*****

There were perks to having your homework finished, which usually considered free time as one of the best courses of action. For Gohan, this meant curling up on the couch with a good book and reading through it with the lights on overhead at ten in the evening with the dogs barking away in the distance in an almost peaceful way.

He smiled, placing a cold glass of water on the coffee-table, taking a seat on his couch, getting ready to spend the night with his favourite pastime. His mother had presented him with a series that he had not been able to get around to reading. Films for the books had already come out, but as a true nerd, he wanted to read the books before even thinking about watching the movies. Apparently, they were about this little boy that had his parents killed when he was small and had received a lightning scar. He became a wizard, according to his mother.

Whatever the case, he was told that he just had to read it. So, here he sat, pulling The Philosopher’s Stone toward him and cracking it open. He read the short synopsis before beginning and then looked over the names of the chapters, as if to prepare for their contents.
Gohan admitted, it did look interesting, at least at first glance.

He moved his back to rest against the arm of the couch, holding the book before him and turning to the first page.

*Ding Dong*.

“The boy who lived -” Gohan stopped, raising his head as his doorbell rang throughout the house and caused a confused college student to blink. Gohan moved to stand, placing his book down on the table and making his way out of the living room and to the door.

He peeked through the peep-hole to see his purple-haired family friend standing outside his door with a rather unpleasant expression on his face. Immediately, he began to wonder what could have brought the other to his doorstep with such a downcast emotion.

There was no way that Gohan could have known what he was doing by opening the door to his friend, but he did it all the same, slowly turning the large lock and then the smaller, pulling open the door until he saw all of Trunks Briefs standing before him.

Trunks’ expression changed from dark and broody to a happy grin. “Ah, good. I was afraid that you would not be home, Gohan.” He looked behind him at the darkness not illuminated by streetlamps. “I am really sorry for dropping by unexpectedly and so late… but I was hoping I could ask you to let me stay here for a few days.” His smile faltered, but he managed to salvage it.

He was not fooling anyone. Gohan could tell that it was forced.

Indeed, the fact that Trunks was standing before him with no obvious means of transportation had Gohan look outside with a curious gaze, frowning slightly. “No problem, but… how did you get here? I don’t see your car.”

Trunks rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… the thing is that dad kicked me out of the house before I had a chance to grab anything like the keys to my Mustang or any clothes.”

Now that Gohan could get a better look at him, Trunks did look extremely exhausted and quite warred. It must have been a rough conversation with Vegeta. “It’s not like I could let you just wander the streets, now can I?” Gohan smirked. “What kind of friend would I be?”

“A poor one?” Trunks managed a rather teasing jab.

Gohan chuckled, nodding. “Come on in.” He moved aside to let his friend enter through; closing the door once he had entered, locking it as it had been before.

Trunks stood in the entry way, looking around to see if anything had changed since he had last been in his friend’s home. He could find nothing and simply watched Gohan’s movements at the door.

The now host proceeded into the living room, taking an immediate left and heading into the kitchen for the refrigerator.

“Look… I’m really sorry for dumping this all on you…” Trunks followed, stopping just behind Gohan, resting his hip against the counter with a grateful smile – this one real – on his face.

Gohan shook his head, as if to say that it was fine and that he didn’t mind – which he didn’t – and turned his head to smile back at him, opening the fridge and peeking his head inside and biting his lip thoughtfully. “How about a beer?”

The idea of alcohol seemed to cause Trunks a bit of trouble, struggling with it, at least, from what Gohan could see. After a minute or two and Gohan eventually raising his gaze to stare at his friend, he voiced a completely different thought. “Are you sure you don’t have anything… harder? If you catch my drift.”

This brought out a light chuckle from his college host. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I do. All you have to do is ask.” At that, he reached in and grabbed one of his beers (wishing to stay relatively sober and perhaps a bit buzzed) and pulled out, closing the refrigerator door and standing on his toes to reach the cabinet up above and removed a bottle of Scotch. “Will this do?”

“Heck yes!” Nodding happily, Trunks walked forward, a bright grin on his features as he took the bottle in his hands and stared at it in an admiring way. He knew that Gohan wasn’t much of a drinker, but that was okay because he always had something in stock for Trunks to satisfy his thirst for it. He’d been in Gohan’s house many times, in fact, enough times that he walked straight to the cabinet that held the glasses and obtained one.

“Well, you enjoy that, ‘cause I’m going to stay sober, if you don’t mind.”

Trunks turned around and playfully stuck out his tongue, pouring himself a large glass of just plain alcohol.

That was, after all, how he preferred it. Most people liked to have the alcohol mixed into other drinks, but not Trunks. To him, the taste of alcohol was a saintly thing, only deluded by the addition of anything else. Whether it was soda, oranges, or anything else, really, it was just a huge waste.

Gohan rolled his eyes, walking into the living room and taking a seat on the couch while patiently waiting for Trunks to follow, which he soon did after scavenging around the kitchen, gently plopping down and putting his feet up on the coffee-table.

This brought Gohan to bite his lip and stare at where Trunks’ feet now lay, wondering why Trunks had been over to his house countless times and yet he still didn’t understand that he hated it when the other put his feet there. He managed to keep from telling him off and rolled his eyes, ignoring it as best as he could.

He took a giant gulp from his drink and then glanced around, seeing that the television wasn’t on and then noticing that there was a book set out on the end of said coffee-table. “So… what did I interrupt you doing?”

Gohan shrugged. “Not much of anything. Mum keeps raving about these books and how great they are, but I’d never been able to get around to reading them. So, she gave me the series and I was just getting started on it. Like I said. Not much.” He pressed his back against the back of the couch, raising up an arm and draping it over the top in a comfortable fashion.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal. He’d much rather be hanging out with his friend anyway.

Trunks raised an eyebrow and scoffed at it. “That seems like such a long waste of time. I don’t understand why you just don’t watch the films like a normal person. There’s no point in reading the books.”

This small statement had Gohan frown, shaking his head rather vigorously. “I would have to completely disagree. If you think about the information that are in books and how much the films cut up and shove it all into less than 2 hours, you realize that there’s a lot missing. There are very few that actually depict the book well.”

Trunks rolled his eyes. “Right. Like what?”

“I think that the 10th Kingdom did a very good job keeping to the storyline. It is in three disks, but hell, that’s well worth the time. I felt like I didn’t even have to read the book, but I had anyway.”

“Of course.” Trunks couldn’t help but tease.

Gohan rolled his eyes, picking up his beer and taking a sip of it with a soft exhale after it went down. “Well… whatever. How about we watch a movie or something to keep ourselves entertained? It’s better than just sitting here making small talk, yeah?”

His guest shrugged, gulping down the rest of his glass and sitting up to refill it. “A movie sounds good, but do you have something in mind? Or are you just throwing it out there?” Trunks smirked, swirling around his drink before taking another large gulp.

“You’re into action, aren’t you? I don’t have a bad selection, but most of mine are about-“

“Chick-flicks?” Trunks interrupted, poking fun at his friend.

Gohan blushed, once again rolling his eyes as he pulled out his movie drawer and started to sift through what he had seen recently and what he might be interested in watching. He wished that Trunks would offer to come and pick a film because often Trunks would just tell him to pick another movie instead of offering any help toward the actually choice. “I’m not sure what you’d be into, but I do have…” He trailed off, finding something that might catch his guest’s attention.

Trunks raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “Yeah?”

“How about…” Gohan bit on the inside of his mouth and pulled out ‘The Nightmare before Christmas’. “This movie?”

He held it up for Trunks to see.

However, despite Gohan’s polite and kind gesture, Trunks did not even look at the cover or the title before agreeing to it. Since Trunks was an argumentative person, Gohan frowned, rubbing the back of his neck as he glared at his friend. It made Gohan wish that he’d picked any movie that he’d first seen instead of weighing the stupid pros and cons of picking a film for entertainment. If he could have chosen anything and the other would have been fine with it, what was the point?

“Sure. I’m up for anything.” All he wanted to do was drink the alcohol he was given and get into such a drunken stupor that he wouldn’t remember the fight he had had with Vegeta and what it was about. Spending time with his friend was definitely a much better alternative to the shouting match that he and his father broke into. It was a little depressing to think that he’d fought with his father about something so silly and stupid as… well, it was not important. The point of being where he was was to forget the stupid argument.

Gohan kneed the drawer closed and strode over to the DVD player, bending over to press the eject button and waiting until he could insert the disk into the slot when it popped out. He stayed focused on it until the slot retreated back into the system.

Trunks’ like-wise purple eyes fell to half-mast and then blinked softly as he eyed the nice rump before him. He had a clear view of it and as he noticed that he was actually staring at his host’s ass, he raised an eyebrow, as if to reproach his action. Maybe he was already drunk, and after two glasses of Scotch, who knew anymore?

“Alright, it’s in. Hopefully you’ll like it.” Gohan straightened up, turning around and heading back over to the couch where he took an Indian stance instead, folding his legs under his buttock and then folding his arms before him while pressing his back into the couch’s cushion.

His purple haired guest did what he could to keep his eyes from drifting away from the television screen and toward Gohan, but the more he drank, the more he found it difficult to do anything that his brain commanded anymore.

Just as the monsters in Halloween Town began to sing about “Making Christmas”, Trunks began to slide down and lose all of his bodily functions. He hiccuped, bringing Gohan’s attention to his inebriated guest. If Trunks was even watching the move anymore, Gohan was not able to tell.

He just sat there – if you could count slumped to the point that his back was where his buttock was a second before and his head where his back was as sitting -, eyes often flashing up and then back down as if they were attempting to keep the body they were attached to awake.

Trunks pulled his drink up to his lips and missed his lips, the alcohol spilling over his neck and shirt.

Gohan rolled his eyes, reaching over and wresting the glass from his inebriated friend. “You’re obviously too drunk, time to get you into bed.” Gohan shook his head with a loving smile, as if he could not believe that Trunks had done that to himself. He stood, moving to turn off the television and did the same with the DVD player as well.

Trunks just mumbled in jest, “You… but… me… we… that… skeleton…,” but each sentence was as incomprehensible as the last. Even if Gohan had all night long to decipher them, he might have been able to, but Trunks was libel to choke on the alcohol he was still trying to throw down his gullet.

“Uh huh, okay, Trunks. Let’s get you up and into a nice warm bed.” He emphasized warm in hopes that Trunks would find that he was cold and would feel more inclined to get someplace warmer.

Gohan gripped Trunks’ underarm, pulling him up to stand, taking the other arm and placing it over his neck while helping him to hovel toward the stairs.

As far as he could tell, his plan worked. Perhaps a little too well.

The idea of getting warm caused Trunks to more hug his host, almost groping him with his random movements. Because of this, it was extremely difficult. It seemed that Trunks wasn’t even able to control his legs and it might’ve just been easier for Gohan to carry him bridal-style up the stairs and into the bedroom, but Trunks had always disliked being treated in such a womanly way.

The mere thought was cute and in many ways a form of hilarity.

Gohan reached the bedroom door, opening it with one hand in an awkward fashion, then using his arm to push it ajar and practically having to pull Trunks to the bed. It was hard to even get him to sit on it, but he managed it, before attempting to get some night clothes for the two of them.

Trunks seemed to cry out and startled Gohan as he turned around and saw Trunks looking quite displeased.

“What?”Nothing seemed to be wrong…

“Don’t… don’t go…”

His warmth must have made Trunks completely aware that he was in the room with someone. Gohan couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for just trying to get a pair of clothes. He returned to the bed and climbed onto the bed. “Fine… I’m here.”

Those bright purple orbs gazed at him before he fell onto his back with a quiet girlish giggle, putting on a stupid smile.

“Y’know… I have seen you drunk so many times before and you always act extremely odd. Why do you keep doing it? Aren’t you… embarrassed?” Gohan figured there was no harm in asking the question, but as he could have guessed, the answer was odd.

