Collide
After the death of his mother, Mirai(Future) Trunks seeks solace in the past. But after the time machine crashes, he finds himself in the wrong dimension of time, and wait…he has a twin?! Trunks/OC, Trunks/Pan, Goten/Bra
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z/GT
Lyrics to the song "Collide" written by Howie Day
Chapter 1: Out of the Back You Fall in Time
There it was…the time machine. It took Trunks six months to build, not counting the four months of planning prior. Unfortunately, he only had his brain to work from since he and his mother Bulma had destroyed all evidence of its building plans after returning from the Cell trial. But because her blood ran through his veins, he was able to put it together from memory.
Bulma…
Just thinking about his mother made his heart sink, and his stomach knot.
It was had been three years since her death, and after she had gone, he was utterly alone. The androids had destroyed too much. But since all those threats were now gone, he had nothing left. The pain of losing his friends and family, the destruction of his home still lingered in his soul, and that was why he wanted to go back. That was why he needed to go back. It would just be for a few days he reasoned. He would return shortly after he left the last time just to say hi to the Z team and his family. He just wanted to have a glimmer of joy. Oh what it would be like to smile again. He was tired of the depression and the loneliness. Deep down he knew it was a bad idea, but he fought that thought time and again, determined to go. It was selfish, thoughtless, and dangerous. That just fueled him more. He was tired of being useless. He needed to feel needed, to protect, to fight, to punch something in the face. It was his father's warrior blood that pushed his desire, and his mother's fighting spirit that helped him get here.
His eyes burned from the salt of sweat that dripped from his forehead. He wiped his face with the back of his arm and stepped from the machine to look at his masterpiece. He never thought he'd see it again. Just looking at it brought back memories.
He sighed, "I think it's done." His hands were black from the grease, so he grabbed his oil-stained towel and clenched the fabric, but never took his eyes off the the back of his mind he felt uneasy. Something was…missing?
He checked his work over again, but didn't see anything wrong.
Hmm, I am not one to forget things when it comes to building. It must be my apprehension for time travel.
Everything seemed to be fine, so he just continued and went to clean off and gather his things. He returned to the machine and opened the clear dome, situating himself comfortably inside. He looked down at the consul. Man, it's been awhile since I have used this. After a few moments he remembered what to do and pressed the correct buttons to place him in the right time so as not to make another rift in the time-space continuum.
I will stay only a couple of days or less. I am not sure what would happen if I stayed longer. When I come back to my time/dimension, I will destroy this again.His stomach was in knots. Why was he so nervous?
"Well here goes nothing." He pressed the final button. And he was off.
He always hated this part, never being sure if he was going to make it on the other side. This time, no one knew he left, and no one knew of his arrival, so if he died now, no one would ever know. He would simply vanish. What a depressing quickly brushed it aside and concentrated on his journey.
The machine seemed to be going fine, making the usual bumps and noises. Then, something started to happen. A loud beeping was coming from the consul.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The computer flashed warnings, lights, and sounds, telling him something was not right. Trunks frantically pressed buttons and pulled levers hoping to fix the problem. What was wrong? The warnings seemed to be getting louder, and faster. Bright flashes of light swished uncontrollably around him. Trunk's heart pounded in his chest, and sweat drenched his forehead.
His eyes darted every which way, not able to concentrate on one spot. He had to stop this. He had to stop this!
This is not good. I need to fix this! Stop! Stop! STOP!
…..blackness…
…
…
…
Trunks slowly opened his eyes as if from a deep sleep. His head was throbbing in pain, and he could smell the metallic scent of blood. "…ehh…what…happened?" The machine was stopped and silent. A slight hissing noise erupting from the console. He looked at the control board and saw a mess of wires and sparks, no longer useful.
"Dammit!"
He sat up, and he fiddled with the wires and buttons, ignoring the wetness of his blood that dripped down his forehead. He thumped his fist on the console in frustration.
"What am I going to do?" The smell of smoke began to permeate the tiny area.
Not good!
Trunks punched the glass dome covering to free himself from the fumes. He flew over to its side coughing to clear his lungs. Suddenly, he heard a small whistle sound. He strained his ear to hear it. "What's that noise?" Realization dawned on him and he flew desperately away from the machine.
BOOM!
His body thrashed against the rocky ground from the force of the blast, and his ears rang. He shook his now intensely throbbing head to clear his vision. He turned around and saw a smoldering, disintegrated pile of metal. Shock and terror resonated through his body like a tidal wave. This can't be happening, this can't be happening!
"THE MACHINE!" He quickly flew towards it to see if there were any remains.
All he could see were bits of metal, glass, and plastic. There was nothing left. He sank to his knees and looked at the floor, searching for answers in his mind. What could have happened? What did he forget? He slammed his fists in the ground creating earth-shattering craters in the dirt.
"Dammit!"
What was he going to do now? Where was he? Or really, when was he? For the first time he looked around at his surroundings. Dirt and land as far as he could see.
Thank goodness no one is around. I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, or be freaking out.
Yet it looked oddly familiar. Familiar is good. He looked in the distance and could see possible signs of a city. Hope. A new energy sprang forth within him. Hope. Getting up he peered again at the city making sure that it was not a mirage. He looked back at the machine to see if there was anything worth saving. Kicking at the dust that was left, he hung his head. "It's gone. I can't believe it's gone." He turned toward the city, clenched his fists, and took off flying in that direction.
