their ears, much less past their collars?” She chided him in her mothering fashion, as she sat a huge bowl of stir fried vegetables on the table in preparation for a late lunch.

“Um, well, I planned on getting a haircut aunt ChiChi. Really I did. I’ve just been really tied up with a lot of details of late.”

“Details?” one coal black eyebrow raised in query. Trunks blushed to the tips of his toes. How was he going to tell aunt ChiChi that leaving his house was becoming dangerous to his health, literally. Women, with daughters old enough to marry, were flocking into town, all because of that stupid reporter who had been on site when he had killed androids seventeen and eighteen. They brought their daughters with them in search of catching the ‘world’s greatest hero,’ as the news papers had proclaimed him, much to his embarrassment and disgust.

Older women, still young enough to have kids, and some who weren’t, were likewise chasing him everywhere he went. He had been hit on by women aunt ChiChi’s age in the last couple of months, in addition to the teenagers, and even more than his fair share of men, who literally tried to rip him apart just grabbing for a handful of his clothing, or his hair, as a souvenir.

They always appeared out of nowhere, usually to attack as soon as he walked out of a restaurant, or store he had gone into. He had been mobbed many dozens of times, by crazy female groupies, and had lost more than one shirt, a heavy leather Capsule Corp. logo jacket, and almost lost his britches on far too many occasions in trying to escape the frenzied hordes he now tried to avoid like the plague. He didn’t dare show his face in any larger community since his picture, both in Super Saiyajin, and afterwards, helping an elderly man out of his destroyed vehicle, had hit television and newspapers world wide.

He had more paparazzi photographers trying to keep up with him, for a snap shot to put in the latest rag gossip columns than any other celebrity on the planet, including the various royal families, who were far more interesting due to all the scandals they involved themselves in. Bulma had originally thought it funny that her son was the most famous and sought after person on the planet, and hadn’t bothered to conceal the fact when Trunks had tried to confide his alarm to her over the ripped and torn condition of his latest pair of jeans. He almost hadn’t make it out of that particular gang up with anything covering his private anatomy at all.

He had been left with one partial leg, his waist and crotch area more or less intact, and one of his boots. He had decided at that point it was time to go into hiding, for his own safety, as well as his fanatical fans. He had been forced that day to resort to a mild Ki attack to knock his fans off of him so he could escape their oppressive and ecstatic presence.

His own mother had advised him to go out, and have fun with the girls he thought pretty, since he had so many to choose from. She had even told him that her ex, Yamacha would have been green with envy if he were alive to see the action Trunks had under his nose just begging for attention. He hadn’t told her about the problem with his finding the women in question to be anything but appealing, although a couple of the guys who had been chasing him at that time had flashed through his mind’s eye momentarily. Instead he had replied in another fashion. Trunks’ reply had been less than amiable to the idea, no matter that he evaded the part about his perceived personal tastes, and Bulma had smacked him soundly for the use of foul language, when an hour of battling verbally with her had failed to get her to leave him alone. She had scoffed at him when he had resorted to telling her that it was suicide to even think about looking at any girl who was after him, with the way women had begun acted around him, since shortly after he became famous.

How could he tell his most prudish, if not blood related, aunt that he was being harassed and chased by a flock of women, and men, who would even go to the lengths of flashing body parts at him, in a bid to get his attention even temporarily? He continued to ponder the best way to try and answer her one word question while leaning on the kitchen doorjamb, hot faced and tongue tied.

“Well speak up young man. I know you have a working tongue in your mouth so stop looking for an excuse and answer the question!” ChiChi growled at his extended silence, thinking he was looking to lie to her about why his hair was still overly long for her tastes.

“Um, well, see it’s like this… You know how that reporter with the camera took those pictures of me fighting the androids..?”

“Yes, and all about how he had recorded everything you three said to each other and made quite a celebrity of you… Your point?” she demanded of him in a matter of fact manner.

Trunks cleared his throat nervously as he stared up at the ceiling looking for a calm, tame way to explain the magnitude of the �details’ he was currently trying to avoid. “Um,.. well,… aunt ChiChi you know how the Androids often killed off the armies, and that most of the armies were men, with just a few women in the ranks right?”

“Yes I am aware that there is a shortage of men because of those androids, Trunks. Are you saying the ‘details’ you’ve been busy with, is a girl?” She grinned slyly at the tall young man in the doorway.

“Um…., well…, it’s not exactly like one girl is in the picture, per say, aunt ChiChi,” he started to explain when he was cut off with a squeal of excitement.

“How wonderful! Does your mother know about her yet?” ChiChi gushed and Trunks almost went ballistic, trying to get her attention away from the obvious church wedding, and reception menu, he could see flaring behind her dark eyes.

His tone was biting and frigid as he forcefully threw the details at her trying to stem the tide of her thoughts before she could get any ideas. “Aunt Chichi it isn’t just A Girl…, or A Woman.! If I walk out my front, or back door, I practically trip over dozens of them! And to make matters worse there is no way I am going to be tackled by that many women if I can help it! So please stop before you have me married off to a couple dozen, sex crazed women at the same time in an afternoon ok?!” His exasperation turned to immediate remorse at the stunned look on ChiChi’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that…” He started to stammer out an apology as he looked at her wide eyed look of incomprehension.

He began to blush even deeper, when she started to chuckle as the full blunt of his dilemma sank in. “Oh my, Trunks….” A hand covered her dainty mouth as she tried to contain the laughter before continuing in a teasing tone….. “That’s terribly rude of them to camp on your doorstep don’t you think?” she chortled at his even bleaker and redder faced expression. “Are you saying you can’t get away from all the ladies who think you’re a fine catch?”

Trunks groaned in defeat. “Aunt ChiChi, you’re as bad as my mother,” he growled under his breath in exasperation. He really felt like a kindred spirit to the feisty girl laying in Gohan’s old bed, wracked with fever, at that moment. Trunks moved towards the back of the house to check on her, in self defense he told himself blithely, with a mental sigh of gratitude that Hunter was practically the only female around, who hadn’t gone insane and tried to physically tease to get him in bed, if not try to rip off his clothes to rape him.

He mentally kicked himself for even trying to explain anything to aunt ChiChi as he went to open the door a crack, to look in on the obviously ill waif, to be sure she was still breathing, because Bulma and their family medical doctor hadn’t arrived yet.

The first thing Trunks noticed when he touched the door handle, was the odd tingling sensation that flowed from the knob, into his fingertips. A low humming sound quickly filled his senses as he turned the knob, causing him to shake his head in an effort to dislodge the buzzing that suddenly, and inexplicably, assaulted his sensitive ears. He was getting stranger than ever, he admonished himself as he opened the door a fraction to peek into the room, and look in on the girl who was becoming so much a part of his waking and sleeping thoughts.

He chuckled softly at himself for being such an eccentric person so young. Wasn’t such flights of fancy for the superstitious and the feeble minded? He looked in through the crack in the doorway, only to whip the door wide open in shock, at the sight before him. The girl was wrapped in a strange bluish- purple energy mist, that flared with reds and oranges and pale yellow tones. Every flare of color seemed accompanied by a distinct sound, almost like music, but not quite audible to the ear somehow. He had, and yet hadn’t heard anything like music until he had turned the door knob. Only the tingling in his hand had given him warning of what was happening behind the closed door.

Now his face and upper body felt that vibration full force, ticking his nerve endings like a thousand tiny feathers sweeping across his skin. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was alarming to a warrior trained to fight anything that had any power of measure. Why hadn’t he felt any Ki from her? He dropped into an altered state of consciousness, where he could read her, and felt only a faint pulse of Ki coming from her. She wasn’t using any Ki apparently, and her own natural functions were the only sources of that form of power he could detect even now. Those sources were weakening he realized with a start, and the buzzing musical tones seemed to somehow be tied to the very core of the Ki she was still able to show.