“I’m on Gohan’s bed…” Trunks slurred. “Never thought I’d be ‘ere…”

This statement had Gohan stop in his attempt to place Trunks under the covers.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Trunks said nothing at first, lolling his head to the right and then to the left again, keeping that stupid smirk on his face. “Don’t tell

Gohan… but…” He giggled again, pulling his legs up into his chest and hugged them against him.

Gohan waited, blinking curiously. “Don’t tell him… what?”

“Don’t tell ‘im that I love ‘im.” He said this and then giggled again.

It was such an odd thing to say. Gohan didn’t know what to say. What could he say? If he said anything, the boy wouldn’t remember a lick of it in the morning. And if one followed that logic, why not just tell him the truth?

“That’s funny.” He climbed into the bed pulling the balled up Trunks to the top of the bed and lifted the covers up to soon cover him with them, taking his comforter and draping that over the drunken boy.

Trunks then slowly unclenched his body and spread out a little more, grabbing the pillow and hugging it as close as he could to his body.

“I never told you, Trunks, because you were always being hit on by women. Whenever we would walk through the halls the girls would just swoon the moment you looked at them.” Gohan turned off the lamp –the one that he had accidentally left on that morning – climbing under the covers as well. “I’d get so jealous that I only wanted you to look… look at me. So… yeah. I guess you could say that I love you too.”

The drunk shook his head, letting go of the pillow and instead hugging Gohan’s torso and pressing his cheek against the other’s chest. “Dad found out… that I like him… he didn’t like that. Didn’t like that…. though…”

With that, everything seemed to click.

Trunks came here to me because he liked me. Vegeta and he must have been fighting about this… I wonder if he found out from dad… Gohan’s eyes softened as he ran his fingers through Trunks’ long purple hair. He won’t remember telling me this… but fuck if I care.

“I love you, Trunks.” Gohan made sure that he looked serious as Trunks raised his head and looked into his dark brown hues. “Forget what Vegeta thinks, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy. If you’re happy here… with me… you can live here until the end of time.”

Trunks pressed his face into Gohan’s chest, mumbling something.

Gohan caught the end of it and just smiled.

There were some tears falling from his eyes. “I love Gohan… Don’t… don’t tell me he doesn’t. Don’t…”

Gohan parted some of the purple hair and kissed his forehead. “It’s alright, Trunks. He does. And he always will.”

Trunks nodded his head and it seemed to take him very little time to pass out in Gohan’s arms, falling into a deep slumber.

It wasn’t until an hour or two later that Gohan finally began to follow. He just laid there with his arm cradling Trunks’ sleeping head, watching the other slumber peacefully.

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

Beep. Beep.

His nose was filled with the overly clean and bleach-like smell that was often associated with hospitals.

Beep. Beep.

His head felt heavy, it felt like there was a needle stuck in his arm and something was clamping on his index finger.

Beep. Beep.

Trunks pushed himself up with his right – and free – hand and opened his eyes to glare at the noisy machine. The walls were an off-white and he saw his heart rate being monitored on a machine that was hooked to the clamp on his finger. He was in a hospital alright.

He glanced around to get his bearings. On a table near him there was food and the bottle of pills his mother prescribed him. To his left was another bed – already filled by…

Wait was that – “Chibi!” Trunks yelled out and flung off his covers and ran over to the child, ignoring that he had wires connected to him. He glanced over all of the visible wounds – his head was bandaged, his left arm was in a cast, there were bruises on his face, neck and shoulders, and probably much more under the covers.

How could he have let Chibi go! How could he have just allowed the androids to beat and bruise this child! He was supposed to be the defender!

Beep. Beep. Beep! Beep!

What had he done! This was Gohan’s child! He was supposed to be the boy’s protector! Not the other way around! Trunks fell to his knees and slammed his fists down on the guardrails of Chibi’s bed, denting them in the process. How could he have been so stupid! So careless! So useless!

Beep beep! Beep beep!

People rushed in, and among them was his mother. “Trunks!” She yelled and held him. “Settle down!”

He looked at her with guilty eyes. How could he? How could he just simply calm down after realizing his own incompetence. He was no better than Goku right now – rendered useless by some stupid ailment!

Beep beep! Beep beep!

“It wasn’t your fault baby.” His mother soothingly told him. “Goha– Chibi just wanted to help you, and he’s fine. He just needs rest and food. He’ll be fine in no time.”

Trunks blinked back the tears he never knew were there. Chibi would be fine… nothing serious…

Beep! Beep. Beep.

The sound quietly faded into the background as his pulse stabilized. “Now come along and back to your bed. You, or Chibi, won’t be going anywhere until you two are better.”

Trunks silently let his mother guide him back to the bed and he ate the food he was given. “Mother, what happened?”

“Well you charged out, screaming something about Chibi. A few hours later, he’s at my door, carrying you – unconscious – before he passed out.” Bulma sighed and looked over at Chibi. “I think he was running on pure adrenaline.”

“I see…” He said before looking over at the unconscious boy. He remembered flying towards the village, or town, that the androids had or were attacking, the place that Chibi had collapsed. He remembered thinking about the boy’s childhood and… “Ouch…” Trunks brought a hand to his head and winced.

“Trunks? Are you alright?”

“Yeah Mother, I’m fine.” Trunks said and looked back at Chibi. What did Chibi have to do about his forgotten memories? What was that scene with the child that looked just like Chibi with long hair, that looked like Gohan at the boy’s age…

A yellow ship. His mother smiling at him and waving goodbye. Arriving. Frieza.

Trunks eyes widened, and his head was throbbing – but that didn’t matter. Why was Frieza in his memories? Why did he know who Frieza and his father were? Why could he remember their faces when he clearly never met them before – they died before he was born, his mother never took pictures, Gohan never transferred the images into his head. What was going on here, and what did it have to do with Chibi?

“Mother?”

“Yes Trunks?” Bulma responded with a smile.

“How old was Gohan when Frieza attacked?”

“He was seven, why?” His mother said a bit uneasily.

Something wasn’t right here. His mind was drawing blanks and even though it shouldn’t be… even though he shouldn’t be second guessing things, something had to be up and it had to do with his memories. “What month did Frieza attack?”

“Why are you curious about Frieza Trunks?” Bulma said after hesitating. “He’s dead now…”

Why was his mother trying to dodge around his question? She only did that when she was worried that he would have another seizure…

What did Frieza have to do with his seizure – his…forgotten…memories…

His… trip… No, it couldn’t be! It was impossible! Frieza was dead before he was even a glimmer in his parents’ eyes! Especially since Chibi was supposedly involved with those memories. There couldn’t be any connection! Things just weren’t making any sense and his head was killing him. “Wake me when Chibi wakes up.” Trunks said and pulled up the covers. Blissful oblivion was preferred over a splitting headache.

Gohan could hear murmuring to his right and his eyes twitched. What was going on? Where was he? What happened? He moved his neck, but his whole body felt heavy. He just wanted to sleep… Why did he want to sleep? What happened? How long has he been sleeping? He left out a quiet groan as he tried to lift his eyelids – but even they felt heavy.

“Gohan? Err… Chibi?”

Was that Bulma’s voice? Why was she calling him kid? She was right the first time. “Uhnn?” Gohan grunted out and turned his head as his eyes slowly opened. Bulma’s hair was long? “Since when did you get so old Bulma?” He slurred, not really realizing that he spoke aloud.

“Gohan!” Bulma scolded him. “Uhh… I mean… Chibi!”

“What? You’re noisy and my head hurts. Where am I?” He complained and blinked a few times.

“Um… you’re in West City Hospital G-Chibi. I brought you here after you arrived at my doorstep.”

“Hospital?” Gohan wondered. Why was he in a hospital, sure his head hurt, and his stomach felt like he just ate a bomb or something, but why was he in a hospital? Were there not any more senzu beans left? Why did his stomach hurt anyway? Why was the feeling familiar? Sure, it hurt more than when Seventeen… Oh… right. “Oh.” Gohan said with a bit more composure and tried to sit up. However a flare of pain stopped him in his tracks and he brought his right arm (his left arm felt too heavy right now, and it was connected to something) down to hold his stomach as he curled in. “Ahhh!” He moaned out in pain.

“Gohan! Are you alright?”

“Chibi!”

Gohan glanced up to see both Bulma and Trunks at the side of his bed… why were his bedrails all dented… starting down worriedly at him. With a grin he laughed lightly, trying not to aggravate his stomach. “Heh, heh…. Ya know Bulma, you’ve really got to stop calling me that.” However he glanced at Trunks again before he smiled. “How are you feeling Trunks?” Trunks didn’t look hurt… why did he collapse then? Why did his ki drop?

“I’m fine Chibi, I just overexerted myself, and I thought of things that I shouldn’t have. But I think that question should be directed at you, don’t you think?”

Gohan offered a weak smile. “Well, I feel like I ate a bomb that exploded in my stomach and I’m in a spaceship with five times Earth’s normal gravity, but otherwise I’m fine.”

Gohan wasn’t too sure how to respond to Trunks’ expression. Was it disbelief? Was it worry? When he glanced at Bulma, there was a sort of dread. Uhh… he wasn’t supposed to know about that, was he? Oops…

“Chibi… where did you learn about gravity and spaceships?” Trunks asked him cautiously.

“Uh…. Well my mom kinda taught me about them?” Whoops… It seemed like that wasn’t the best option he could have chosen, because now the look on Trunks’ face was angry. Then again, I suppose it’s alright for him to be angry… since he thinks my mom stole me away from him. Kami that sounded weird! “And, and uh… when I saw Chi-Chi a couple weeks ago…. Well I was told some stories of the past…” This was not going good at all! Soon Gohan would run out of half-truths to tell Trunks! He glanced up at Bulma, silently asking for help. Did she know that Trunks and him… the future him… were in a relationship?

“I… see…” The gears seemed to be turning in Trunks’ head, but thankfully Bulma intervened.

“Trunks, why don’t we leave Chibi alone to rest? He won’t heal as fast as his father since he has more human blood in him.” She said as she pushed Trunks over to the bed on his right.

‘Thank you.’ Gohan mouthed to Bulma. Rest did seem like a good option, and one that wouldn’t incriminate him any further.

Trunks continued to stare at Chibi, even after he fell asleep. Something really wasn’t right with Chibi… what seven year old knew about gravity these days? And spaceships? Especially spaceships with the ability to increase gravity?

And he thought about what else was suspicious about Chibi: He could fly, he had access to Kinto’un, he could meditate, do battle projections, ki blasts, he was an adept fighter, he seemed to have an excellent knowledge – something that only schooling could do (whether at home or public, although the likelihood of the latter was virtually impossible) and the list seemed endless! In fact, Bulma usually insisted upon others calling her by her last name, and it seemed that Chibi had the manners that would agree to, or desire to call strangers by polite names. Yet, Chibi called his mother by her name while he was still groggy, and he even called her old – nothing somebody would call a stranger! There was also the case of his own name – how did Chibi know who he was? Did Chi-Chi tell Chibi that too? Why did Chibi know to look under the rock at the training grounds? How did Chibi know where he was? And… how did Chibi know where the androids were, how did he know to look for Trunks? Did the kid know how to sense ki as well?

Everything about Chibi spoke of formal training, it spoke of a life no child could get in these times anymore.

These times… why did those words draw him in?

“Fuck!” Trunks cursed as another rage surged through his head. His arms held his head tightly and he squeezed his eyes shut. Images were flashing through his mind, they were settling in, solving a puzzle that he’d been trying to figure out with only a few pieces. And everything was starting to make sense with the exception of one single piece but perhaps that was forcefully placed in and didn’t truly belong there in the first place…

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

Gohan didn’t know why Trunks said nothing in context to the avoidance he was giving the prince all week. Perhaps the other thought he had scared Gohan off, but that was not the case. No, Gohan didn’t go near Trunks because it was he who felt guilty, he who felt ashamed – and most likely Trunks would not know his reason (nor the reason he apologized), since Trunks didn’t know who Gohan was.

The child now knew why lying was bad – it hurt people – and while he didn’t lie per se, what he was doing wasn’t much better. He was letting Trunks believe that the future Gohan had cheated on him, (Gohan knew the basics of reproduction) he was letting Trunks be pained by that knowledge, and yet if he told the truth it would hurt Trunks – physically.

