Authors Note: As always, DBZ is NOT owned by me, and all copyrights are the property of their respective owners. Enjoy!
Trunks stood outside of his time-traveling machine, mystified and queasy. He had powered its systems numerous times since Cells death, and each time it had failed without hesitation or explanation. Now, he was with it in a Capsule Corp. machine shop, near where his mother's past self lived. There was a quiet whooshing sound as the door automatically opened, and a young Gohan stepped through, making his way to where Trunks was standing.
"Hey, Trunks?" the young Gohan, still not far recovered from the final fight with Cell, queried while Bulma, on the other side of the machine, rummaged through some of the machine's electrical workings on the other side. "Wow, still working on it, huh? You think you know what's wrong with it?"
The older half-Saiyan sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I wish I did, really." He motioned to his mother – well, the younger version of her, anyway. "Me and her have both gone over it a dozen times. It should be working – it should have worked, period."
Gohan glanced over at Bulma, who nodded momentarily before replacing the panel that covered the electronics she had been checking over. "Despite having to take a speed-learning course with Professor Trunks here, I think I can say with certainty that he's right," she said as she stepped over towards the two, "it should be working just fine."
Gohan looked at the machine proper this time, as he had when Trunks had first shown up years ago. "So that means you can't go back to your own time, right?"
Trunks bowed his head for a moment, clenching his fists. "I'll find a way; I have to. The Androids in my time still need to be stopped."
Bulma cocked her head to the side, thinking. "You know, Trunks...maybe when you came back this time, you changed the flow of time so drastically...maybe you've changed that time line, or maybe even erased it from the multiverse..."
He shook his head, frowning. "Mom, if I'd done that, I'd have started a paradox: in order for me to continue existing here in this timeline, my timeline would need to exist. If it no longer exists, then neither should I...which means I would've never traveled back, thus preventing me from accidentally causing its erasure...which would only mean I'd exist again!" He sighed and growled as he glared at his machine. "I can't exist if my timeline doesn't, which means that it does. And I NEED to get back."
Gohan rubbed his head gently. "Okay, you kinda lost me at the paradox part, and now I have a headache. If you two need anything, just let us know; otherwise, my Mom really wants me home in time to study."
Bulma happily acknowledged his offer, and waved as he left for the Son Goku household. Behind her, Trunks was still facing his time machine, anger broiling just under the surface. She turned and saw him, reading his body language as if it were Vegeta's – fitting enough, given that he was their son. She quietly walked over and placed her hand on his shoulder, causing him to jerk for a moment in surprise.
"Listen, Trunks," Bulma said quietly, "I know you want to go back home, and I promise you we'll find a way...but, for now, my dad has several guest houses here in the city, near the Capsule Corp. premises. Go ahead and get your things to make yourself comfortable, I can get you the key..."
He shook his head, bowing it again. "Don't worry about it – I can sleep in the machine, so I don't take up any space..."
Bulma crossed her arms and tilted her head down, letting her voice go a little louder than usual. "No, sir, you won't. Future or no, I won't let a son of mine sleep in a chair when he can sleep comfortably in a properly-furnished guest bedroom. Now," she said as she pointed at the door, "please get your stuff and go to the lobby, and I'll get a key for a guest house."
Trunks eyes widened, and the discipline instilled by her future self quickly reared its head in him. "Yes, ma'am!" he said as he grabbed his bags, taking only moments before bounding out of the shop door towards the lobby. Bulma giggled quietly to herself before following him out.
/
First it was weeks; denial turned to melancholy as the 'Future' Trunks continued to hit wall after wall, his machine refusing every attempt to return to his own timeline. Then it became anger in the following months, wherein sleep became elusive even as he spent more and more time tinkering with the machine that had become the source of a new-found hate.
Gohan had helped some, at least. He wasn't much for training, thanks to Chi-Chi, but he did routinely spar with the older Trunks just to help the latter ease his mind; Trunks knew that the fact Goku would've approved of the 'training' probably motivated his growing son further, though. Trunks was secretly glad for the time they'd shared, as Gohan was the one of the few who could fight him as an equal without being...overbearing about it. He'd even sparred with Gohan while the latter was in the Super Saiyan '2' form, which clearly outclassed anything he'd seen before; the fact such a form existed had brought him hope that he could attain it himself, and use it to end the Android threat in his own timeline.
While Trunks had tried to strengthen the small bond he had with his father, Vegeta, in the time since Cells defeat, he'd found his fathers training regimen to be far too extreme for him. Vegeta first loudly chastised him, then just glowered as Trunks left, clearly disappointed at how Trunks seemed to lack the typical Saiyan desire for strength and power. He knew his father cared for him in his own way, though; his father was disciplined, dedicated to keeping his body in top physical condition, and by showing his desire for Trunks to share in that vision, he inadvertently revealed he at least cared in some way about 'the boy' himself.