He felt a disorienting wave of dizziness as he stood in the doorway, unaware that he had uttered a sound. The hulking presence of Gohan’s grandfather behind him, snapped him back to the reality of where he was, and that, for the moment at least, the woman was not really a danger to him or the others.

“My goodness I thought I heard her when we met. Guess I was right.” the big man said amicably. “Didn’t think about the fact she might have some training in healer techniques though. Seems she is on the right track after all.” Grandpa Ox slapped him on the back nearly knocking him over.

“Healer?” Trunks managed to stammer past suddenly stiff lips.

“Sure. That’s a healer’s trick I learned when I was a little boy. This particular type of healing trance only works for you if you happen to be using it on yourself. Makes me wonder if she can help others too.” He scratched his curly white beard and watched for a few more moments while Trunks tried to comprehend what ChiChi’s father was telling him.

“Why ca’can’t I f.. fee,, feel her k-Ki on a very strong level then?” Trunks stuttered as he tried to ask the question, his nerves suddenly tightly wound over this unusual development.

“Er, I suppose because you are supposed to hear her. It’s a soul song thing.” Ox answered him truthfully, if a bit confused. “Didn’t you ever learn anything about that kind of stuff? I would have thought Gohan would have at least told you something about it since I taught him a couple things along the way… Not much mind you, he was too busy training to fight all the time. Soul song isn’t very much help in a fight, except for helping numb pain and start healing yourself, unless you are really advanced in your training, and have a really huge amount of courage.” The old man looked at his young adopted grandson with real concern over the pale faced young man in front of him who visibly winced when he mentioned Gohan’s name.

“No, he never mentioned anything called a soul song. He was too busy pushing me towards Super Saiyajin to have the time I guess.” Trunks looked distinctly uncomfortable with the topic, so Ox decided to explain things to him, because he could explain exactly what the girl was doing as she did it.

“Come on in here and sit at the desk while I explain what’s going on then,” he ordered Trunks cheerily, pushing past the compact, muscular young man.

Trunks followed obediently enough, but couldn’t stop looking at the still form, as if he were about to be attacked. “Now stop looking so worried. She isn’t going to bite you. In fact she probably couldn’t do anything worse than get rid of any acne you might still have with what she’s doing.” Ox chuckled at Trunk’s look of embarrassment. “I want you to look at me Trunks and do exactly what I tell you to do. You’ll get an idea of what I am trying to explain when I say she isn’t trying to hurt anyone. Can you do that for me and stop looking for a battle for a few minutes?”

Trunks nodded once in reply, and tore his gaze off the recumbent girl to watch Ox King as requested. “Her Ki is weakening grandpa Ox. I can feel that much. Shouldn’t we get your Dr. Rind to come in here again, or something?” he told the elderly giant who had been as much family to him as Gohan had been.

“First close your eyes for me.” At the wide eyed look of dismay on Trunks’ face, Ox shook his head bemused. “You have to trust me or you’ll never understand the human half of your own power Trunks.”

“Human half?” Trunks looked at his old mentor’s grandfather as if he had gone mad. “I know plenty about being human..” he tried to argue half- heartedly.

“No son you don’t know anything about being human. You only know how to be Saiyajin, because it’s the easier power to access. Even a lot of humans try to go the Ki based route. I know. I did when I was a youngster, because the soul song takes so much more discipline. But I also learned somewhat how to control the human dimensions of my talents as well. How do you think I got to become the Ox King?”

“Um…, I never really thought about it to be honest.” Trunks sheepish reply brought a smile to the old man’s lips.

“Well I got called Ox King because I can talk to the animals and they understand me. That and I’m as big as a Ox too.” Booming laughter shattered the room’s stillness, breaking Hunter’s concentration. Her ki leapt back up to normal, expected levels, for someone who was in no danger of dying, much to Trunks’ immediate relief.

The breach of her concentration, however, sent her slightly levitated body slamming down onto the bed, eliciting an indignant shriek of pain to be ripped from her lips, before she could block the reaction. She finally managed to grind out between jagged breaths, “What…, the…., Hell?” at the two men in the room, one who had been laughing heartily, the other, who was looking at her like she had grown five heads.

“Oh. Dear Me. Sorry ’bout that Hunter. Trunks was a bit worried about your doing a self healing trance. I was trying to explain a bit about non-Ki power but got a bit side tracked.”

She groaned in mock despair.. “Okies Gramps I gotcha. Let me guess he’s just one more of the clueless right?”

“I am not clueless.” Trunks snapped reflexively, before considering the fact, that in this form of training, he actually knew nothing at all. These were brand new powers Ox had been about to try and explain to him.

“Sure thing hot shot.” she smirked evilly at him. Trunks looked startled. A smirk was something he did, or his father had, which was where his came from. But to see this slip of a girl smirking was too much. She was needling him and it was working all to well. He felt stupid at the moment, since Gohan hadn’t told him anything about this kind of power, and he was highly annoyed with his lost mentor, slash, beloved crush, slash, brother.

“Look, whatever your name is again,” He had completely blanked out her name, in the temper he had brewing, over being embarrassed so deeply, as well as by being unsettled by her blatant power, which he couldn’t sense in the normal fashion. “I am not about to put up with anyone calling me clueless do you hear me. I could rip you apart with a pinky finger if I wanted to. I’m a Super Saiyajin and the strongest fighter on this whole planet. In fact I have even achieved ascended Saiyajin levels so I am beyond Super Saiyajin now. I killed androids seventeen and eighteen without even trying hard.” Trunks was furious over the audacious way the woman looked at him, one eyebrow quirked at an angle that was more insolent than the act of someone paying attention.

In fact, he wondered if she had even heard a word he had said by the look of bemused distance on her face. “Hhhmmmm….” One long drawn out syllable was all he got from her.

“Did you hear a word I just said?”

“My name is Hunter, to the best of my knowledge.. At least it is the only name I’ve any memory of, and that came from a wrist band I had on.. As per the rest.. You are babbling about fighting power for some odd reason.” Her focus on him phased out again to his deep annoyance.

“Look, Hunter, I don’t believe you have the right idea ignoring me here.” Trunks ground out between clenched teeth, only to be hushed by Ox King.

“Hunter is busy talking to someone, Trunks. Let her be a minute.”

“She is not talking! She’s ignoring me!” Trunks huffed.

“No I mean she’s talking through her mind. I have seen that kind of look before. It’s telepathy.”

“Actually it’s imagery, combined with empathic feeling.” Hunter broke into the conversation. Both men turned to look at her at the same instant.

“HUH?” Trunks looked suspiciously at her, all traces of anger gone in the startled moment.

“Do you expect a star dragon to be able to form our words easily, when they have a tongue all their own?” Hunter cocked her head at him, looking as if she were staring down at a peon, instead of being flat on her back in bed, while he sat upright and was currently sitting so that he had to look down upon her. It reminded him of his father’s look when he wanted to intimidate someone. It was just as effective, Trunks had to admit squirming uncomfortably.

He fidgeted with irritation at her high handed tactic, even if he didn’t consider himself to be a vain person. It was a feeling he didn’t like. “No I guess a dragon wouldn’t think like we do.” he managed to answer honestly. He reddened, under the scrutiny he received by this stranger, because he couldn’t think of anything to come back with in his own defense to her obvious dislike of him.

Ox was chuckling softly to himself as he watched the two hot headed individuals growl and snap at each other. It reminded him suddenly of Bulma and Vegeta, even though Trunks wasn’t nearly so volatile as his sire had been. ChiChi was standing in the doorway watching the interplay between Trunks, and her new ‘pet project’ as well.