Bulma had hypothesized that the blood clot was suppressing Trunks’ memory, and once she talked with her son, he had just lent more support to the cause.

But lying was not the real, main reason he couldn’t face Trunks. No, it was because of what he was going to do. He was going to leave his future love alone in this world, and that just wasn’t right. How could he face the man with that knowledge? How could he face the man whom he would hurt?

Was this how Piccolo felt when he sacrificed his body for Gohan’s? No, it couldn’t be… Piccolo knew that Gohan would revive him, Piccolo knew that he was going to live again.

Why did he do that? It was a question that frequented the child’s mind. Was it because Trunks’ life was in danger? Was it because he was protecting his pupil? Did he just run out of luck? Was he too stupid to realize? Or was it for a darker reason?

Gohan shook his head. It couldn’t be that. Although, he didn’t know how this world would change him over the process of ten plus years. Already, he was changing. Fear – something that seemed to be just a trickle before – had exploded into his life, it broke the dam and he flowed with it, he went where it took him. The rapids were raging, and every time he thought of overcoming the hasty, dangerous waters, he was driven back by another wave of fright. Here he didn’t just fear for his life. No, he already knew that he would die, and that was more terrifying than a ki blast aimed for his heart with a possibility to dodge the deadly blast. No, it was because he knew that he would never dodge that blast in the end, that his death was inevitable, that his time really was limited, that he had the knowledge of where the clock stopped.

And that fear was not the only change – no he had become what he never thought he would become: he became a liar, he became a ghost of the past, he became a toy for the enemy.

So… it wasn’t all that inconceivable that he could walk a darker path…

Ki’s beginning to vanish and weaken off in the distance distracted Gohan from his thoughts and he looked up, towards the source. The androids! He thought and shot up.

Next, Trunks’ ki became to rise, and Gohan rushed over to where the still-sick demi was. “You’re not going Trunks.” He said firmly.

“Like hell!” The Saiyajin prince objected.

“Trunks, you’re in no shape to fight them, you still haven’t recovered from the last battle!” Bulma added.

“What about those people Mother? Am I just going to let them die over a stupid blood clot? I think not!”

And if you die, there will be no fighter that is a natural part of this world Trunks. Gohan thought and turned around. “I’ll go. They won’t kill me.”

“Chibi!” Trunks called after him.

“No.” Gohan turned, determination in his eyes as he stood at the door. “You stay here.” It’s the least that I can do. The child took off in flight and towards the disappearance of ki.

“Oh?” Gohan said with a glare. Control it Gohan! Don’t let the rage control you! He forced down the building anger, pushed it down and tried to hone it. Then, he took the key and unlocked his powers, letting it envelope him – but not dominate him. “Disappointed are you?”

“I don’t want to fight blind rage. Directed rage, yes. Now that’s amusing.”

Gohan appeared behind the android and threw a punch. He could do this! Focus! Focus! “I’m not as wild as before.”

He saw Seventeen smirk as he caught the fist. “We’ll see how long that lasts.” He challenged and returned the punch, but Gohan caught it – and almost winced.

The man – cyborg – was still playing with him, but he owed this to Trunks. He hurt the other, he left the other, and now, he would play hero for the man whom he was destined to love.

Feet and arms were aimed, dodged, caught, and connected. They had only damaged one party though – Gohan could not land a single blow on the artificial human. And while two blue-coloured eyes often met, confidence and amusement were only in one pair, while the green-tinted ones began to droop in exhaustion and pain.

Seventeen was just playing, he didn’t put any effort, and here Gohan was, slowing and weakening. How could he be so strong? Gohan was a Super Saiyajin… and yet!

“Sorry to interrupt Seventeen, but I think you’ve played with your dolly long enough. This town is getting boring.”

And yet… he couldn’t even hinder the other sibling while she went on her own personal rampage! He was pathetic! He was weak! He was useless! Then, he heard what she referred to him by and it was the final spark that lit his already-short fuse. “D-Dolly?” His eyes narrowed and he charged at Eighteen.

But she was already ahead of him as she dodged his raging fists.

“Blind rage.” She simply stated before letting her fist connect with Gohan’s stomach – why was it always there – and knocking him out with a new surge of pain.

Sure Chibi said that the androids wouldn’t kill him, but Eighteen was the more logical and persuasive one of the pair. If she got it in her head that Chibi – Gohan’s child – had to die, sooner or later the boy wouldn’t have a chance.

“Trunks?” His mother asked at his lack of movement and exclamation. “Did something happen to G-Chibi?”

Trunks was accustomed to his mother’s slipups. Apparently even Chibi confused his mother with his appearance. The teen nodded though. “Yeah, his ki just plummeted.” He couldn’t stay here! He needed to go and help Chibi! “I’ve got to go! Chibi needs me!”

“Oh no you–” Bulma protested as her son bolted for the door and she shook her head. “You never listen when it comes to those androids…”

Trunks sped toward the place that the androids were. Even while Chibi was busy with one, there still were ki’s vanishing. Chibi didn’t know, he was too weak to battle both and too boring to watch.

The boy just didn’t know what the androids were capable of, what their actions were focused on, what their supposed emotions were. They were cruel, sadistic, bored. Their definition of fun was torture, and a game was somebody who had the strength of a Super Saiyajin. Chibi was just a child, how could he possibly know? How could he…

No, there was no such thing as a child anymore was there? Gohan had lost his childhood just before he turned ten and Trunks couldn’t remember when he was last fearless, carefree, and amused by the simple things. What was Chibi’s experience? Did he still remember when he ran around without a care in the world, when he giggled at a butterfly on his nose, when an android was just a big scary monster that never really mattered to him but it scared those who took care of him?

Trunk’s body halted in mid-flight as another rage surged through his head. What did Chibi’s life have to do with his forgotten memories? The prince glanced down at the desolated rocky plains and the image of the strangers and the Gohan-Chibi-persona flashed again. The pressure and pain in his head only increased as he closed his eyes. It had just made everything worse though since the picture became real. He felt like he was a person watching them, that he was sitting and waving at them and they were waving back. He was smiling at a younger version of his mother before he glanced at the Gohan-Chibi-person – who was approaching him slowly – with a thought: I will save you.

STOP! Trunks demanded, and that’s exactly what his body did.

It was the last thing that had really disheartened Gohan. Twenty years ago, people would not be cowering behind corners but running around frantically for children, siblings, parents, friends… but now life was so valuable one couldn’t risk it for another. This world was just so sad…

How could Trunks bear seeing this each time he was defeated by the androids, how could he continue to do this?

Wait… where was Trunks’ ki? Back at Capsule Corporation Bulma was alone, and he couldn’t find the other’s ki anywhere! Sure, Trunks normally hid it and he had it toned down, but it was never like this! Gohan could always feel the slightest hint! There were only two possible things: Trunks was dead, or he was close to it.

No! No! Not him too! Not again! This couldn’t be! This world needed a warrior! Trunks was the sole carrier of the Saiyajin genes, he was the only who could hope to rival the androids! Gohan wasn’t from here, he couldn’t… he didn’t want to…

Did this mean he had to stay here?

Did this mean that he could never go home?

Did this mean he could never see his mom?

His Dad?

Piccolo?

Gohan’s body trembled with emotion. No! No! Calm down! Calm down! Look for Trunks! Find him! He told himself as he held his head and muted out the sounds of terror that those around him were making. He had to find Trunks! Find Trunks and figure out what to do then.

Gohan stood up and raised his ki. He flew the route that was the shortest, and the most direct to Capsule Corporation and he watched the ground.

Trunks had to have left the building – from what he could tell about the man’s attitude – towards the androids. Especially after he would have felt Gohan’s ki drop… If he had flown towards the city, Gohan had to ensure that he kept an eye on his surroundings. Especially if the other had run into the androids…

A thought occurred to Gohan: what if Trunks had gone else where and he was wasting his time here? What if the time he used dawdling along the route here could have been used in saving Trunks’ life elsewhere? What if he lingered here while Trunks died…

Gohan bit his bottom lip. He still… he still had to go to Bulma and ask her where Trunks went, and if, if he somehow missed Trunks here, Gohan didn’t think he could live with that guilt-free. He already killed Trunks’ heart, he couldn’t kill the man’s body too…

No! He had to check! He had to make sure! He had to hope! He had to hope that if Trunks ran into the androids, they left him hanging to life, that they created enough observable damage. It was perhaps depressing that he wanted that fate for Trunks, yet it would be easier. Even if it was so, Trunks would have significant wounds to for his ki to drop this low. But, in case that wasn’t, Gohan kept his eyes and senses peels for any sign of Trunks and his ki.

The only thing that mattered to Gohan now was that Trunks was alright. Nothing else fazed him. Gohan could barely feel the wind against his face as he flew, nonetheless anything else. Trunks was the only thing in his world. Trunks had to be found, Trunks had to be alive.

If he wasn’t, well Gohan didn’t know – to both scenarios.

He looked for purple, for black, for blue, for yellow. Where was the man who defeated Frieza? Where was the last Saiyajin? Where was their prince – King? Where was Trunks?

“Trunks!” Gohan yelled, praying the man was still conscious out there and could respond in some way. “Trunks!”

Why wasn’t he responding! Didn’t he know that he was Earth’s only hope! Sure he thought Gohan was his own son but wouldn’t that mean he’d need to train Gohan? Stupid Trunks! Just stay at home! Just get better! Just live! “Trunks!”

What was that? Gohan turned his head as he felt a very faint and very low ki off to his left. “Trunks!” Gohan called, but this time out of hope instead of desolation, and flew towards it.

He found the man, lying almost peacefully by a river. Gohan panicked and flew down. He placed his ear against the other’s chest and heard the heart beating, the lungs inhaling.

But both were shallow. He glanced around a gauged the distance towards the Capsule Corporation. Kinto’un would be too slow. He had to fly.

The boy closed his eyes and concentrated on his box before opening it and letting out the power, dying his locks, tinting his eyes.

He picked up Trunks and gently slung the older man over his shoulder. “Hang on Trunks.” He said as he floated up into the air. “I’ll get you home.”

He flew full speed to Capsule Corporation and kept his senses honed in on the other’s ki.

When he got to the door, he let out a sigh and knocked. Gently he moved Trunks into his arms. Bulma, she would take care of – Gohan’s eyes widened as his body finally caught up to him. The pain hit him in another wave, the exhaustion took over, and he was lucky that the door opened because he couldn’t control his body as it collapsed in rebellion against his recent actions.

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

Gohan yelled as Trunks’ body started convulsing and ran towards the man. What was wrong? What was wrong! “Kinto’un!” Gohan screamed out. What was he supposed to do! Why was Trunks twitching! He shouldn’t be twitching right? Gohan jumped on top of Trunks and moved his hands and legs to hold down the flailing limbs, but the man was too strong. In his panic, he charged up and he transformed into a Super Saiyajin and it worked! He held down Trunks firmly, that was until Trunks’ body had the same idea and his hair turned golden and he threw Gohan off. Then, the prince’s ki began to rapidly flash on and off and his hair had yellow and purple pulsing through it in horizontal streaks.

And Gohan watched with wide, horrified eyes. What was he supposed to do? Was Trunks going to be alright? The single minute that it took for Trunks’ body to calm down seemed to take forever and when the moments of stillness started Gohan finally approached Trunks again. “Trunks? Trunks?” He asked quietly.

And the prince did respond, but nothing coherently. The words were slurred and half formed. Gohan bit his lips. I need to take him to Bulma… she would know what happened to him. “Hold on Trunks, stay awake, I’ll be right back!” He said and ran around, tidying up their camp before he ran back over to Trunks. “Trunks, you still with me?”

“Who? What?”

Gohan sighed in relief. At least he’s forming words again. He moved and picked up Trunks – whose hair had reverted back to its natural lavender colour. “I’m taking you home.” He explained and floated up onto the orange cloud that had come down from the skies. “To Capsule Corp Kinto’un.” Gohan said and held Trunks against him just like when he carried Trunks on the cloud before. Even though he had the strength to fly, he was too small to carry Trunks the entire way – in a way that wouldn’t possibly damage the other anyway.

