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“Gohan.” Trunks stared at the faded picture of his old teacher and friend. “I miss you so much.” Bitter tears streamed down his cheeks. It had been years since he lost Gohan, but it still hurt. All the things left unsaid. The feelings left unresolved. It all ached within him, with no true release. “I’m so lonely.” Trunks sighed resting his head in his hands. “It’s so hard to keep going on. People are rebuilding and going on, but I can’t. I just can’t do it. If I move on…that’s like forgetting you. I could never forget you. Never.” Trunks vowed. “I…I love you Gohan, even now when there is no hope.” Choking back a sob, Trunks turned off the light beside his bed and settled down into the cold, empty bed to try and get some rest. Sleep was a long time in coming.

In a shadowy corner of the room, movement disturbed the darkness. A translucent form stepped forward and walked to the bed. “Trunks.” A thready voice sighed. “I’m so sorry I failed you.” The phantom form of Gohan sat down on the side of the bed. Trunks sighed in his sleep and moved closer to the transparent form. Smiling sadly, Gohan ran an insubstantial hand through Trunks’ long lavender hair.

“I thought I could save you. I thought I could save everybody. I didn’t want you getting hurt. I guess I hurt you anyway though.” Gohan said to the sleeping figure. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry that you’re alone now. I just…I wish I could come back to you” Gohan sighed dejectedly.

“What if you can?”

Gohan whirled around to face the person who suddenly spoke. Piccolo’s spiritual form was standing in the middle of the room. “Piccolo!” Gohan hissed. “Don’t do that! What are you doing here?” Gohan demanded of his friend.

“I’ve learned something that you might like to know.” Piccolo informed him.

“Can’t it wait?” Gohan asked looking back at Trunks.

“Perhaps, but I think you might like to know now.” Piccolo replied calmly.

“Okay, just get it over with,” Gohan sighed, resigned to the fact that Piccolo wouldn’t be leaving him alone any time soon.

“I have collected enough power to do something similar to Sheng Long.” Piccolo told him.

“Really? What?” Gohan asked, his mind running over the possibilities.

“I can perform a resurrection.”

“What?! Really?” Gohan yelled running up.

Piccolo nodded, noting the glimmering flame of hope in Gohan’s eyes.

“Oh wow! That’s great news. So who are you going to resurrect?” Gohan asked.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes Gohan, you will be resurrected.” Piccolo replied, hiding his smug grin at the inferno emotions that was running through his friend and former student.

“Why me?” Gohan asked in a hushed voice.

“You are the only one who has something to live for.”

“What? Any one of you could live again.” Gohan protested.

“But we don’t need to. Nor do we want to. We’ve adjusted to the new world we now inhabit. You are the only one who lives in the past. You are the only one who comes to earth every night. You are the only one who needs to live again.” Piccolo clarified.

“Piccolo…” Gohan whispered, looking between the Namek and the sleeping figure on the bed.

Piccolo could tell that he was torn, but knew that there was never any doubt. He reached out and put his hands on Gohan’s shoulders, both whole in his death. “Gohan, you will live again.”

Gohan opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out. He felt incredibly detached and there was a sharp tearing sound. Suddenly he was torn form the fabric of reality. He felt as if he was flying apart, his pieces spreading everywhere. Then just as suddenly, he was flying back together again. His pieces flew together and were fused into one whole by the weight of the universe pressing down on him. Gasping with the sudden need for oxygen Gohan fell heavily to the floor. His eyes stared up to where he knew Piccolo stood, but he could no longer see his Namekian friend.

On the bed Trunks jolted awake. Blinking he looked around. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room. “Who’s there?” Trunks demanded reaching for his sword.

“T-Trunks.” Gohan gasped.

Trunks froze. It sounded like Gohan…but that was impossible! He wanted to believe though. “Gohan?” Trunks whispered looking around, afraid of what he might see, or rather what he wouldn’t see. Surely he was simply going insane. The loneliness had gotten to him. But then he heard it again.

“Trunks.”

“Gohan! Where are you?” Trunks called out, his heart leaping with fear and joy.

“Down here.”

Trunks crawled to the edge of his bed and looked down. Squinting he saw a vague form sprawled in the middle of his floor. Stepping carefully out of bed, he crept over to the dark figure. “Gohan?” he choked, the thrill of hope and anticipation beating at him.

The sprawled figure stirred and sat up hesitantly. Using his saiyan vision Trunks stared through the gloom. Gohan’s perfect face stared back at him, flushed and pale but there. Hyperventilating, Trunks reached out a trembling hand, wishing with all his might that his hand would not pass through. It didn’t. Trunks’ fingers brushed against warm flesh. He recoiled, drawing his hand back to his chest and cradling it as if he’d been stung.

“Trunks?” Gohan asked, reaching out.

“You…you can’t be real.” Trunks said shaking his head back and forth in denial.

Gohan’s heart squeezed painfully. “You don’t want me here?” Gohan asked sadly.

“No! Yes I do!” Trunks cried out. “B-but….you can’t be real.”

Gohan crawled forward. He reached out and pulled Trunks’ hand to him. He placed the shaking hand over his swiftly beating heart, letting it feel the quick rhythm. “Is that real enough?” Gohan asked.

Trunks looked down at his hand, pressed against the warm flesh. His wide eyes traveled up to meet Gohan’s. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His eyes fluttered and he slumped forward against Gohan’s chest, in a dead faint.

“Trunks?” Gohan whispered, shaking the still form in his arms. When he didn’t respond Gohan sighed and collected the violet haired man in his arms. Standing on still shaky legs, he managed to get them both to the bed without injury. He carefully laid Trunks in the bed and sprawled his exhausted body beside him. Wrapping his arms around Trunks’ waist he drifted in and out of sleep wondering how Trunks would react later on, and how he would explain.

Trunks moaned softly and shifted closer to the warmth beside him. His mind suddenly came around and he shot up. “Gohan?!”

Strong arms pulled him back down on the bed. “Yes Trunks?”

Trunks looked at Gohan and let out a cry of pure joy. “Gohan! You’re alive! It wasn’t a dream!”

“The only kind of dream it was, was a dream come true,” Gohan replied as he pulled Trunks closer, pressing their lips together in their very first kiss. Trunks responded eagerly, not satisfied with just one kiss, he peppered Gohan’s face with countless breathless kisses. Laughing Gohan captured his face within his hands to stop Trunks’ frantic movements. “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I…are you really here?” Trunks asked in wonder, running his hands over Gohan’s chest.

“Yes Trunks.” Gohan nodded.

“To stay?”

“Always.”

Trunks burst into tears and hugged Gohan tightly. Surprised Gohan wrapped his arms around the suddenly sobbing young man.

“I’ve been so lonely Gohan.”

“I know.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“I…I love you Gohan.”

“I know Trunks. I love you too.”

Gohan kissed the top of Trunks’ head as they snuggled together. Trunks simply breathed in Gohan’s scent. He couldn’t hold back the tears that kept coming. He felt like such a child. He raised a hand and rubbed at the treasonous tears.

“Don’t cry Trunks,” Gohan whispered.

“I-I’m just so happy. You came back to me…for me.” Trunks sighed.

“So am I,” Gohan smiled as he rubbed their noses together affectionately.

Trunks yawned. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Always,” Gohan promised.

“Good night Gohan.”

“Good night Trunks, sweet dreams.”

“They will be,” Trunks murmured sleepily as he drifted off.

Hugging Trunks securely to his chest Gohan smiled a truly contented smile. “Thank you Piccolo…” Gohan murmured into the dark.

In his dark corner Piccolo smiled. “You’re welcome. Goodbye Gohan.”