Son ChiChi grinned, as an idea struck, fully formed in her mind’s eye, on how to get Hunter and Trunks together. She hadn’t missed the similarities between father, and son, over the years. Trunks was often shy, and usually well mannered, unlike his father. But Trunks frequently exhibited the same fire, and willpower, that had been so much a part of the Saiyajin Prince’s life. Trunks loved to fight as much as his father had, and still trained obsessively, even as his father had during his lifetime.

ChiChi thought about how a woman in his life might curb some of Trunks gluttony for physically inflicting punishment, via his training, upon himself. A woman in his life would, hopefully spark his sensitivity to others’ worries over his continual obsession with protecting a planet gone mad, which would hopefully, in turn, get him to slow down. If the right woman came along to fill the empty place, in her purple haired step-nephew’s life, he might truly settle down.

Even if she had detested Vegeta during his lifetime, Bulma had been quite happy when he had been alive. Perhaps Trunks would find similar happiness with a girl, who made him think twice, as Vegeta had with Bulma. ChiChi pondered the possibilities, watching the two youths grumble at each other, over the little details of what it was to have power that wasn’t ki based in nature. She had some work to do and a lot of cajoling to start with. Trunks had, after all, asked if she needed anything repaired beside the door hinges earlier today which was as good an excuse as any to keep him coming over to visit.

Trunks stood on the front porch in the early afternoon sun. It had been a rough couple of hours when he and mother had first arrived. He had seen the desperate ploy behind the heavily bandaged, young woman’s attempt to deflect Aunt ChiChi’s spoon feeding session. He hadn’t expected ChiChi to nearly choke the poor lady to death by cramming a large spoonful of egg-flower soup down her throat in mid-sentence, however. He grinned at the remembered tirade his mother had given Aunt Chichi and the strange look that had passed over the young woman’s face before she appeared to faint. The two women had tried in tandem to wake her up for several minutes before calling the doctor.

The old man, who had shown up, was so feeble Trunks had immediate doubts about his competence. He wasn’t wrong, he decided after the old man had continually asked “Eh what was that? Oh yes lovely weather isn’t it?” among other odd and completely unrelated simple pleasantries, instead of understanding the two anxious women, who were attempting to tell him that he needed to see if Hunter was alright.

His mother had rapidly left the scene with the admonishment that he was to get rid of the quack while she went and got a real doctor. ChiChi had grumbled about it not being her fault that the elderly Mr. Rind, was the only doctor in a hundred miles, that could come and see to the young woman’s care, when Bulma had made her loud announcement, before slamming out the front door in a huff.

Trunks didn’t blame Aunt ChiChi for having the old geezer come in and look at the girl’s injuries. He had helped her bathe and clean the wounds the last time he had visited. He had to admit that the old man knew how to stitch up an arm, a thigh, and numerous deep gashes in her mid-section and back. She had slept through the ordeal of getting her wounds doctored, re-bandaged and bathed without so much as a flinch, due to the heavy dosage of pain killers that the doctor had prescribed.

Trunks had tried to ignore the fact that, for a teenager, the girl was well formed, and anything but girlish because of that intimate encounter. She had the longest legs he had ever seen, and a shapely, yet she was still athletic in build. Well toned muscles were neatly defined without being gaudy and oversized. Her torso was long without being overly so, even though it had a cross hatch of thin scars covering it. Her arms were long and well shaped from what he could see of them outside of the cast, bandages or badly swollen, stitched regions, including the numerous scars that they boasted also.

She had a dainty, heart shaped face, but her vee shaped stubborn jaw line was very much a dominate feature. Wide large eyes and thick, dark lashes dominated her peaches and cream face. She had a sensual face, more-so than a classically beautiful one. Hair that was close, but not quite black, rippled like a flag on a windy day across the pillow her head had lain upon. The natural semi-curling, baby fine texture flowed like a living entity even though it wasn’t truly moving, begging for someone to run their fingers through it.

This strange young woman was obviously used to living hard and probably knew only too well how to use the weapons that sat in the living room that he had finished cleaning and honing for her while awaiting his mother’s return.

He couldn’t get the short period when she had been awake out of his mind because of her facial expressions as ChiChi had badgered and pushed her to eat and take the foul smelling and probably worse tasting pain medication. Compound the short introductions, with the help he had felt compelled to offer in getting the girl’s wounds redressed and cleaned, and Trunks found himself shaken by his thoughts of the young woman.

He already was overly worried about that nasty gash in her right arm, and the deepest one on her thigh. Both were darkly colored and swollen to stitch ripping degrees. Both were seeping horrible smelling, pasty textured fluids and it was clear that infection had set in. The one that was the most swollen was her right arm. The deep, jagged gash started just below her armpit and ran halfway to her wrist.

It was well known that Velociraptor claws carried nasty bacteria that could cause gangrene, and worse skin eating infections, to set in if not treated appropriately. Cleaning wasn’t always capable of removing all the virulent strains of skin eating staff infections that the animals carried naturally, so it was routine for doctors to operate on the patients, removing the immediate tissue surrounding such wounds, and giving heavy antibiotics to patients who managed to survive Velociraptor attacks at all. He had to admire the fact that the young woman had held on as long as she had in such good shape for all the damage that the raptor pack had caused.

The old doctor grandpa Ox had found hadn’t able to get his hands on sulfa drugs, much less strong enough antibiotics, and most likely was too shaky to really be effective at cutting the worst of the damaged flesh away without doing permanent harm to the young woman anyway.

Trunks found himself, once more, wondering where her family was. She almost didn’t look old enough to be on her own. She had said she was nineteen years old, but she looked younger to his eyes. She had to have family somewhere nearby.

He suddenly had a sickening thought that perhaps the Velociraptors had made a snack of her parents before going after her. It was known to happen. The pack order meant only the strongest ate first. The weaker ones would have gone after the easiest pray, the youngest member of the family as it were. Of course Hunter was anything but weak, as her verbal sparring with aunt Chichi proved, among other forms of obvious evidence like her scars and weapons. Her determined independent nature gave credence to her ability to stubbornly stand her own ground in a fight of any nature he believed.

Grandpa Ox had told him that there were at least nine carcasses that he had noted when he had been loading the young battered girl into his vehicle, the day he had stumbled upon the battle. Nine was a slightly larger than normal pack for raptors. But Ox had said five others had left when he had arrived and shooed them off the girl, who had stood defiant and bleeding almost unto death, trying to act as if she had everything under control. That brought the total of raptors to fourteen which a much larger than normal pack, Trunks knew for a fact.

Trunks smirked. He could imagine the scene, after having witnessed her reactions to having ChiChi try to mother her. She was a fighter and she didn’t bother trying to hide it from anyone. He had to admire her spunk, if not her foolish brashness. His smirk grew into a full, bashful grin at the idea of his mentally accusing anyone else of brash foolishness, especially after some of the stunts he had been known to pull in the past.

He had been even worse than ChiChi’s unwilling houseguest not so long ago he reminded himself as he turned back towards the door of the small cottage. He also found that her brash foolishness was one of the things he liked about her, even when she was quite grouchy from the pain she was obviously enduring from her injuries.

Trunks stopped short of opening ChiChi’s front door, hand on the knob, contemplating his reactions to the young woman currently sleeping in Gohan’s old bedroom. He couldn’t help but grimace at the memory of his own physical reactions to her body, when he had been helping ChiChi with her earlier in the week. He felt uncomfortable momentarily with the knowledge, as it made him feel disloyal to Gohan’s memory somehow.