“Gohan? Why’re yousmall?” Trunks said, but his words were slurring together. Still, it was much better than before. “Why’reyou Super Saiyaji-?”

“You call me Chibi, Trunks.” Gohan reminded him.

“WhydoI call yaChibi? You’re older denme.” The lavender-haired man giggled. “You’re my sensei, why call yaChibi?”

There most definitely was something wrong with Trunks. He was giddy – an emotion that Gohan had never seen in the man before. Then within that pair of blue a look, that look, reappeared and it froze the younger demi. It didn’t seem to matter to Trunks though, as he leaned up, his face approached, and his lips’ target was becoming obvious. Gohan snapped out of his reaction quick enough to avoid the touching of their lips.

Instead, Trunks kissed his cheek, and it seemed that he wouldn’t give up. He leaned up again, tilted his head, but Gohan avoided it again. Then, Trunks’ lower lip stuck out as he pouted. “Oh com’on Gohan! Why wuncha let me kissya?”

Let him kiss me? What…? W-Why? The idea confused Gohan. The man that was half on his lap and half on the cloud was intent on an answer though, and Gohan did not have an answer that he could give. Perhaps he could state a fact and make it seem like an answer? He didn’t want to but… “You’re sick.” He said. “Or I think so. I’m taking you home so Bulma can make sure.”

“Aww…” Trunks whined. “Fine!”

And Gohan’s arms had to secure their grasp on the older demi as Kinto’un suddenly decided it wouldn’t support the son of Vegeta anymore. “Kinto’un!” Gohan whined. This was going to be a long trip.

“Bulma.” Gohan said as he supported Trunks at the door. He knocked again. “Bulma…”

When the woman – complaining at the impatience of kids these days – opened the door Gohan almost had to support another person but she caught herself on the doorframe.

“G-Gohan?” Her voice shook in fear, disbelief, and shock.

“I’ll um… explain later, but something is wrong with Trunks. I think the androids did something bad to him this time.”

Why did the words this time seem so depressing to Gohan?

“Okay, just come on in you two, we’ll run some tests on him.” Bulma said and lit a cigarette.

“But I don’t wanna have tests run Mother!” Trunks whined.

She almost lost her smoke as she gaped with wide eyes at her son and then at a child Gohan.

“He only started acting like this after he started twitching.” Gohan supplied the answer to the question that she was more than likely wondering.

“He had a seizure! Kami!” She exclaimed before pulling Trunks along behind her.

A seizure? I’ve heard of those… was that what that was? Gohan wondered as he followed Bulma into her lab.

When all the tests were run and done, Bulma sighed with a puff of smoke. “He still has signs of a concussion – however that isn’t what directly caused the seizure. Trunks has a blood clot in an artery in the brain. The damage to his head probably caused both the concussion and the blood clot. All I can do is give him some medication to help wear it down. I don’t see anything too serious with it unless it doesn’t wear down but hopefully it will – it shouldn’t take too long. We just need to let his Saiyajin blood kick in and he’ll be fine.” Then, she turned over to Gohan. “Now, could you perhaps explain who you are? You’re a dead-knock for Gohan when he was a kid, and you’ve even got the Saiyajin blood.” She said and touched a golden lock.

“Oops… I guess I forgot about that.” Gohan said before he returned to his powered down. Then he looked over to the unconscious Trunks before back up at Bulma. “I suppose I can tell you. I look like a kid Gohan because I am a kid Gohan.”

“What? That’s impossible! The dragon balls are just rocks unless – did the Namekseijins revive you? No, that can’t be. Did you confuse your words, that would mean that Gohan…”

Gohan slapped his hand to his face. “I know what I said Bulma. I’m a seven year old Gohan. I… I think I got caught in the time portal Trunks made when he came back here.”

Bulma ran a hand through her hair. “That klutz…”

“Is there… is there any way I can go back?” Gohan asked quietly.

“I’m sorry to say, but not at this moment. However, in about five months you will be able to. The time machine requires a lot of energy to charge.”

Gohan’s eyes widened. Five months? Five months! He had to wait another one hundred and fifty days? In this time? In this world? No… He didn’t want to be here any longer! He wanted to go home! He wanted to go back to the time where it was safe, to where his mother yelled at him for getting twelve-times-twelve wrong, to where she forced him to do calligraphy instead of train, to where Piccolo was alive, to where his dad was! Gohan hugged himself as he slid down the wall. Would he live that long?

If he hadn’t met the androids, Gohan may have lasted that long, but now they knew who he was (or so they thought) and he knew who they were. How could he last that long, knowing that they were looking forward to their next meeting, that they wanted to beat him to an inch of his life only to toss him away, just so they could do it all over again?

How did the people of Earth live this way? How did Trunks? Perhaps what had scared him the most though was that in five months and three years, he’d have to meet them again, meet them for the first time, and watch them kill everybody he loved. And then start everything all over again…

Kami, his head was killing him. At least he was on a bed. Wait, a bed? Trunks shot up and glanced around. He was in his room but why? The last thing he could remember was being in the training grounds with Chibi. No… that wasn’t it. Trunks flushed slightly as he remembered that he treated Chibi like Gohan again, that he tried to kiss the child, that he acted like a child. Why did he act like that? He had to apologize.

As the prince got out of bed, he noticed a glass of water, a bottle of pills and a note with instructions and an explanation.

I have a blood clot in my brain? I had a seizure? Kami… no wonder why my head won’t stop hurting. Trunks sighed but took the mediation and downed the water. He then sensed for Chibi, and noticed that he was in the kitchen while his mother was in the workshop. The prince headed towards the kitchen – he was hungry anyway.

“Chibi… I’m uh… sorry…” He said awkwardly at the doorway, not really looking at Gohan’s son. He heard nothing, no shuffling, no grunts. Was the boy asleep? Trunks glanced over to the mini-Gohan to see him staring off into space. Yet, his facial expression seemed torn, lost, sad, and fearful. Trunks understood. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone. I can understand–”

“No.” Chibi said firmly but continued off into a murmur. “It’s not that. You don’t have to go.”

If it wasn’t him, then what exactly had Chibi so down? What made his voice sound so monotonously sad? The lavender-haired man sat down next to the boy who looked at him with those big black Son eyes. They were filled with a lost hope – fear – and Trunks just wanted to hold Chibi close and tell him that everything would be fine.

“The…” The boy hesitated. “The way you phrased things Trunks, were you and Gohan… together?”

The man stared at Chibi. How could he tell the boy that his father was in a relationship with another man, that he had loved another person who was not his mother? “W-Wha? Oh, no, there’s–”

“The truth Trunks.” Why did Chibi sound so much like his father when he found Trunks lying? Why did he seem to have the same grip Gohan had on him?

The prince looked down. “Yes, Chibi, yes we were together. I loved him, I still love him.”

“What about Gohan?”

Here Trunks flinched. “I-I don’t know anymore…” Yet at the look Chibi had on his face, that would not be enough – he wanted facts, not opinions. Well, kid deserved to know… “He told me he loved me.”

The boy looked down at his hands again in what seemed contemplation, although instead of on his lap, they were chest level and palm up. “I’m sorry Trunks.” He said solemnly and walked away.

It all made sense now – why Trunks seemed to hate him, why Trunks looked him at the way he did, why Trunks did the things he did… but Gohan didn’t know what to think of it. Gohan was only seven years old, and yet his life’s story was being laid out right in front of him. He was being told that he would lose his father, his friends, his limb, and his life; he was being told whom he would battle, train and love. And now, Gohan didn’t know who he was. Was he the Gohan who slept beside his father in eternal sleep? If not… then who was he? He was the Gohan who stepped into the future, the Gohan who achieved Super Saiyajin earlier – yet was he also connected to the Gohan here? Did what he do now change the future – the present – the past? Was he going to be the Gohan of this now? Kami, Gohan didn’t even know how to refer to time anymore and this was that but also that over there! What was what? Gohan just didn’t – couldn’t – know anymore…

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

Gohan woke up to the sound of somebody vomiting and the fresh stench of stomach acid. Why was it that Gohan always woke up to the scent of blood, bile, or other bodily fluids? The sad thing was that he was accustomed to it. The seven-year old pushed himself up and glanced over at the lavender-haired prince who was puking yet again.

The sun said it was about noon and Gohan noticed that he was on his make-shift bed. His stomach growled and he glanced over to his surely-cold bowl of soup.

Wait a minute! Gohan thought and glanced back at Trunks. “You moved me?” He realized.

The man turned around to look at Gohan apologetically before nausea took over and he turned back to vomit.

Is my cooking that bad? Gohan thought with worry. As Trunks continued to be sick, the younger boy thought back to the reason why he passed out. It was almost as if he had changed into a Super Saiyajin again. But why? Was it because he was angry? That made no sense, it wasn’t even really angry, it was nothing compared to what had unlocked the ability.

“Chibi, I apologize.”

Gohan turned back to Trunks again. He what?

“I’m sorry for treating you like that, it wasn’t fair. I was just taking my anger out on you.”

Gohan smiled. How could he stay mad at that? It was mean, and it wasn’t fair, and Gohan didn’t know why Trunks got mad, but he apologized so it was fine. “It’s alright.” Gohan said and his stomach growled again.

Trunks stood up with a wince and he walked over to his jacket before he pulled out the capsule cases and tossed a capsule over to Gohan. “Catch. Mother gave me about a month’s worth of food. I was supposed to go training after I battled the androids.”

Gohan caught the capsule before activating it, “Why do you continually fight with them even though you know you’re going to lose?” He asked sadly, walking over to a fridge that looked very similar to the one Trunks used in the past for drinks.

The man tossed another capsule over to a nearby rock and walked over to it and opened the fridge that appeared. His head tilted at the contents before he moaned in pain and a hand clenched at his head. Quickly, Trunks closed his eyes, grabbed a drink at what seemed to be random and slammed the door of the fridge shut. He sat down and leaned against the rock before he responded, his voice a bit strained. “If I can distract the androids enough for even a child to run away, if I can amuse them enough to stop them for a few hours, days, or even weeks, it’s worth it. I can buy time.

Gohan had his own reaction to the appearance and contents of the fridge so he did not really notice Trunks’ reaction. He remembered reaching into that same fridge, grabbing one of those cans, and knocking another over accidentally. His eyes zoned in and low-and-behold it was there, on its side like Gohan left it. Yet before he could think on it, the man had responded to his question.

And the words spoken dampened Gohan’s spirits. How could Trunks live like this? How could the world have come to this? One day, Trunks would not be so lucky, one day the androids would become bored of him and they’d kill him. Just as they killed Gohan – his persona in this time. “That’s… That’s just so sad…” Gohan muttered. This world was so sad, so dangerous, so scary.

“But it’s the only thing that I can do.” Trunks said and winced before he clutched his head again. “Hopefully this training will make me stronger, and maybe I’ll be able to destroy them at last.”

Gohan looked at Trunks. How he wanted to help him, but… but… if he could prevent it would it not change Trunks’ time as well? Did it work that way? If so… right now nothing is changing, then I have to get stronger if that is the case, and I have to get back to my own time to change it!

“Chibi, I’ve noticed that you can change – that you have obtained Super Saiyajin. I did not think that was possible, yet you proved me wrong. However, you cannot control it right now.”

As Gohan grabbed a meal kit from the fridge, he sat down and looked at Trunks in curiosity. “I can’t control it?” He asked. Seventeen said something similar – blind rage. Yet that was all he learned from Piccolo, he learned how to use it. Wasn’t that enough? “What do you mean?”