Right now, though, Trunks found himself sitting on a nameless ridge in a nameless section of forest, where a massive, rolling collection of green plains spread out in front of him. His clothing was dirty, and his body wasn't exactly clean either; he'd spent the last couple of days away from everything the last few months had thrown at him, and although there was a light air of refreshment about him, his distress was still quite obvious. Despite having actually slept out here in the wilderness, dark lines ran deeply under his eyes, and his mind continued to fare poorly in the act of processing his frustrating 'new life' in this timeline.
Even though it wasn't that hot, sweat ran down his face as his emotions boiled within him. He felt guilty about every enjoyable moment he'd had since his resurrection; here he was, getting to see the world of non-apocolyptia, enjoying it's sweetness and splendor while his own world, the antithesis of this one, continued to wait for him to return and save it. He knew that, once he found out what was wrong with his hateful machine, he could return to the exact moment after he left, but that wasn't what bothered him. No, what bothered him was that he could feel time ticking off his life every moment he remained here in this place, and the idea that one day he'd simply be too old to do any good, any at all, scared the hell out of him. With every breath he took, he wondered just how close 'his' world was coming to its death.
He was interrupted by a slight tug to the right of his mind, almost like an annoying pinch on his temple. It was subtle, but measurable enough to identify the specific person who was causing it; Krillin was nearby, moving slowly towards him. In the distance, he could hear him yelling out his name, as if he was looking for him intentionally. Collecting this thoughts, Trunks sighed, not really in a mood for company; nevertheless, he allowed his ki to flow farther out than usual so that Krillin could sense where he was.
It only took half a minute for Krillin to drop down from the skies, landing with a hearty thud. The short, usually-cheery human was wearing normal clothes for once; sandals, swimming trunks, and a sleeveless t-shirt that sported the Capsule Corp logo. "There you are!" he said as he looked over the ragged look Trunks was sporting. "Bulma's been pestering everybody this morning to go looking for you; she said she hadn't seen you in a couple of days, and she's kinda worried about you."
Trunks just blinked, then shrugged. "Well, you found me. Guess you can go tell her I'm okay. Don't know when I'll head back, though."
Krillin frowned. "I hate to be Operative Obvious here, but you don't look all that well. I'm not a genius, but I know not being able to get back home's gotta be-"
"I'm fine!" Trunks yelled, causing Krillin to take a step back.
Krillin looked like he was about to argue, but a more feminine voice cut through from above the forest. "Krillin!" the woman yelled, "I take it you've found the kid?"
Trunks blood chilled as he took a step back; even as Krillin replied positively to the airborne voice, memories of his own timeline snaked their way around his brain, coiling into a paralyzing grip as an all-too-familiar form dropped down from the sky.
18 was dressed similarly to Krillin, as he'd invited her to a beach outing before Bulma had recruited them to look for Trunks. She was wearing a one-piece bathing suite under a long, peach-colored t-shirt that loosely held to her body, with a pair of matching-colored sandals to complete the outfit. She landed with far more grace than Krillin had, and took a moment to absentmindedly flick her hair out of her eyes before taking a good look at Trunks. "Hey there," she said simply.
The cold chill in his blood was quickly replaced with a boiling heat, and he gave her a good Saiyan death-glare as he bared his teeth. "Krillin," he said with a hiss, "why is she still alive!?"
Krillin had forgotten that everybody had been avoiding the topic of the still-living Androids in this timeline, not wanting to upset the future Trunks further. He took a step back as he realized the gravity of the situation. "Uh, well...after Cell was killed, we wished everyone back, and got the bombs in them removed...and I don't think 18 plans on blowing anything up anytime soon..."
18 chuckled, unaware and oblivious to the problem. "Never really was all that into blowing things up; it was fun, but -"
"SHUT UP!" Trunks yelled with a burst of energy, his hair now floating freely in the air as his ki skyrocketed. In his rage, he saw nothing of the 18 who was in front of him; instead he only saw the 18 of his nightmares, and the Saiyan blood in him demanded that he tear her apart with his bare hands.
"Wow," 18 said, frowning as she crossed her arms. "That was rude."
"You know what!? I don't care!" Trunks yelled back. "You and your brother destroyed my Earth, in MY time; and because you're just the same as they are, you deserve no less than they do!" His ki continued to rise, shaking the earth beneath their feet. "Maybe I'm stuck here for good, and maybe I'll never get back home to kill you and 17 in my timeline." He clenched his fists and entered a charging stance, preparing himself. "But maybe, just maybe...killing you two here will do just fine!" He roared in rage, a golden aura flowing out and around him as his hair went gold itself, and his eyes shifted to a bright blue.
Before 18 had a chance to react, let alone get into a fighting stance, he leaped through the air, charging at her with a furious growl.