He recalled the moment he had become aware of Hunter, as a physically attractive body, with a hesitant and heavy heart. Gohan had been dead a fairly long time, so Trunks knew logically he shouldn’t have felt guilty in the least, but he still had that hesitant twinge of guilt every time Hunter’s body rose in his mind in the past two days to plague him. Trunks remembered only too clearly how Hunter had looked when she had been out like a light from the heavy narcotic pain medication she had been given. Although he had tried not to notice her as anything but an injured person in need of help, he had noticed such things as her body build, and how nice her figure and legs were, even with the scars she had already accumulated before the raptor attack.

He had been far too aware of her curves when he had held her up at aunt ChiChi’s request, so ChiChi wouldn’t have to strain her back, to get the wounds across her back cleaned up. He had even held onto the girl while ChiChi had changed the bedding so that there wouldn’t be sweat damp sheets to lie her back on.

Although she had been dressed in a light, oversized night shirt that he recognized as being an old shirt of Gohan’s, Trunks had noticed every detail of her body with an electric clarity that he didn’t want to think about. He had been momentarily caught off guard by the idea that the spunky lady in his arm, was probably the only one brassy enough to give him ‘the what for’ as his mother used to call her disciplinarian talks with him.

This was also her reasoning for his father having gotten together with her he had learned, in the few moments that Bulma had bothered to tell him anything about his father, Vegeta no Oji. Their fights had also been �the what for’ syndrome as Trunks had re-termed the verbal wars his parents had engaged in during his time in the alternate dimension he had visited repeatedly, trying to alter his world’s woes.

Something about the dark haired woman had simply reached out, silently screaming that she was his equal in a feminine form. Some dormant instinct, probably from his father’s race, had grabbed him by the nose, and tossed him head first into a momentary vertigo before he could regain complete control of his mind. Trunks was much too thrilled with the sensation, and had made a point of staying well out of the way of Aunt ChiChi’s need of assistance ever since. Trunks had refused to enter Gohan’s old bedroom, even when ChiChi had nearly choked Hunter to death earlier, leaving the details to his mother instead of jumping in without thinking.

He needed to stay away from the feisty young lady that he couldn’t shut out of his mind, after only a few minutes of meeting her. He was definitely losing control of whatever these suddenly, not so dormant instincts we, that had begun to shift how he thought about almost everything and everyone. He would have done just about anything for the chance to ask his father what had happened to him in Gohan’s bedroom the other day, if his father were still alive in this timeline to ask. He thought back to that intensely charged few minutes where he had cradled the unconscious girl in his arms, sitting besides Gohan’s old bed, and was surprised to realize how clearly he could remember her smell, her skin’s texture, her breathing rhythm and more details he immediately tried to shut out as he found himself jarred into another uncomfortably aroused state.

Here he was, hiding from al those women who were chasing him, as best as he could, and yet he was having fantasies about one that was practically on her death bed. Hadn’t he learned to stop being an idiot yet, he wondered as he blew out an exasperated breath in his vexation over this instantaneous attraction he felt for the stranger in Gohan’s house. Trunks shook his head, trying to clear the clutter, that roamed through his mind, both past and present. His lavender hair momentarily shimmered in the breeze, and tickled his nose, as he grabbed for the semi-fading image of Gohan that rippled across his memory momentarily. He still missed Gohan immensely, but he couldn’t bring his mentor back, and the other Gohan in that long lost alternate universe he had helped save, by dying and being revived, wasn’t an option for him. He was the main protector of the survivors of this hellish and cracked landscaped world, and he wouldn’t turn his back on those who needed him most.

Trunks wondered absently if the tall, lithe warrioress inside had a boyfriend that she would soon return to as soon s she was recovered from the dinosaur attack. She was already showing an independent enough tendency that she might not have had anyone to lean on in years, he reasoned to himself, in what he felt amounted to an almost despicable attempt to reassure himself that she was probably not attached to anyone. He tried to force the thought back out of his head. “She’s not for me. I lost the one I loved a long time ago thanks to the Androids.” Trunks muttered to himself trying to get the continually re-emerging images of a battle hardened feminine form out of his mind.

Trunks knew the symptoms of abandonment syndrome from too much experience. He had seen too many orphans, too often, through the years. They were the hardest and proudest. They sought to survive above all else and they hated almost everyone. He had been told about the roots of the syndrome by one of his teachers while he had gone through his advanced studies between sparring matches with Gohan so long ago. Children who suffered from the trauma of initial un-faced loss, usually grew up to have such a fear of further abandonment that they would push away anyone who tried to get too close to them.

As independent as Hunter was perhaps she was one of those tough and isolated youths who refused to walk beside anyone out of a sense of self preservation. She might insist on being a loner, as most did who had lost parents and been forced to live as best they could, off whatever refuse they could scavenge. It would explain a lot of the scars she had seen on her body at least. Such abandoned children often paid heavily for their survival over time. Trunks opened the door, wincing as it squealed in protest to being used. Trunks made a mental note to bring over some oil and tools to fix the hinges on the door.

He needed the excuse to get his mind off of the current dilemma he was experiencing at Capsule Corporation with the gaggle of women, who refused to leave his mother’s property, even when the police arrived and arrested them for trespassing, and squatting on the Corporation lawn. Grandpa Ox was getting too old and arthritic to be doing a lot of the household repairs that were obviously being ignored, such as the squeaky door hinges that assaulted his ears every time he visited of late.

It was beginning to show in other small ways that Trunks was sure would prove dangerous to the inhabitants soon. He had noticed a rather bad molt of light in the den earlier in the afternoon, that hinted at a hole in the ceiling. Leaky, dome shaped roofs were not something he would allow his spunky aunt ChiChi, or grandpa Ox to contend with. He was far stronger, and could fly, unlike his elders. He knew that if Gohan were still alive, he would have fixed the roof, and made the many repairs that needed to be done, long before now.

Trunks berated himself for not having visited several months ago like he had originally planned. He shook his lavender head ruefully, as he banished the dark, brooding direction his mind had begun to spiral downwards towards, from thinking of his long dead mentor, beloved, and brother of his heart. Losing the most important person in his life was a wound that still had not healed even after so many years. He stood just inside the doorway, listening to the sounds of aunt ChiChi cooking, reminiscing about a time when he would have heard Gohan laughing at him as he charged into the house, headed for a delicious meal he only got at aunt ChiChi’s.

He smirked at the fond memory, as he inhaled the smells of baking bread, and other delicious aromas that still could make his stomach growl after eating a huge meal only a couple hours before. ‘Mother may have learned to cook finally,’ He thought impishly, ‘but she’ll never be half the chef aunt ChiChi is.’ Trunks smirked, as he walked into the kitchen, hoping to grab a quick meal.

Hunter was not amused. She hurt all over, and here was that most stubborn and overly smothering, motherly, old woman trying to push more food down her gullet. She sighed in disgust. Mrs. ChiChi meant well, but it was truly annoying to be treated like a five year old when she had been on her own as long as she could remember. If it weren’t for the bone deep gash, that ran from her inner left thigh, to below her knee, which rendered her practically immobile, she would have just left without a backwards glance she snarled to herself silently as Chichi tried once more to spoon feed her.

Of course then there was the big burly guy who the much smaller lady called father. He had the ‘powers’ and she sensed them with her partially trained inner hearing. She wondered if he even really knew he had them. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had been using them on a fluke when he had scared off the last four raptors that had been as set on eating her, as she was on not being eaten, a few days earlier.

‘Curiosity kills the cat.’ she flippantly reminded herself silently as she tried to keep up the stony, silent treatment she had leveled on the small, overbearing woman all morning. Talking to the woman was of no use, she had already discovered. ‘She has to be crazy,’ Hunter decided as she turned her head away once again from the proffered spoon. She still had one good arm she fumed inwardly, as the salt and pepper haired woman tried again to feed her.