“Once you unlock the ability you must be able to lock it in a box, you must be able to open it at will, use it and direct it. You cannot let the rage control you.” Here, Trunks opened his can and took a sip out of it. “This morning, when you were mad at me, you triggered it. Yet, you were not prepared, you were exhausted, and so you fainted. Master Gohan had told me that once you reached Super Saiyajin you have surpassed your limits. In order to control these limits, in order to make new limits you must train. He also said that even if you train, there still are drawbacks: you become emotional, there is an increased desire to fight, however I think our human blood dilutes that…”

Gohan didn’t even have to hear what Trunks said next, he already knew, The Son could never forget his father’s expression, his blue-green eyes, his voice on Namek. They were harsher, almost angry. It was as if his dad was a completely different person. Even though Goku had worn his heart on his sleeve, even though his father was a happy person, he wasn’t an emotional one. While Vegeta displayed anger and pride, Goku displayed happiness and humour. All other emotions seemed to be nonexistent – fear, sorrow, disappointment…

“So Chibi.” Trunks continued. “You must learn to direct that anger, that rage, you need to channel it. Mediation helps.” Here, the prince smiled. “It is perhaps the only thing I can show you right now in my state. Once my ribs heal I can help some more.”

Gohan shook his head. “I already know, and I also know battle simulations. So tell me, Trunks, what must I do?”

“Trunks?” Chibi asked him. “Are you sure you’re fine? I mean even your ribs healed but you’re still puking.”

The child was still a mystery to him. He knew so many things that he shouldn’t have learned without training and schooling, he knew a lot of terms and knowledge that would be almost impossible for somebody his age to attain now, and it mystified the prince. After another lurch of his stomach, Trunks rinsed his mouth out with water. “My concussion hasn’t healed yet, that’s all. Brain matter probably takes longer to heal.”

For the most part, Chibi was quiet. Often, however, he stared at Trunks, and it was starting to unnerve the man. Did he… did he scare Gohan’s kid when he mistook Chibi for his father? He hoped not!

“My d-” Chibi started but shook his head. “Never mind, I forgot about that.”

Trunks dismissed the child’s slipup. Instead, he sighed and glanced up at the sky. Trunks could feel Gohan’s ki in the child as he mediated. It was unnerving. How could their ki be almost identical? If Trunks didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that ki was Gohan’s.

He knew that he could not push himself too hard with the concussion still unhealed – especially since his symptoms didn’t seem to let up. The androids must have gotten him good. His memory had not returned either – the memory of where he went last month. His partially empty fridge of drinks also seemed to be connected to those memories, because whenever he thought about where those drinks went…

Ouch! Why was his vision swimming? Trunks glanced over at Chibi and an image was superimposed over and around the boy. His hair was longer and looked just like Gohan’s when it wasn’t cut for awhile. There were people whom he didn’t know personally standing around the boy, ones that he knew the names of but only because of the pictures in his living room. There was Goku, Krillin, Tenshihan, Chiaotzu, Piccolo, Yamcha, Puar and even his father – Vegeta. His mother was there too, and her hairstyle was like how his grandmother used to have her hair and she was standing near Yamcha. Oh Kami! It felt like his head was splitting in two, it felt like his body was on fire! Then he felt, and saw nothing.

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

How could he have forgotten that! Kami… his chest hurt and it wasn’t because his ribs were broken. The wounds that had been opened before but closed by memory were torn anew. So, so this was the kid that the androids encountered! This was the boy formed by his teacher and some… some girl. This was the boy who held Gohan’s genes, this was the sole survivor of the Son line! He wouldn’t go so low as to call the child a bastard though, seeing that he, too, was one. His eyes narrowed as he glared up at the boy he learned to call Chibi and saw as he froze, as the child had withdrawn his hand looked away guiltily. He knew it. Their looks, their mannerisms, their ki, their smell, and even their taste was the same. “How old are you?” He deserved to know, he deserved to find out if Gohan had truly betrayed him.

“Seven…” The boy said meekly. “I just turned seven.”

Trunks winced, he felt tears come but he forced them away. He remembered back then, when he had just turned nine a week prior and Gohan was turning eighteen in a few hours… that was when Trunks had given Gohan an early gift – his first kiss. That was when they passed the line from mentor-and-student, brothers, father-and-son, best friends, to boyfriends. And unless the woman had an unusual carrying time, there was no way that Gohan could have remained loyal to him.

“Trunks… what’s wrong? Did I bind your ribs wrong? Did I knock them out of place? Is it your concussion?” Chibi asked as his eyes wandered Trunks’ body for injuries. He reached out to help.

No! He couldn’t allow it. This kid! This kid was the proof the Gohan wasn’t loyal to him! Was it because Gohan didn’t have enough faith in him? Was it because he thought that Trunks would fail? The Saiyajin prince slapped the small hand away and continued to glare into those big, black eyes. “Don’t touch me!” He yelled, but his ribs wouldn’t let him ignore them anymore as he yelped and fell forward. Fuck they hurt!

And yet, his words were not heeded as the boy lifted him and moved him to lie against the rock again. He glanced at the stone set and realized Gohan must have shown the boy it, and… why was the boy wearing Saiyajin armour? Did Gohan have some stashed away somewhere? Then, those cursed small hands grabbed a pot before collecting some water and placing it over the fire. Next, he used the knives to cut the partially-cooked meat into the pot before he turned around.

“I’m going to get some herbs.”

Chibi’s voice sounded neutral, and if he was hiding anger behind those lips, he was hiding it well, because Trunks couldn’t tell.

What was up with Trunks! Gohan glared at the herbs that he went out to pick. After guessing that he was his own son, Trunks started to treat him like he was the dirtiest piece of trash on an immaculate lawn! Then, when Gohan displayed concern, the man slapped his hand away! How could Trunks be his student and yet direct so much anger towards whom he thought Gohan’s son was! If was as if the prince hated Gohan, and hated him for being his own supposed son! Yet Trunks even admitted to missing him! How? Gohan couldn’t understand it! If Piccolo had a son, Gohan wouldn’t treat the boy like Trunks was treating him, especially of Piccolo was dead. No, Gohan would cherish the child, raise him, and tell him stories of his father…

But as the Son carefully plucked the herbs (they never tasted good if he yanked them from the ground) his anger blinded him from whatever obvious truth there was.

When Gohan returned, the pot was beginning to bubble and his irritation at Trunks was hidden. “It’ll be done in five minutes.” Gohan said but avoided the other’s gaze. He would not look into the anger that was in those blue eyes.

And it seemed that Trunks decided to be silent and ignore him as well. Good, that suited Gohan. The boy sprinkled the herbs into the water and stirred it. He knew that the soup wouldn’t taste great (he was supposed to let the herbs sit in the water, bring it to a boil and add partially cooked meat in last) but he forgot about Trunks’ stomach earlier. He should have made the man eat solid food and let him puke it up – but that was rude and his mother always told him to mind his manners no matter what. Though, he reasoned, it probably didn’t apply to people who were trying to kill him, but since Trunks wasn’t trying to that exception didn’t work. Instead, the man just hated Gohan for being his own child – for being something he was not. It was infuriating but manners must be minded. As long as he remains quiet anyway…. Gohan thought with a glance over to the man.

…Who was simply looking at the pot of food. Oh well, it was better than glaring at him anyway. Gohan glanced over at the food and deemed it ready. He dipped one bowl in before giving it, and a spoon, to Trunks. Next, he grabbed another bowl – Trunks probably made his own since Trunks knew about the stone set, and Gohan only made one in his time – and filled it with more soup.

“Hey, you’ve got my bowl.” Trunks said spitefully.

“And you’ve got Gohan’s.” Gohan said and used the spoon to begin eating, but after a spoonful he continued. “You said you missed him so you can use it.”

“Did I give you permission to use mine?” The blue-eyed man snapped back.

“Then let me use Gohan’s.”

“No, make your own!”

Gohan’s eyebrow twitched. “I–” He started but realized I did would just confuse Trunks. “I own what is Gohan’s.” He said instead. It was the truth, and even to Trunks’ ears it would be sound.

The blue eyes iced over in pure hatred. “You! You think you can waltz in and take things? Oh hell no! Just because you’re his son doesn’t entitle you to everything! You need to earn it brat!” Here, Gohan saw a smirk that Trunks had inherited from his father. “And I know of one thing that was – is – his and you’ll never get it!”

Gohan’s eyes flowered. “I have to earn it? Earn a bowl? Earn his power? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” He knew he was letting his temper get the better of him but he didn’t care.

Trunks laughed. “Everything Chibi.”

Here, Gohan put down his bowl and stood up. “And your respect is on that list too? I suppose saving your life isn’t enough huh? What is it that you have against me anyway? Or is it that you’ve got something against Gohan? Is it because Gohan died? Is that why you hate me?” However, something felt wrong. He couldn’t control his anger, it was slipping from his grasp. What was wrong! Even his mouth wouldn’t stop! “I don’t understand you! I wouldn’t dishonour my mentor’s memory by treating his son like garbage!” Why was Gohan’s body glowing and his hair standing up? Why was his ki rapidly rising? Why couldn’t he control it?”

“What…”

Why was Trunks surprised? Why was he getting dizzy? Why was he…

Trunks stared at the boy. He had… he had just turned Super Saiyajin. But how? He’s only a quarter Saiyajin! Yet, now I do know that he’s Gohan’s son… a mere human could not do that, and Gohan and I were the only Saiyajins living when the boy was born. Trunks pushed himself up into a standing position – slowly and solemnly. Even so, it still hurt but it was something that he could deal with. He had dealt with worse.

The kid’s words also rung in his head, the ones yelled in anger and confusion, and they made him think. The child was mad, but he had made some sense, and it made Trunks feel bad. Why was he treating Chibi the way he was? Because Trunks didn’t notice it before, he proved that Gohan wasn’t loyal, because he gave Gohan a reason to be disloyal? Those reasons didn’t sit well with him. The child was as much of a chooser of his parents as he was of his black eyes. And even though Trunks was unable to chose his own fate – that was decided because of who his father was – he had to follow it for the fate of the entire world depended on it, this was different because he was judging Chibi and he was treating him horribly solely based on who his father was. Chibi was right… it was Gohan whom he should be mad at, not his son! Chibi deserved an apology – that is if he would accept it. If he didn’t, Trunks would understand because he was being an absolute prick to Chibi.

The lavender-haired warrior sighed and looked at the unconscious child. He just couldn’t… leave him there on the ground could he? Chibi had to have been sleeping somewhere. Trunks glanced around and saw a makeshift bed of leaves and grass and proceeded to pick the child up and carry him over to the bed. Next, he walked over to some bushes nearby and relieved himself before he returned to his spot by the river and against the rock.

Chibi was a very unusual character. For he was reluctant to reveal that he was Gohan’s son, he called Gohan by name and not father or dad or any other familiar terms. It confused Trunks, and he wondered why that was? Was Chibi ashamed at being Gohan’s son, and is only now accepting that fact and abusing it to get back at his old man? Or was the child just estranged from his father and only knew him as Gohan, only could think of him as that and not as a father? There was also the way the child spoke – cryptic, calculated, cautious – almost as if he was hiding something, trying to dance around a series of steps that could uncover his secret if he slipped up. Chibi was awful mysterious as well since Trunks only knew a select few facts that he could number off on one hand while the child seemed to be far more knowledgeable about him.

Could it be when the boy had found him after the android attack? Trunks couldn’t remember anything after falling to his defeat to waking up by the river and puking his guts out, and he’d probably never be able to recollect that time, concussions tended to do that. Did he talk up a storm? Did the child hear rumours? Did the androids tell Gohan’s son, or was it Gohan himself who did the talking?

Yet, there was something that continued to bother him – that he could not remember where he had gone a few weeks ago, and something told him that wasn’t right. Did he get a concussion there too? He didn’t even remember how he left or even what he said when he returned except that he had just simply returned. And now his head was hurting even more so than before, it was throbbing, it felt like it was going to explode. Perhaps he’d just eat some soup and sleep. Sleep sounded like a good idea, because whenever he thought about where he went before, his head acted up, or at least more than usual. Trunks massaged his temples, trying to will the pain away.

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

“Trunks.”

The lavender-haired prince groaned as he was shook. He didn’t want to get up, his head was killing him, and he saw red through his eyelids. At least the air was cool…

“Trunks!”