“You need to eat or you will never get better. So come on and stop being such an immature brat, young lady.” ChiChi snapped at her recalcitrant patient. She was practically glowing with excitement at having the younger woman under foot, or more to the point, under heavy bandages and immobilized for Chichi to take care of. She hadn’t had so much to challenge her since Gohan had died battling the androids against her wishes so many years before. This young woman was definitely proving almost as challenging as trying to keep Gohan out of the terrible war with the androids. This young girl was almost as difficult a challenge to keep under wraps, and one ChiChi was adamant to win.

ChiChi clucked in disapproval at the raised eyebrow the teen shot her. Fiery irritation flickered in green rimmed, golden-eyed depths, before her irascible guest could hide it. “I appreciate your concern for my person, but, I do not require it.” The bitten out phrase, through clenched teeth was decidedly unfriendly and cold. She wasn’t from these parts as had been established on her first day within the confines of Gohan’s old room. She had screeched in a foreign tongue, before slipping into the international trade language that had been favored before the androids had destroyed the planet-wide commerce.

Now ChiChi’s reticent, and badly injured guest was using the most formal form of that trade language to try and not offend, while giving her the boot, out of her long dead son’s old bedroom. “Well, you can show your appreciation by trying to be a little more cooperative.” ChiChi shot back with her own hot headed candor.

“I have a good arm, mistress. You don’t have to spoon feed me.” black-cherry waves of hair rippled as the younger woman yanked her head farther away from the proffered spoon. The long, waving tresses only heightening the set of a stubbornly set, delicate jaw.

“Good arm my foot!” ChiChi exploded. “If you call the forty-seven stitches in your right arm, a good arm, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.” She glared at her young charge in her most intimidating fashion as she tried to exert the same control she had held over her son and late husband over this slip of a girl. “Your other arm is broken in three places and you can’t use the right one without tearing out the stitches because of the swelling. So you can just stop this nonsense and eat like a good young lady should!”

The sound of girlish giggling broke the two female combatants out of their heated, staring, snarling, grudge match. Bulma was standing in the doorway, a hand covering her mouth partially, laughter dancing in her eyes. Hunter couldn’t help it. A groan issued forth with the desperate airs of one who knows she is about to be doomed to some hideous torture. “Please tell me you aren’t gonna play backup for this one?” She jerked her right arm towards ChiChi, speaking through clenched teeth, wincing as the motion stretched her already sore stitches to the limits of endurance. She didn’t scream or make a sound, only the suddenly pasty pallor of her skin giving her pain away.

“Nope. I don’t need to do backup duties for ChiChi. She’s a big girl now.” Bulma winked at the young woman who grimaced in disgust.

“Oh great just what I needed, another joker.” Hunter bit out, unwittingly showing her pain wracked foul mood to advantage.

“Hey, I’m not so bad.” Grandpa Ox stood just behind Bulma with his hands in his pockets, looking hurt. “I thought you enjoyed the funny stories I told you yesterday.” He looked shattered at the notion she might not have enjoyed the tales he had used to break the monotony she was going insane with.

“Sorry sir. It isn’t you. I’m just not used to being spoon fed, and I don’t intend to cooperate when I can damned well feed myself.” She glared menacingly at ChiChi who didn’t move an inch, nor bat an eye, at the implied threat in that gaze.

“Sure you can. I can see it now, you’ll rip out all the stitches that the doctor put in your right arm, just to prove how tough you are. Well I’m not buying it young lady. I raised a half-Saiyajin son and was married to a full blooded Saiyajin and if there were ever men who thought they were invincible it was my two. Now open up and quit being a pain in the neck.”

Hunter growled deep in her throat, animally. She had caught sight of the purple haired fellow that had been by a couple days before. He had been a great distraction for the prim, overly proper ChiChi on his last visit she recalled with glee. “Hey your nephew’s back, why doncha’,….” She never got a chance to finish the thought as ChiChi pushed the spoon into her protesting mouth before she could stop her. Hunter gagged on the unexpected liquid flowing down her throat. She coughed hard a few times and tried to get her breath back as her eyes watered from the trauma of near asphyxiation.

Bulma rushed over and pounded the dark haired teen on the back, as both men looked into the room, cringing. “If that’s your way of feeding her no wonder she’s fighting you ChiChi. I’m not even that big a klutz.” Bulma snapped over the girl’s head, glaring at her long time friend.

Hunter choked off her retort as the two older women started to argue. It was gonna be one helluva long day she decided as she closed her eyes and dropped into a healer’s trance again. The faster she tuned out the ruckus, the faster she could get well and away from these well intentioned maniacs like Mrs. ChiChi. She centered and dropped herself into the core of her soul song, well away from all the discord, and pain, that had recently entered her silent and lonely life. Her last thought was ‘Even in slavery I at least got some peace and quiet, even if it was only when I was tied up after a flogging.’

Lost child so deep within me I call to you.
Now’s the time to relearn love
and forget Pain and hate.
For I now understand how to give you ease.
Little child sitting in corners so dark and drear,
I call to you my internal, yet long lost friend.
Lost child, Littlest child, My Soul inside of me
I know we can find happiness for it is a great gift,
that life does bring to those who answer.
Removing the dust of disuse,
Clean out the ashes of despair!
Take back the home through self love
Clear your sight!
learn the willingness to fight for what is right,
For the body is your great temple.

“Return of the Soul”
Original published poem By J. Oden
Copyright retained by author.

***

The dark cloak of nightfall had claimed the back yard by the time he reached home. Home, the only one he’d ever known, once torn and broken, newly refurbished and lit by the warm glow of electricity again. It was strange to see the light shining through the upper stories, like beacons breaking through the gloom of a despairing world now renewed, Trunks thought as he landed in the back yard. All of his life had been spent creeping in shadows of dead buildings and rubble, hiding from the androids until three short years ago when he had returned with the power at his command to destroy them once and for all.

He grinned as he moved towards the back door, saying a quick prayer of thanks to the Gods that he was so well hidden from so many pairs of prying female eyes that he knew always awaited his return. He dreaded this part of coming home, so rarely returned home before the darkest of shadows had fallen over the Capsule Corporation headquarters to help disguise him.

That was the only time the trespassers would be unable to see his arrival from above, as they watched for him every day. He smirked silently as he successfully wound his way past several of the makeshift, temporary shelters that some of these determined husband hunters had erected in their near frenzied attempts to snag him for a personal trophy.

Trunks didn’t mind the stealth he had to use to evade the horny women around his house at the moment, since it bought him some time before he would have to listen to his mother’s grumbling about how he had filled up too much on Aunt Chichi’s cooking. He knew she wouldn’t really mind if he helped to clear the table and get things into their new dishwasher.

There would always be need for a midnight snack after all, and leftovers always worked better than his trying to make something from scratch at two in the morning he would reason if she was unusually grouchy over some invention not doing what she had desired the first time around.

Bulma was waiting as he knew she would be. He could see the need to know everything Aunt ChiChi and the Ox King had said to him today. Mother always craved news of her long time friend. She was still miffed though, that ChiChi and Ox refused to come and live with them in the city, Trunks knew only too well. In short he had been sent over to the Son household today to try his best to get the elderly pair to come and stay with them once again.

His mother wasn’t a young sprite any longer either, he realized as he walked into the kitchen, a shy, but relieved smile on his face as Bulma came rushing up to him, her silvery blue mane swept up in a messy bun, a thousand questions whizzing past his ears as she decided to take the initiative since Trunks hadn’t yet jumped onto the topic she most wanted to hear about, even though he had barely managed to skulk through the door.

“Well what did they say? Did you have any better luck convincing them to come and stay here than I did a few weeks ago? When are they coming? Did you try the wheedling technique I told you to use? Answer me. Darn you Trunks!” Her voice rose quickly as he raised a placating hand to stop her tirade before it got to the point of making his overly sensitive ears bleed. Only his mother and aunt ChiChi had managed that particular feat, but he was not about to repeat a three week hiatus of deaf living again when he could counter it with answers.

“Mom, settle down. I’ll tell you everything if you just give me a minute.” He waved her towards their new kitchen table as he walked to the refrigerator and grabbed some juice from the top shelf. He snatched a glass from the glistening new cabinets on his way back to the table, where he would let her know all about his visit today.

Bulma sat at the table, fingers drumming, while she tried to curb her impatience. “She won’t come, will she?” Bulma fired off with her normal aplomb and fire.

“She said she would visit if we wanted, but only for the winter. She feels she needs to stay at her home the rest of the year. She said everything she is, and has ever loved, is in her own home. She just can’t see giving it away or leaving it behind, especially not now that she has the new kid around.”

“New kid? What new kid?” Bulma’s eyes grew round with excitement.

“Some young woman that grandpa Ox rescued a couple weeks back. She’s pretty badly beat up, but from what he said, and from the looks of the big axe and sword she had with her that he showed me, she apparently decided to be a pretty tough customer for a pack of very hungry velociraptors.” Trunks smirked at his mom with a distinct touch of merriment as he settled in to spend the rest of the evening telling Bulma about what was known of the hot headed, nineteen year old girl, ChiChi had decided to saddle herself with.

Author’s Notes:  This story is freely inspired from the movie “Back to the Future”.
A disembodied, echoing, voice drifted to the group, “I’m ok Daddy. Briloshen thought grandpa was trying to hurt me. He’s only trying to protect me. Grandpa wouldn’t stop yelling at me, so Briloshen has me in some kind of energy bubble. I can hear everything, and I can see everyone, but you can’t see me I guess.”

“Pan? Where are you?” Gohan yelled out to his daughter, face pale, fear lacing his voice, in near panic.

“Daddy you have to make grandpa stop. Please?! I didn’t mean to make everyone mad. I just wanted you and momma to stop fighting, that’s all. I wasn’t being a coward.” the hysterical tone of his daughter’s voice, and the empathic anguish that Gohan was feeling from her, gave him enormous energy to use.

“Pan We’ll get you back, mark my words.” Gokou thundered at thin air. “You won’t get away with stealing a member of my family you hulking beast!”

“Shut up!” Gohan thundered at his father, with a force that stunned everyone, including Gokou. “Didn’t you hear anything Pan just said, father?! Or are you so blinded by your own self righteous stupidity, you can’t possibly think of anyone else right now?!” Gohan’s words slashed through the empty space like razor sharp blades, impaling Gokou with a fury he’d never shown before.

“Gohan, I know you’ve had a lot of trouble of late, so I’m going to ignore what you just said.” Gokou growled back at his oldest son.

“Oh no you won’t, dad.” Sarcasm dripped in Gohan’s tone. Trunks could feel the massive force building in Gohan’s centre. He had been under too much stress for too long, and he’d do whatever it took to make certain Pan was safe, even if it meant ripping his own father apart in the process.

“You took off and trained Uub instead of sticking by mother when I was a teenager, abandoning Goten, and our mother for ten years, father. You’ve got a lot of nerve trying to take over with my daughter for the role you ignored with Goten. I can forgive your absence with me. Cell had killed you.” Gohan glared at his father, trembling in rage.

Gokou stared at his oldest son, incomprehension giving him a comical expression. Gohan continued his tirade with a vengeance, “You were brought back to life after Buu. You could have chosen to take care of your younger son. You chose to resurrect Buu instead, and train him.”

Gohan pointed an accusing finger in his father’s direction, then pointed to his own chest to emphasize his next unabashed set down. “I raised my kid brother, with mom. So shut up and leave my daughter’s well being to me!” Gohan’s tone had dropped to a throaty growl of rage, shocking everyone present except Trunks. Even though his voice had softened, Gohan finally unleashed all of his resentments and silently contained pain after so many years. His anger exploded upon the one person who had let him down the most during his life time.

“How long have you felt like this, Gohan?” Gokou scratched his head in consternation. He obviously wanted to fight back, but had no argument that he could use against the venomous outburst being levelled against him.

“How long? I’ve tried to respect you no matter what’s happened. But I’ve always resented your choice of putting a very destructive, magical creation, over your flesh and blood, father!”

Vegeta smirked at his rival’s predicament. Gohan was flooding their senses with incredible power, even though he hadn’t transformed into a super Saiyajin, unlike the rest of the rest of them. Gohan was ripe to bring his father to his knees, with his fists, if provoked, or so it appeared to the Prince.

“Gohan, why are you yelling at dad?” Goten looked almost as confused by this unusual behaviour his big brother was exhibiting, as his father. “Mom’s always said dad was a great man. So why are you being so nasty to him?” Goten tried to get his older brother to explain himself as the silence descended, reaching a tense, unbearable pitch.

“Our father is a great man, when it comes to defending those who are too weak to defend themselves, and in trouble, Goten. If there is a world in need of a saviour, there’s nobody better to call on.” Gohan spoke calmly and with stress upon the words like need, saviour, and world. Yet his next sentence reduced Vegeta to gleeful laughter.

“Our father just can’t seem to get his act together to take care of his own family, since he seems to think mother is some kind of invincible demi-god or more realistically, a tyrant that the Gods would be smart to be afraid of.”

Trunks showed no surprise at the deep seated rage he heard in Gohan’s tone. He’d known of this long before now. He’d felt the many resentments, and the pain of abandonment, Gohan had stuffed deep within himself, hiding from his own conscious knowledge, as well as from everyone around him. Trunks knew that Gohan was long overdue to explode, and Pan was the straw that would probably snap the too short fuse.

“Shut up, Vegeta! this isn’t funny!” Gokou snarled at his shorter counter-part who had begun guffawing once more with a fresh gust of gleeful fits of hysterical laughter at being witness to Gohan’s blunt description of Gokou’s thoughts concerning his own wife.

“Oh, but it is, Kakarotto. At last, the oldest son challenges his father. It’s so very Saiyajin. Don’t you think?” Vegeta smirked as he considered the influence of Trunks’ personality upon the milder tempered Gohan, who was bristling quite admirably at his sire. Vegeta hoped that Gohan would hold out long enough to tell his bossy mother off with the same spunk.

Vegeta turned the Star Might Dragon Lord, with his smirk still firmly in place, asking conversationally, “Will my brat and the girl’s father do as good enough body guards to insure the girl’s release?” jabbing a dismissive finger in Gohan and Trunks direction as he spoke to the huge dragon.

“I believe Miss Aurora would be more suitable to see to the girl’s needs at this time, than her harsh spoken Kines.” The mighty dragon replied levelly. “It is obvious to me that the girl has suffered much of late, and she needs the understanding that Aurora and her Kines alone seem capable of giving her at this time.”

“Vegeta, if I go with my dad, and Trunks, then the cops will throw them in jail, thanks to my mom.” Pan’s disembodied voice floated on the breeze, reminding the Prince no Oji of the main predicament that faced the dark haired Demi-Saiyajin his son was bonded to so completely.

“Bah, They can blast the weakling fools if they try to do anything to them.” Vegeta retorted to the panicky tone that spoke from somewhere above the group.

“Father, that isn’t the answer to this problem and you know it!” Trunks yelled at his parent in disgust.

“And why not? It would put a stop to Gohan’s stupid last mate’s behaviour if you ask me!” he sneered at his son in contempt.

I believe I have an alterative to put an end to this stale mate.” A commanding feminine voice entered the argument, carried on currents of palpable music, and waves of power. A wormhole formed in the centre of the make shift battle field, shimmering out of existence as a small group of three oddly dressed women, and a single man appeared in it’s wake.