Why did that voice sound familiar? Trunks didn’t really know. He liked the voice though.

“Wake up Trunks!”

Oh Kami… his stomach was churning and the man sat up and turned to his left – away from the sound of the voice – and threw up. What happened to him? He felt like shit.

“Eww….” The voice was male, but it was young and Trunks rubbed his eyes and opened them to see a boy with Gohan’s hair cut, with Gohan’s eyes, and Gohan’s face… except the latter was filled with disgust – an emotion he hardly saw on Gohan’s face. Who was this kid?

“I think you’ve got a concussion, the androids must have hit your head too hard.”

Well, that much was obvious. Wait… where was the city? Oh Kami… no… did they demolish it? He looked around, taking in the familiar geography. No… this place was where Gohan took him training often.

“Here, drink this.” The miniature Gohan said as he lifted something made of stone to his lips. “It’s just water.”

Trunks swallowed wearily. He was tired… his whole body hurt…

“Oh no you’re not!” The boy exclaimed. “You’re going to eat first, it’s better if you get something in you, even if you’re going to puke it up later.”

Trunks groaned and a stone bowl and spoon was shoved in front of him. At least it smelled good…

He felt eyes on him, and Trunks sighed before leaning back on the rock behind him and bringing the spoon to his mouth. The spoon was small, obviously made for a child’s mouth. Yet, it reminded him of something… but he’d get back to that later. Thinking just hurt his head.

He was a bit worried though, because Trunks didn’t really seem too fazed by it. Hopefully it was just the concussion and not acclimatization. Seeing how his mother acted was hard enough…

As Gohan took the now-finished bowl from Trunks, he heard the man finally speak for the first time since all those years ago.

“Who… are you?”

Yet, before Gohan could answer, he was out like a light.

If the androids could do this to the man who defeated Frieza so easily… Gohan’s stomach clenched… Just obtaining Super Saiyajin still made him so far away from his goal. It was as if he had reached the top and opened the door, only to reach another set of stairs, much steeper than before.

“Nmmn…” He groaned before sliding back onto the rock and looking around with a wince in his eyes. Then those eyes locked with Gohan’s own, searching his black depths with curiosity. “Who are you?” He asked groggily.

“What do you remember? In the last few weeks I mean.” Gohan said quietly as he poked at the dwindling fire with a stick.

“Well…” Trunks said, not looking away from Gohan. “I remember coming home, then the androids were terrorizing people for weeks – but that isn’t new – yet I could never catch up to them… then they attacked Parsley City and I battled them there, but I lost, as usual. Then I’m here and you’re feeding me soup. I remember thinking I felt Gohan’s ki too… hey why do you look like him?”

Gohan stared at Trunks. The best word to describe the man was loopy and perhaps that was complimenting it. When he met Trunks the man was confident, he was composed, he was knowledgeable, mysterious, composed, polite. Yet now, he didn’t seem to be able to concentrate on anything. “Where.” Gohan prompted. “Where did you come back from?”

Trunks tilted his head, his face screwed in contemplation before wincing. “That… I can’t really remember.”

Gohan let out a sigh.

“That’s really weird… I remember leaving, and I remember coming back, but I don’t remember in between… and you still haven’t answered my questions.” Trunks said, regaining most of his consciousness now.

At least Trunks could remember what happened after he passed out… that was always good. But that relief did nothing for his frustration. How could he explain something to Trunks when he knew nothing of it… and even then, it was just a hypothesis, he wasn’t too sure. It seemed that they just might have to go see Bulma.

In response, there was one thing he could say, yet he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to lie… but Trunks had enough head trauma lately he didn’t need confusion on top of that. “Why does it matter?” He mumbled and finally managed to get the fire going again. Next, he stuck the two pieces of meat on sticks and let them cook by the fire.

“Well, it’s kind of rude to ask questions but not answer them. Secondly I don’t know who you are. How do I know you aren’t planning on using me or something?”

His logic seemed intact enough… Maybe he didn’t have to lie. “The androids call me Chibi Gohan, and don’t worry, I hate them. Probably not as much as you – yet – but I still hate them. I’m on your side.”

Trunks tried to wrap his mind around the words. “Chibi Gohan hmm? Well you kinda do look like my… late master. What do you mean by yet though? It’s almost as if you expect them to do something.”

Why did it seem ironic that it was he who held all the answers now? That he was the mysterious one? If it weren’t for Trunks, he wouldn’t even be here. Why did Trunks go back in time anyway? All he wanted to do was talk to Goku… But, Gohan gave Trunks a weak smile. “You’re older than me, you’ve known them longer than I have.”

“I suppose you’re right. But Chibi, why won’t you tell me who you are?” He winced after the statement, leaning against the rock behind him.

“Just call me Chibi.” Gohan insisted. He didn’t want to tell a lie.

There was a sad frown on Trunks’ face and he moved to get up. What for, Gohan never found out, for he started coughing and holding his ribs. “Chibi, I have a medical kit in my jacket, Capsule 110 I believe, there should be some bandages to bind my chest. I…” Trunks winced and relaxed back on the rock. “I think some of my ribs are broken.”

Gohan almost slapped his face. How could he have forgotten about the capsules! He scrambled over and pulled out two cases. In one, there was a missing capsule, and the other was completely full. It was in the first that he found the capsule and he pressed down on the compress before rolling it away. A puff of smoke flashed before the medical kit appeared and he went over to grab it, bringing it over to Trunks’ side.

“Can you help me with my shirt Chibi?”

The boy from the past nodded and shuffled over to support Trunks with one arm as he leaned up from the rock. With his other hand, he pulled up the black shirt. It was a little difficult and slow, but he supposed that was better – the less he moved Trunks, the less damage would have to heal.

Gohan felt eyes on him, and as he moved his eyes up, he was met with Trunks’ heated gaze. Gohan squirmed; the look in those blue eyes was making him uncomfortable. He recognised that look though, it was the look his parents had in their eyes when they looked at each other. Gohan didn’t know how to feel though, now that it was aimed at him, did he like it or was it something he didn’t want? Don’t worry about it, it’s probably only his concussion. Gohan reasoned and tore his eyes away. Then, the black-haired demi pulled Trunks towards him, almost in an embrace, so that he leaned against Gohan, and that Gohan had both hands free. He grabbed the bandages from the kit and began to bind Trunks’ ribs.

The warrior’s breath was slow – almost laboured – and hot against Gohan’s neck. “Gohan…”

The name was whispered and made the boy freeze. Did Trunks figure it out?

Then muscled arms wrapped around his body. “I missed you.”

It was the concussion, Gohan concluded. “T-Trunks.” He whimpered, Trunks was making him uneasy. It didn’t feel bad, but it didn’t feel good either. It just felt… weird. He wanted to get out of this position, wanted Trunks to be a good patient and let his ribs be bound, but what could he say? He couldn’t lie. He was Gohan, but at the same time he wasn’t. However, when something warm, wet, and fleshy trailed along his neck, Gohan couldn’t help but react and he shoved Trunks away from his body with his eyes wide from shock. Wh-What was that! What did Trunks just do? The Son mentally screamed and hugged his own body. That just didn’t feel right. He looked up to see Trunks groaning against the rock, his head slumped and Gohan’s eyes widened. “Trunks! Are you alright? Can you hear me? Oh Kami, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! It’s just–”

It’s just… what?

“It’s alright Chibi, it was my fault.” Trunks said with a grin through his pain. “I thought you were someone else.”

Gohan shuffled over to the man who would be his pupil, who was his pupil. “Did I hurt you? Did you hit your head?”

“Nah, you just rattled my back. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Why…. Why did those words sadden him? And to think that I left him here, I left him all alone… The boy turned around and moved over to the dinosaur tail slices cooking by the fire before he realized something, and so he voiced it. “Hey, Trunks… do you think you could eat solid food? I could make the soup I made last night, cause… well you were puking yesterday.”

Yet, Trunks didn’t respond. Instead his eyes wandered over to the stone cutlery that he made as a child. “Those look like… hey Chibi where’d you get those?”

Gohan bit his lip as he turned the meat around. Apparently he showed the other the cutlery, not to mention there was another set that he knew he didn’t make. “Um, hidden under the rock you’re lying on?” He tried.

Trunks was wary and suspicious as he looked at Gohan. “How long have I been out?”

“You passed out yesterday afternoon.” Gohan said neutrally. “I brought you here.”

“You?” The prince said in disbelief. “It’s a day’s walk from Parsley City and you’re telling me you carried me over here before the morning? I remember waking up and it was dark…”

Gohan sighed. “A day’s walk, yes, but thirty minutes by air. And beside you were already out of the city when I found you.” Gohan glanced over towards the forgotten stone utensils. “But enough of that, do you want the soup? It’ll taste better if I cook it now before the meat is finished.”

“Capsule Corporation doesn’t make aircrafts anymore so nobody travels by air anymore. They wouldn’t anyway, with the androids and especially not just after an attack. Who are you? You’ve been avoiding that question all day Chi…bi…” Trunks’ gaze seemed to go blank before his face contorted in pain and he held his head. Then he gasped, apparently oblivious to his broken ribs. “No…” The words were soft, they were in disbelief, but not the disbelief of realization. No, it was as if he didn’t want to believe. His right arm crossed his body as it clutched at his chest and his left wrapped around his waist and he curled over.

Gohan watched this, wide eyes before he scrambled over to Trunks, laying a hand at his back. “Trunks! What’s wrong?”

“You…” The word sounded hateful, accusing. “You’re Gohan’s kid, aren’t you!”

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. time/scene skip
.xxx. perspective change

*****

Was it because there were too many people dying? Was it because it was too tragic, too true? Gohan slammed his clenched hand into the earth. He didn’t want to see everybody dying! He didn’t want to be here! He didn’t want the world to end up like this! He didn’t want to die!

Gohan shivered, hugging his own body. He felt the androids attacking again, not too far away… he couldn’t go today, he was too weak.

But that was always the case, wasn’t it? He was too weak to save his dad against his uncle, he was too weak to challenge Nappa and Vegeta, he was too weak to save Namek, he was too weak when Frieza attacked Earth.

Even now, he was too weak to go back home and warn everybody about these androids, about this fate. He was stuck in these wastelands again, and could not leave until he was strong enough. He could not fly – what if those androids could sense him – he could not move – what if he ran into them?

Now he knew what Grandmother Lodi was talking about. Even though he had seen horrors in his life – he saw people dying, he saw a world as it was about to explode – there was nothing more terrifying than this place, this time. He was trapped in a cage of fear, unable to move, unable to do anything but hide. He was ruled by those androids with their evil, sadistic smirks…Yet, he had a fear that the old woman would never have guessed.

Gohan had to face them all over again. He had to face them with the knowledge that they will kill his friends, kill everybody he knows, that they will cause terror in every man, woman and child on Earth, that they will kill him.

How? How could Gohan face them with that knowledge?

Then, Trunks’ ki signalled in the distance. Gohan’s head shot up. He could feel the golden power of a Super Saiyajin, and yet… he could feel it waning. Gohan’s eyes closed as he entered the meditative state yet again.

He could feel the ki, he could sense the emotions. Anger, desperation, curiosity… shock? Pain.

Gohan broke out of it. What was going on over there? Why was Trunks so… emotional?

Yet, the ki continued to drop. It was slow… it was torturous. Was this what it meant to be stronger yet not strong enough? To have torture prolonged? To have the pain inflicted even harder?

Trunks’ ki continued to drop, and Gohan could not do anything about it. Fear had him glued to the spot. He was supposed to be Trunks’ mentor… he was supposed to train him…he was supposed to protect him…

Did he sacrifice himself for Trunks, like Piccolo had for him?

Then, images played out in his mind. Once again was he younger, watching as Nappa’s energy blast headed towards him. Then, the man whom he began to look up to, jumped in front of him, spoke words of hope.

And yet, Gohan couldn’t understand them at that moment. All that he knew was that Piccolo was going to die – die for his mistakes, die just like his dad did, and there wasn’t going to be any dragon balls to bring him back…

But that scene warped. Instead, it wasn’t Nappa, no it was the androids. They were toying with his beloved mentor, they were torturing him, and Piccolo’s ki was falling – just as Trunks’ was – slowly, gradually…

Then Seventeen approached him as Eighteen continued to play with Piccolo.

“Why aren’t you yellow?” He said with clear disappointment. “I told you to be yellow!”

The man had punched him across the jaw. And yet, Piccolo’s ki was still falling.

“Tch, you are pathetic.” He said as he charged the bolt that would surely be his death.

Piccolo’s ki had become almost zero. “Go-han…” The voice was Piccolo’s yet it was desperate, something his mentor was not.

“Then again.” The black-haired android said, turning towards Piccolo instead. “Maybe this’ll get you angry enough. How about I kill your father’s mentor like I killed him? Will that make you fun to play with?”

Gohan’s eyes widened. He didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t take his eyes off. The light grew before it flew towards Piccolo.

The ki disappeared.

Trunks knew that he was no match for them, yet he still tried. Some days he could hold his own against one, and other days he couldn’t. They always overpowered him in the end though. Why? Why was it always this way? And even now, with the knowledge of Gohan’s son driving him, he still could not defeat them. Was that the reason he kept feeling his old mentor’s ki? Was the rock, the mountainside all indicators that the child had lost? That the child had tried to defend himself?

And, as he fell to the ground, his hair losing the artificial tint, Trunks thought he sensed it again, thought that he felt Gohan’s ki sparking to life, shining golden just like before…

Gohan didn’t know the moment that he had closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he saw yellow. Reality and the twisted world in his mind had given rise to the anger that he pulled out from deep within him. And, even if he knew that Seventeen hadn’t killed Piccolo to rouse him (or perhaps he had, Gohan didn’t know, and didn’t want to know) he wanted to pummel the artificial human to the ground, destroy every piece into oblivion. But… but where was Trunks’ ki? Gohan’s eyes widened. No! They couldn’t have!

His heart raced before he took off towards the ruined city. His speed had increased and the moment he got there, he saw that they were leaving. He glanced down at the smoking metropolis and glared at them.

“Why, look it’s the brat.” Eighteen said with a smirk. “And his hair… it seems that you will get your fun as well Seventeen.”

“I’ll say… it’s almost as if I’m looking into the past. Don’t you remember that glare Eighteen? The one Gohan gave us when we killed all of his comrades? It’s such a pity his father died before we could kill him.” Seventeen responded with that evil smirk.

Gohan felt his blood boil. “As if you could have killed him.” He rumbled lowly.

“Aww, he even cares for the grandfather he never knew. How adorable.”

Gohan’s emotions were getting the better of him, and he charged blindly towards Seventeen.

“Tsk, tsk.” The android said as he held Gohan’s fists and dodged the flying kicks. “You really need some training.”

Yet, this was all Gohan knew. Charge at the enemy with as much rage as you can muster. When Gohan let his anger go, all strategy, all logic seemed to vanish. There was not enough time to hone the anger, not enough to keep a cool head with all of it in tow, not enough to learn to direct it in every punch, every kick.

“You’ve certainly gained strength and speed, but you’re just going berserk. This isn’t fun at all.” Seventeen said before kneeing Gohan in the stomach again and bringing his elbow down on his neck.

Everything else faded. Gohan didn’t even feel his body as it fell down into the rubble of the city.

Trunks pushed himself up from the street he fell on. Rocks and debris fell from his body as he rose. He coughed, dust escaping his lungs and he leaned against a street light. The sky was lit in twilight – the sun was setting, or perhaps rising, and he did a quick examination on his body. A few of his ribs were at least bruised – but probably broken if he knew Eighteen. His head was throbbing, and bruises littered his body. At least he had prevented further destruction of the city… usually after they had their fun with him, they left for a few days, perhaps a week or two if he was lucky.

It was almost depressing that he was so accustomed to this, that every time he woke up in the middle of a destroyed city, he didn’t panic. He just knew that he finished a battle with the androids. It took him a little while (especially even more so when he had a concussion) to remember what exactly had happened. And yet, all that he could pick up was that he finally managed to catch the androids this time, and that he was in Parsley City, after weeks of failed attempts.

Yet, there was something else that he knew he should remember, but his head felt foggy and it was full of pain. He’d remember it eventually.

As he reached into his jacket, he found a small box and remembered that he was to go training. He had the food, and he always carried a medical kit around with him. With a sigh, Trunks hobbled out of the city. The place that had become their training grounds – Gohan and his – was not too far away. If he could get there and find a place to rest near the river, he could manage recovery and begin his training.

Oh Kami… he felt like he was going to… Trunks leaned over and let out the meal his mother made from him earlier in the day… the sun was setting with the heat that was just starting to dissipate, not increase.

Ugh… he hated it when that happened… and his head just wouldn’t stop hurting…

As Gohan came to, he groaned. He glanced around, panicked at first before settling down. He was just getting accustomed to waking up in a post-apocalyptic world. But… where was he now? His stomach was hurting again, as did his head.

And the memories rushed back to him. He… he had become Super Saiyajin, he had come to Trunks’ rescue, yet where was Trunks? No! He couldn’t be dead! Gohan stood up and forced himself to fly, searching desperately for the unique ki signature, and he found it! There! Not too far away from him! It was weak, it was fluctuating, but it was there! Gohan flew down and landed behind Trunks, only to catch him as he toppled over. “Trunks!” He yelled out, his hand automatically looking for a pulse, and he relaxed once he felt it.

Yet, Gohan was still too weak to carry the other back to the training ground. (He had to avoid civilization, for he could not risk running into the androids right now) Perhaps… maybe…

“Kinto’un!” Gohan yelled and watched the skies. There was no response and Gohan sighed, looking down at the ground, this was going to be a long journey. Yet, just as he was about to lift off the ground, he felt a blast of air next to him. He glanced at the cloud, then at Trunks. Would the cloud let Trunks on? Trunks was Vegeta’s son…Gohan winced as he lifted Trunks onto the cloud… and he didn’t go through. Perhaps it could be that he’s asleep… Gohan thought with relief before joining the man on the cloud. “To the training grounds!” Gohan yelled and held onto the unconscious man as they flew through the skies.

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. <-time/scene skip
.xxx. <-perspective change

*****

When Gohan woke up, he felt like he had just been beaten up by Vegeta… His head was killing him and everything hurt – especially his stomach. Gohan didn’t even have to check to know he had bruising.

It was hard to distinguish hunger from bruise though, and Gohan pulled himself out of the river. Somehow, he managed to grasp onto the land in semi-consciousness, or luck just was on his side. (Not on his front for sure though…)

He was soaking wet, cold, hungry and injured. He needed to get food, and then heal up. He wouldn’t dare to fly in this state.

There was heavy breathing above him, and a drop of large saliva slid down his shoulder. Gohan glanced up to see a very familiar face.

Apparently it recognized him too and panic filled its face. It picked the wrong prey today.

Gohan’s stomach growled and almost comically, the gigantic T-Rex turned tail (well, whatever was left of it anyway) and ran. Gohan let out a short laughter, but halting the once his stomach muscles protested before he ran after the dinosaur. He hasn’t had dinosaur tail in awhile…

.+++.

It took Gohan a few days to recover, but he was glad where he ended up. He knew this land like the back of his hand, it was the place Piccolo took him training after his dad died. And now was he ever glad that Piccolo left him alone for those six months. Today, he should continue on, go to where Trunks was. Yet… Gohan knew that he had to be cautious, for if he was caught by the androids again, he knew that he wouldn’t have a second chance. Seventeen wanted to face him as a Super Saiyajin, and yet, Gohan didn’t know if he could achieve it right now. It took Krillin’s death for his dad to become one, it took the death of everybody he knew for his future self to become one. What did it take for Trunks? Was it his future death? Gohan shuddered at the thought of his fate being absolute. He was going to lose his left arm… he was going to die… all at the hands of these androids. Gohan glanced down at his left limb and let his right arm caress it. What would it be like losing a limb? What would it be like dying? Gohan didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to find out.

Yet, it almost seemed that he would. The world, it felt so empty… before he could sense all of his father’s friends – Krillin, Yamcha, Vegeta… – his father, Piccolo, and now, all he could sense was Master Roshi and those that lived with him, his mother and grandfather, Bulma and weaker humans. There was a stronger force, a force that he remembered, but it seemed hidden. Very weak yet, Gohan knew that it could become stronger.

Gohan sighed as he drew random shapes in the ground beneath him. How could it have come down to this? Just him left, then this Trunks fellow? How could those androids be so powerful? He knew that he should get going, should try to get back to his own time, but he was afraid. What if he ran into the androids again? Gohan needed to get stronger, he knew that, but how? Every time he attempted to become stronger, he sparred with a friend, an ally. How could he do it on his own? His father had done it, he had traveled the lands facing enemies… he used gravity chambers… Yet what could Gohan do? He was out in the middle of nowhere, with nobody around, nobody strong enough that is, and completely clueless.

What would his father do?

He would train as hard as he could, he would reach the androids’ expectations and above, he would challenge them and then go back in time to do it all over again.

But Gohan wasn’t like his father. He didn’t like fighting. But what he liked to do and what he had to do didn’t always coincide with one another, that he did know, and it was proven by his future self. He fought for Earth, tried to protect it as best as he could… even with the distaste for fighting.

And Gohan knew that he needed to go home. His mother probably missed him, she probably was worried sick, and without him… Trunks would never even stand a chance against these androids, the one yet to be born. And in order to go home, he had to fly and risk running into the androids which meant he needed to achieve Super Saiyajin. He could do it, Gohan knew that, yet could he do it, right now, without the others dying?

It required anger… and anger was something that unlocked Gohan’s powers. He knew that. Anger and if something threatened his life. He unlocked it a few days ago, once he was angry at how Seventeen acted. He remembered his words: playing with you is like playing with those humans all those years ago… fun for a few minutes, but quickly boring.

He would use that. Gohan closed his eyes and entered the meditative state Piccolo taught him. In his mind he imagined the two androids. Then he imagined everybody. They were being beaten horribly, they were being played with – just as he was – and they were being mocked. The androids wore bored expressions as they taunted those who were obviously weaker than they. He tried to see it as if he were there, feeling their ki slowly diminish.

He felt the anger, he felt the dread. It was crawling up on him, coiling within him, filling his being. There was fear – horror – at observing their strength, their brutality, their boredom. He felt helpless, he felt weak. Sadness and sorrow crept up in the background, because he knew that they would never win, that eventually they would die.

And it was unfair! It was not right! It was… it was…

No! His eyes snapped open and he fell towards the ground on his hands and knees, his heart racing, his chest heaving.

It was too much!

.xxx.

Trunks felt that niggling again, he thought he felt that familiar ki twitch, he thought he felt a disturbance, but he had to ignore it. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t real. It was just his emotions getting in the way again. It could have been hunger too, for each time he thought the ki spiked into existence was when he had to eat.

Kami… I’m really out of it! His name can also mean rice, and here I am thinking about him when it’s time to eat! Trunks thought and groaned. Was he really that lovesick?

“Trunks! It’s time to eat!” Bulma yelled out from the kitchen. Trunks groaned. He really needed to stop this.

“Coming Mother.”

“So, Trunks, it seems that the charge is going to take while… it’s only one-sixth full.” Bulma said as she sat down. “Probably another five more months. Why don’t you go out to train? I mean… you’ll be facing the androids in the past…”

“But Mother… I can’t just leave you here!” Trunks said with wide eyes. “What if the androids attack? Who will protect you? What about the time machine?”

“I survived on Namek when Gohan and Krillin left me alone, I’m fairly certain that I, and the time machine, can find a safe enough hiding place until then.” Bulma said with a smile. “Besides, you need to train anyway, you need to keep up your body.”

Just as Trunks began to eat, he felt it. No, not Gohan’s ghostly ki, but others fading. They were close and the warrior’s head snapped up. “Mother, I need to go.” He said and stood up, running to where his sword was.