An ancient woman, her head held high, wearing strange, yet simplistic robes, of an almost pearlised, colourless hue, stepped forward, the three much younger individuals, silently keeping pace behind their obvious leader, alert postures speaking of their own readiness to hurl themselves into whatever danger awaited them to protect their leader.

None of the elderly woman’s entourage spoke as they took up a loose defensive parameter around their leader. Their hard eyes seeking out every detail of the scene with alacricity that was noted by the Saiyajins who watched from their lofty places in the air above.

“Queen Unifier?” Briloshen’s voice carried startled respect, as the elderly woman carrying a huge gemstone staff, glowing with an eerie purplish hued light moved forward to confront the group at large.

“Huh? Oh my Gods, Your Majesty?!” Aurora dropped the powerful shield she’d been manifesting, dropping into a deep prostrated bow before the ancient woman who strode proudly forward. All the members of the party who had come to visit Yajarobie, likewise dropped into deep bows of reverence ad respect.

“Stand. I am too old for all this bowing and scraping. It gets on my nerves.” the taciturn command was given in a strong, yet reedy thin voice, that was somehow at odds with the frail appearance of the woman who spoke.

“To what do we owe this great honour Queen Unifier?” The massive Star Might Lord enquired, curiosity peaked.

“I am here to put an end to this melodrama that is unfolding before you all destroy the world that I have become fond of living on. Is that a problem?” The irascible tone the woman used brooked no argument. She swept forward at her own stately pace, literally dragging her floating targets out of the air with a wave of her long staff as she came.

Gokou and Vegeta were the first to feel the substantial force of her power. The two oldest Saiyajins there, they were both taken completely by surprise as chains of raw energy wrapped around their bodies, dragging them out of the sky with ease, and locking into a solid form as their feet hit the ground. The Chains held even though both were fighting in Super Saiyajin form to break free.

“Do I need to likewise chain your mouth shut, Kines Leader?” The old Crone glared at the huge being with a furious eye.

“Do you truly think such paltry things would hold me little Queen Unifier?” The massive head dropped to the ground, glowing blue orbs flashing with mirth, and something decidedly dangerous.

“No, I am aware that they wouldn’t hold you, as you are one of the most ancient of beings. But at least it would insure that I would get your attention long enough to possibly get you to listen to reason.” The tart reply gained a rumble of amusement from the Star Might Dragon, and a nod of his huge head in return.

“Perhaps, little mortal, or it might just become my intention to take it as an offence to my sense of honour.”

“That I doubt to the extreme. You know very well that I would only do something of that nature if I was forced to use all my power to try and prevent an unseemly occurrence, Great Lord.”

“This is truth that I hear in your voice. So be it. You will have no need to attempt to use your significant mortal powers in a contest with my own. You have the Kines word upon this.” the large beast settled himself more comfortably on the ground, retracting the formidable weapons that had erupted from various portions of his body with a harsh clacking sound.

Goten, Gohan, and Trunks were already on the ground, chose to show respect for the unknown elder, who Yajarobie’s niece and others were showing such deep veneration for. None of the three demi-Saiyajins bowed, as they were unsure of this person’s real status, since none had ever heard the term Queen-Unifier in their studies of the world governments known to exist, though all dipped their heads in acknowledgment, as the elderly woman stopped in the centre of the group, if only because she had done what none of them could have achieved in gaining the Star Might Dragon’s complete attention, and gaining a truce of sorts, if only for the moment.

“Just who do you think,..ermmnhph” Vegeta and Gokou’s mouths were silenced with a flick of the woman’s wrist as she looked at the Star Might Dragon, ignoring the two great planetary protectors as if they were insignificant in the schematics at play.

“Lord Briloshen, be so good as to release the girl, who stands at the heart of this matter, that I may learn the truth of this day’s events.” The old woman spoke with force to the large creature.

Author’s Note : LOL If you are wondering who the Queen Unifier is, well That gets explained in the next chapter. I felt that I had to have the two full blood Saiyajins of the group getting a few new surprises, and even more unsettled by the events going on… which comes in the next chapter. :-) It just seems appropriate since it will tie into the past to alternate future to the time line they came from in the first place ideal that this challenge is supposed to embody.

Author’s Notes:  This story is freely inspired from the movie “Back to the Future”.
Gohan and Trunks were scouring the north district when they felt the first shimmering force of Gokou’s Ki rising. Both stopped dead in their aerial flight, heads cocking towards the direction Gokou’s energy was coming from.

“What do you suppose is wrong Gohan?” Trunks sounded worried and more than a little irritable as he addressed his significant other.

“I can’t imagine why dad would power up since he’s looking for Pan, unless……” Gohan’s words trickled off to nothing as he looked towards the central part of Satan City, his brow creased in a worried frown.

“What? What do you mean unless? Gohan explain what’s on your mind before I get really worried!” Trunks scowled at his dark haired companion, looking as if he was about to grab him and shake him like a rag doll. Gohan never had a chance to answer as a huge ball of bright greenish hued light, that scorched everything in it’s path, erupted from the centre of town, levelling several buildings, and most of the trees in their vicinity.

The force of the blast ripped up telephone poles as well, leaving behind a fair amount of destruction as it swept over the two demi-Saiyajins, hurling them both to the ground. “What the Hell…?” Trunks yelped as he leapt to his feet first, Gohan rising more slowly, jaw hanging open in surprise.

The lavender haired prince turned towards his dark haired mate, looking troubled. “That wasn’t Gokou ,…. was it?” The doubt shone in his eyes as he asked tremulously.

“No way! That was definitely not my dad. I think we have a lot more than Pan’s disappearance on our hands, Trunks. We’d better get over there and help dad out if he needs it.” Gohan shook himself and leapt into the air, fear gripping his heart.

Trunks nodded to himself and leapt after his beloved with no other thought, but to protect Gohan from whatever had the kind of power levels to do so much damage as they looked down upon, as they flashed overhead, gaining speed in their urgent race to the epicentre of the massive debris path that now lay beneath them.

***

Vegeta’s head whipped up, and he shuddered, as an old, but somehow familiar energy washed over the Capsule Corporation household. He felt the gravity room shudder under the added stress of the presence that flashed and swelled around the house. His eyes unfocused as his mind trailed back to a long ago, distant time in his life when he had been temporarily assigned to Glacier, and Ice, King Cold’s elder brother, and his son’s battalion to bring down the Sazarealz planetary population.

He had been fourteen when he had felt that kind of power, and presence, for the first time. It was an unchanging nightmare that plagued him even now as a grown man. He had learned the true definition of terror that had no definable depths, as he had witnessed the large animal that had lain waste to the whole of Glacier and Ice’s vast warrior assembly.

The young animal had destroyed most of the elite class battalion during it’s power up, in preparation to strike out with a speed and power that had defied description.

He remembered those massive jaws with their orange acidic fluid that had eaten a hole in the ground mere inches from his boots, and those glowing bluish flaming eyes that had glared at him, tapping into his every thought, dissecting his very soul in a flash of burning agony before it had pulled it’s massive head back and telepathically had given him the right to flee the battle scene.

The beast had been called Star Might by the natives. They had left him unmolested as he had been freed by the Kines’ hatchling to leave in peace. The power ebbed as Vegeta shook his head, clearing it of the image that had been the source of so much fear in his lifetime.

If one of the great Star Mights had landed on Earth…..? He refused to allow himself the luxury of finishing the thought as it formed in his head. He only knew he had a better chance than anyone of communicating with the creature if it was one of the huge draconic species that so many worlds worshiped as Gods. He had met with, and survived, one of their kind. He knew what to do, to survive the wrath of another, he was pretty sure.

Vegeta straightened his shoulders, a look that proclaimed that he would die if need be, firm upon his features. He knew that he would die with his dignity, if only to protect what he had found on this little planet, on the edge of known space if that is what it came to when he confronted the ancient being that was now on his adopted home world creating chaos to it’s delight. He had a daughter, a wife, and a grown son, who he wouldn’t stand by and see killed by anyone, or anything.

The dark haired prince swept out of the gravity chamber, features set in a harsh mask of indifference, as he stalked through the Capsule Corporation household, heading towards the doorway and his awaiting destiny.

***

Gokou took up a defensive stance as the alien dragon unleashed a blast of green fire from it’s maw. The horrible power that hurtled through the air, towards his position, was too powerful for him to block, but it was also too powerful for him to allow to hit the planet beneath his feet. The concussion of the blast would rip the city apart at the very least, and it had the potential to destroy the planet also.

Goten, sensing the dilemma, leapt to his father’s side, his own aura a brilliant golden glow, as he shot a blast of Ki straight into the ball of green fire that shot towards the two Super Saiyajins like a comet of divine retribution.

Although she was not pleased with having to unite her abilities with those of the arrogant Saiyajin, who had irritated the Star Might Dragon in the first place, Aurora added her own substantial power to the combined attack that the two Saiyajins who were valiantly trying to alter the fierce blast’s course by hitting the energy wave with everything they had.

Aurora was aware of the consequences of failing to turn the huge ball of power from it’s unintentional, earth bound strike. Aurora didn’t care whether the arrogant, angry man, who had angered Briloshen, survived or not, she didn’t want to die just because Briloshen was using enough power to destroy the formidable powerhouse that had so foolishly attacked the Dragon’s friend without conscious awareness of the consequences of his actions.

She screamed at the huge beastly apparition, who was unthinkingly about to destroy his target, as well as everyone on the small world. “Briloshen you have to stop or you’ll kill us all! We don’t breathe vacuum like you do damn you!”

The huge dragon heard her, she supposed as the blast suddenly shifted, rolling back up towards the huge beast’s maw, vanishing, along with the combined heavy blast of Ki that Goten and Gokou had fired into the massive ball of fiery force Briloshen unleashed upon them. “As you wish Star friend. I will dispose of these fools the slow way then.” the huge jaws moved as the ancient animal spoke in halting basic language, a strange hissing, syllabant accent tarnishing the words.

“It takes a lot more than words to get rid of me.” Gokou shouted at the monstrous beast crouching in front of him. “You took my grand daughter and I’m only gonna give you one chance to return her or I’ll rip you apart!”

Eerie blazing blue orbs, whirled with flashes of lightning, glaring down at the tall Saiyajin warrior in contempt. “You will not hurt me nor anyone of the Kines’ friends.” Faster than Gokou could comprehend, the attack slashed across his back, long spikes slashing his Gi to ribbons as the monstrous creature’s tail whipped across his body burying him in several feet of granite.

Gokou lunged up from the newly formed crater, charging towards the immensely powerful dragon intent on hitting it hard. His attack never got close to it’s target as one of the huge blade like hands that had emerged from the Star Might’s chest whipped forward, ripping into his shoulder, flinging him back with terrible force.

Gokou slammed into the ground once more, leaving another huge crater in his wake. He picked himself up more slowly, checking the damage to his bloody shoulder, before launching back into the fray.

Goten lunged in between his father and the giant reptile that hissed menace at the older of the pair, challenging Gokou to continue his impossible quest for vengeance. “I am the ruler of the Kines, and I will see to it that you harm none foolish mortal.” The huge maw, orange acid flowing faster as the beast’s head dove for Gokou’s body flashed forward.

“My kind once allowed mortals to destroy our ranks because we so hate destroying those weaker than ourselves.” Gokou twisted to the side, launching himself heavenward trying to evade the massive snapping jaws that were bent on his death.

“I, however, don’t play such games any more!” the beastly, syllabant, hissing voice thundered at the tiny insignificant sized Saiyajin warrior, as it expertly by-passed his companion, in seeking retribution.

Two energies, both large, and impressive for mortals, flared into quick life a few short feet from Gokou, one slamming into Briloshen’s nose with a hearty booming crack of fury.

Briloshen jerked back in surprise, shaking his head at the mild concussion that was no more significant than having his nose tapped by one of the hatchlings who wished his attention. “What’s this?” Briloshen asked in startled consternation.

Briloshen looked down at Trunks and Gohan, mildly surprised by both small men, who stood in mid-air, shoulder to shoulder, the taller, dark haired member looking over at the male who had caused such irritation in the first place. “You ok, dad?”

“Gohan, get back that thing’s dangerous!”

“No Kidding, Gokou! Do you think we’re stupid or something?!” The golden aura that shimmered around the shorter member of the two new editions flared brightly as the super Saiyajin screamed in sarcastic fury at the annoying arrogant older Saiyajin.

“You have no idea if you think that creature is simply dangerous, Kakarotto!” another voice joined the group as a known presence flashed to a halt a few feet away from the bulking monolith that rumbled a draconic laugh at the irony of meeting the young Saiyajin Prince once more.

“Well met, little Prince. I see that you did as we suggested.” the huge dragon, twisted his massive head to eye the diminutive Super Saiyajin, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Lord Briloshen, You now this one?” Aurora’s voice rang clearly across the distance as she demanded to know what the Dragon meant by his address.

“Yes, Kines’ Friend. I know this one.” The huge glowing eyes shimmered as the beast looked down towards the powerful, rainbow hued ball that encased one of the tiny mortals he wished to keep safe.

Vegeta felt hope flare in his breast. The huge draconic creature recognized him which meant that he had a real chance of salvaging the situation before the massive beast chose to destroy their home world. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, little Prince.” the reptilian voice thrummed amicably as he looked down at Vegeta. “We have kept our word to you as to our end of the bargain highness.”

“Huh?” the Prince looked towards the dragon in confusion. “What of the bargain?” he demanded imperiously, frantically attempting to recall the past, and the bargain the Kines’ leader spoke of.

“Bargain?” Trunks chose to jump into the conversation that the Star Might Dragon had been having with his father, feeling reasonably certain that Pan would be safe, even if she was currently upset. “What kind of bargain did you make with this creature, father?”

“It’s none of your concern, Brat!” Vegeta bellowed at his grown son.

“Did you not visit there to see if we had kept our word to you.” Vegeta kept his memory lapse to himself as he pretended to find the Kines’ leader’s words offensive.

“Why would I need to doubt your word? I only check up on those who I know have a problem with doing what they say they will do.” He bluffed.

Turning back towards his long time rival with a snide imperious gesture, “Kakarotto what do you think you’re doing pissing off a Star Might Personage? Have you completely lost what few undamaged brain cells you supposedly own? This is an immortal God that you’re thinking to challenge you idiotic clown.” The Prince No Oji screamed at the tall glowering Super Saiyajin who was on the verge of attacking the mighty dragon again.

“Vegeta, that animal took Pan, and won’t give her back!” Gokou bellowed at Vegeta as the smaller man blocked his newest attempt at a charge, by grabbing onto his good shoulder and dragging him backwards, away from the irritated Kines’ Leader..

“Pan?! What do you mean he’s taken Pan?” Gohan and Trunks both screamed in horror simultaneously.

Author’s Note : I expect that some will take offence on my having put Gokou in the spot of getting his butt kicked. To be blunt.. I am sick of him being portrayed as practically being a God at times and undefeatable… So if it made you mad that Gokou got smacked down a bit… Just keep in mind that he is up against a God who would make the Kais look like cupi-dolls with rip cord action and sound kind of ideal. :)