“Trunks! Wait!” Bulma called after her son before tossing a square box of capsules at him. “A month’s worth of food.”

Trunks gave a soft smile. “You always know what I’ll say, don’t you?” He said before disappearing into his room to grab the weapon and flying off to Parsley City.

.+++.

“Why, look who’s here…” Seventeen said with a smirk as they floated above the wreckage they caused.

“Indeed, maybe this time I can have some fun.” Eighteen responded pompously.

“Tch.” Seventeen spat out. “Just ‘cause I got to play with the brat doesn’t mean you can have the pupil! It was hardly a fight!”

“You know the rules Seventeen! We always take turns. Don’t worry, you’ll get him next round.”

Trunks glared at the two artificial humans who were clearly mocking him. From what he could tell, he was going to be facing Eighteen. Why? He didn’t know, and he really didn’t care. He just wanted to get this over with. He let the power of a Super Saiyajin out and charged at the woman, who quite easily blocked his attack.

“Talk about rude. I thought Gohan had pounded some manners into you.” She said. “We were in the middle of a conversation you know.”

“Does it look like I give a damn?” Trunks countered with a smirk, firing a blast towards her as she held his sword.

“Why do you get the yellow hair!” Seventeen seemed spiteful almost. “Hey! Eighteen! Don’t kill him! Maybe he can teach the brat to do that!”

Eighteen kicked away the ki blast with the tip of her boot before letting it connect to Trunks’ head, sending him flying in recoil. “Are you stupid or something? We killed Gohan for a reason! Or are we going to do away with this one once he lives out his usefulness too?” She said, turning her back to Trunks.

As Trunks collided into the building he stared up at them. What…. What were they talking about? Curiosity almost got the better of him as he moved to sheath his sword. No! It didn’t matter! They had to die! Now! He charged towards Eighteen with the blade.

“Maybe we should let this guy breed as well, then his kid will try to exact revenge on us too.” Seventeen said as he relaxed in the air.

“Ugh!” Eighteen said in disgust as she blocked Trunks’ sword with her forearm. “You disgust me Seventeen!”

However, Trunks’ eyes widened in shock, and he didn’t even attempt to dodge the blow aimed at his stomach. What did Seventeen just say? Too? As well?

“Oh dear, I think you just spilled a secret brother… he didn’t even try to protect himself from my punch.” Eighteen said with a laugh. “Apparently he didn’t know his mentor had a kid.”

Gohan had… no way, that’s impossible! Trunks thought and held his stomach in physical and emotional pain.

Seventeen joined in on the laughter. “Look at that expression! It almost makes me want to cry! He looks like you just crushed his heart, not his stomach!”

“Technically, that was your doing Seventeen. I just reinforced it.”

“I suppose.” The black-haired android said before he floated down in front of Trunks. “The brat even acknowledged it. He’s the spitting image of Gohan. In fact, he almost looks exactly like Gohan did when we killed all of his friends.”

“And… you left him alive?” Trunks grunted out, but this time the pain was metaphorical and not literal.

“What use is a toy if you break it early on? I told him to learn that funny skill you Saiyajins have to change your hair colour before he sees me next, or else I’m going to kill him. He’s stronger than the rest of the humans though, I’ll give you that.”

Trunks was filled with mixed emotions. He was hurt, torn, and heartbroken. He didn’t know what was more painful – the fact that Gohan had… betrayed him, or the fact that Gohan hadn’t told him. Yet, regardless of all of this, Trunks felt the need to protect Gohan’s son, to train him, to raise him. If Gohan had really left something in this world, then it was his job as his pupil to protect it! And it… it was something of his mentor’s…

“Now…” Trunks didn’t notice that Seventeen had backed up, and Eighteen took his place. She lifted his head with her index finger. “Are you going to continue our fight or just float there in your own head?”

Trunks’ eyes hardened. If he could defeat them now, then perhaps Gohan’s son could live the rest of his life in peace!

He charged once again.

Authors’ Notes: OoC is not a major part of the story and it is explained later.

thoughts
.+++. <-time/scene skip
.xxx. <-perspective change

*****

Trunk hated waiting, he hated watching. Every time that he heard news of the androids, he was too late, every time the ki was disrupted, they were gone by the time he got there. More and more people were dying and he could do nothing about it! And all the while, there was something niggling in the back of his mind, it was as if it was on the tip of his tongue and he couldn’t identify it. The time machine was taking too long to charge!

Often, he also thought back to when he went into the past. Will his killing Frieza change things? Will he have screwed things over?

All Trunks knew that he could do was wait and see how it turned out.

.+++.

The androids were particularly sadistic today, Trunks noticed as ki after ki vanished. However, there was that niggling again, but Trunks didn’t pay attention to it. Instead, he concentrated on where the androids were. If he could calculate their next move, he might be able to prevent some deaths. It was almost like meditation, what Gohan taught him, what Piccolo taught Gohan. Often would his mother come out to check on him, and just as Trunks was honing in, something flared, that niggling sensation burst into life and it blew Trunks out of his state.

What was Gohan’s ki doing here!

Trunks snapped his eyes open and charged towards the mountain city that was currently under attack. Something wasn’t right here!

.xxx.

Gohan’s aura flowed about him as he stared at Seventeen. He was still fearful of his life, but hopefully he could be up to their standards. Gohan couldn’t – wouldn’t – die.

Seventeen, however, seemed disappointed. “Aw, none of that yellow stuff? Ah, well you’re just a brat. Well, let’s see how much you can withstand. Come on, I’ll give you the first shot.”

They were mocking him, they were underestimating him, but Gohan already knew that he couldn’t defeat them as he was now. He had to give it all though, unless he wanted to die. So he took the bait and sent a leg towards the android’s head.

The reaction was more instinctual than a defence. An arm shot up to take his kick easily. “Hmm…Not bad for a brat.” Seventeen said before his hand wrapped around Gohan’s ankle and flung Gohan into the rock he hid behind. “Let’s see how long you can amuse me before you become a ragdoll. If you can last, then I’ll keep that promise. But you better turn yellow the next time we meet, because playing with you is like playing with those humans all those years ago… fun for a few minutes, but quickly boring.”

Gohan pushed himself up. This is child’s play to him… I’m nothing compared to him… The boy thought. But I need to hold on… I need to live… I need to warn everybody. He charged at Seventeen again, this time disappearing before reappearing behind him and landing a blow at his lower back. Next, he swung around to the front and flew up, punching the mechanical person in the chin. His feet kicked, and then he was grabbed in mid-air before tossed off to a mountain side.

From wincing eyes, Gohan could see Seventeen cracking his neck.

“He packs quite a punch.” He said with a smirk. “It’ll be interesting to see what he can do in the future.”

“Why wait?” Eighteen said, deciding to comment again. “Isn’t it stupid to let the kid grow up and challenge us?”

Seventeen laughed. “It’s not as if he can get stronger than his father. You saw how easily I defeated him. Although, I guess it was unfair to take off his arm beforehand.”

Gohan glared at them, fisting his hands. Was this all a game to them? Killing people? Torturing them? Terrifying them? Something untapped appeared deep within him, like that time when he thought Frieza killed Krillin, when his henchmen killed the Nameks, when Nappa killed Piccolo, when his uncle hurt his dad. Energy appeared at his hands and he shot it at Seventeen. He charged at him, throwing kicks and punches wherever there was a body. More energy waves. How could somebody be so… so cruel!

Then he was plucked by his shirt. “Aww, did talking about your daddy make you mad Chibi Gohan?” Seventeen said with a sickly mocking tone. “But it does make you more powerful. How about I tell you how we ripped out his arm, scarred his body, how we killed him? Would that make you more fun to play with?”

Gohan was glaring at him, his breathing heavy from his recent exertion.

“Aw, isn’t he cute Eighteen? Look at that little glare, it’s as if he thinks he’s a threat to us.”

The girl turned her head. “I never get you sometimes Seventeen.”

Seventeen punched him in the stomach, and Gohan, even in the pain, knew that this wasn’t even half, perhaps even a quarter of his real strength. It was no wonder why everybody died fighting them. His vision began to darken around the edges.

No! I can’t! I need to warn! I need to! Gohan said as he forced his consciousness to regain itself. Just as it did, there was another blow to his stomach – this time a knee.

“Look at him, clinging on, trying to remain awake.” Seventeen said as he shook Gohan.

All Gohan could do was groan. There were more stars in his vision than in the sky. (He knew that wasn’t the case, but logic really didn’t play a huge role in his mind at the moment)

“You still awake kid?”

Gohan forced himself to blink and he winced and saw the man who killed his future self.

Seventeen was smirking maliciously again. “Heh, you’re pretty tough kid.”

“Seventeen, can you wrap it up? I’m getting bored watch you play with your boy toy.” Eighteen said and yawned.

The male android laughed. “Alright, alright sis. Guess it’s nighty-night for you brat. You got a passing grade. Have fun.” He said before kneeing Gohan in the stomach again. This time, to knock him out.

As Gohan’s world turned black he felt as if he were flying.

.xxx.

The time traveller landed down in the ruined city in the mountains. The damage was done, and there was no sign of the androids. “Fuck…” He cursed and wandered through the still-flaming city. He glanced from left to right, following the disaster. But, unlike the typical destructions, it moved sharply to the right, following a house that had been blasted through. Did they follow somebody they were playing with? Trunks thought and floated over the rubble.

He saw a man, kicked over on his side – as Eighteen tended to do once somebody died. There was damage here as well… the rock the dead man was reaching for had appeared as if somebody, or something, was smashed into it, and a circle of impact was blown into the mountainside. Were there more people here? Did the androids decide to vaporize them instead of leaving corpses for him to find? Yet, there was no sign of his mentor, no sign of where the androids flew off to. Nothing.

Was he being driven mad by these artificial humans? Were they pushing at his wits, making him hallucinate, making him imagine, making him hope? Trunks swore that he felt Gohan’s ki spike here, yet it couldn’t be. Gohan was dead, Gohan would have left more damage than a rock and a mountain side, Gohan would have went Super Saiyajin.

And Gohan would have been disappointed in him. He had failed humanity yet again, he let the androids go on a rampage, and he did nothing to stop them! He was always too late, always saw just the aftermath, the scared humans, the corpses littering the ground, and always failed.

“Damn it all!” Trunks yelled as he punched the rock, shattering it. Why did he have to be so weak? If only… if only Goku had still lived! If only his time had a miracle antidote from the future! Why did Piccolo have to go die? Why couldn’t he have had enough wisdom to stay away, to save his life for others! They would have had the dragon balls, would have had a chance! Then Gohan would have really been here again, instead of in the afterlife where he could do nothing but watch… watch as he failed over and over and over again.

“Agh!” He screamed in frustration, his ki sparking to its peak, his hair turning golden, his eyes gaining a green tinge, and he flew. Anywhere, anyplace. He just needed to be away from this massive destruction, the sorrow, the fear.

And he landed in a forest, where life seemed to go on as normal, where those creatures of lesser intelligence continued on obliviously.

Then Trunks laughed, it was dark, it was sardonic. The ant was fearful of those things bigger than it, and the chain continued. Humans were once at the top… but then came the androids. There was always something bigger, something badder out there, and humans had only just realized it. It shook them out of their comfortable life and it reverted them back to nature, fearing their predator.

Where would mankind be without the Saiyajins? Dead?

No… Goku was the start of this all. Without Goku, Dr. Gero would not have created the androids to defeat him, there would be no Raditz, no Vegeta, no Frieza… perhaps the world would have been run by the Red Ribbon Army…

But this was not the time for what-ifs. This was not the life with second chances, or even thirds. Trunks had one life, and he had to use it well. He could not die… even if it meant that he couldn’t meet Gohan until much later. Earth needed him… and even though he needed Gohan, he would have to do without. He had to deal with two enemies far stronger than he was. If only Gohan was here now… perhaps they could deal with the androids together.

“Damnit Gohan!” Trunks sobbed, his energy levels reverting to normal as he fell to the grass. “Why did you have to die…?”