As he neared the buildings, he recognized it. West City! It was the same, undestroyed West City of his past. But there were also differences he couldn't quite place.
But what did it matter? It was a city he recognized, and it wasn't obliterated.
When he arrived, he landed where no one would see him and ventured out onto the sidewalks. He watched the people bustling to and fro, living out normal human lives. His heart was relieved to know that there were no threats and that the people were at peace and naïve as always. Near him, he witnessed a woman standing in front of a shoe store and staring into the glass, eyeing every possible option.
He approached her, "Excuse me, but may I ask you a question?"
The woman turned to look at him. Her face immediately fell. He continued, "Could you tell me the date?" He tried to sound natural with his tone, but his eagerness and nerves were hard to suppress.
She shakily grabbed her newspaper from her bag and handed it to him, them immediately skidded away and disappeared into the shop.
What a strange reaction for her to have. She had looked at him like he was some alien. Well, he kind of was. Maybe it was all the sweat and blood that now emanated from him like a plague. He briefly sniffed his armpit. Man I need a shower.
He snapped out the newspaper, and unfolded it hastily to find the date at the top: Age 792. As he read it, his fingers gripped the paper tighter, causing it to crumple, and his heart pounded. This couldn't be the date! The date had to be wrong. It was the very same day he had just left. He wasn't in the past. It was his present. It was the same day! 3 years after his mother's death! Did he even leave? But this wasn't the same city that was still struggling to rebuild itself. What was going on?
His feet felt anchored in that spot as his mind began reeling from possible scenarios. This can't be good. He decided to walk down the street hoping to find answers.
In the distance he viewed a building towering above the others. On the top of the building he saw the familiar symbol of Capsule Corporation, the very same symbol embroidered on his now torn and very dirty jacket sleeve.
CAPSULE CROP!
There he would find some sort of answer. He walked quickly to the entrance of the building, eager to find out more. How he wished he could just soar over all this traffic and mess of people to get there, but didn't want to draw attention to himself. He was already getting some odd glances his way once in awhile.
His heart beat wildly in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, he felt excitement. Excitement at the possibility of seeing people he knew and loved, alive and well. To see… his mother.
A knot contorted in his throat as he felt the sting of oncoming tears and guilt.
Standing next to the skyscraper, it seemed much more daunting. He stood outside, slightly nervous at what he might find. Pushing the glass revolving doors, he stepped inside to a very large lobby with dozens of people moving quickly from here and there across the glistening marble floors. They were all dressed in business attire and chatting away on their phones. Upon the ground etched a large image of the CC logo of Capsule Corp. All the people were so preoccupied with their business that no one seemed to notice his presence.
One man bumped into him on accident.
He nervously bowed, and when he looked at Trunks' face he immediately began to shake, "My sincerest apologies Mr. Briefs!" and rushed off frightened. Trunks raised an eyebrow, "Odd. How does he know who I am?" Trunks felt it strange to have that reaction happen twice to him in one day, but shrugged it off.
He continued to walk toward the front desk, and stopped in front of a receptionist. She was a young lady, tall and slender. Her 'business attire' seemed to be a bit too small in areas and served to accentuate certain 'parts'. Her long nails clicked furiously on the keyboard as she typed, her face glued to the gave a polite cough in hopes of getting her attention, but she didn't listen.
He decided to speak up, "Ahem, excuse me, but could you help me?"
Silence.
"Hello?"
She didn't look up, but said in a rather annoyed tone, "Do you have an appointment? I can't help if you don't have an appointment. Who are you here to see and state your busine—" Finally, she looked up to see his face.
Seeing him, she sat up straight and seemed to be extremely shocked. Tints of red were illuminating her cheeks. "President Briefs! My apologies." She fixed her hair, and pressed her shirt, making sure nothing was out of place. She eyed him up and down in a way that made him uncomfortable.
She muttered, "I wasn't expecting to see you until later this evening. You told me you would be in a meeting until then, and to NOT let any visitors see you under any circumstances. Has your meeting changed?"
Ok, now things were officially becoming strange. When she didn't hear a response from him, she desperately tried to continue conversation.
"I-I-I like what you did with your hair. I see you let it grow out. Are…Are those new clothes?"
He was still hung up on the fact that she addressed him as President Briefs.
He inquired, "I'm sorry, but why did you call me President Briefs?"
"It is the title of your position sir, here at Capsule Corp. Why? Is there another title you wish us to call you sir?"
He shook his head and tried to answer a different question, "You said I was supposed to be in a meeting right now, where … was this meeting supposed to take place?"
She looked at him with a puzzled look and said, "You're office. On the top floor sir. That's where you usually have this meeting, but I do have to say that you have been meeting quite often with-"
"Thank you miss. You have been helpful."
Trunks needed to get out of there and figure out more to this continued mystery, and did not want to get stuck in a conversation with that woman.
"My office? President?" He shook his brain with confusion. He started to walk toward the elevators.
Hmm…I guess the only thing to do then is to go up there to get more answers. Or will it just lead me to more questions?
Trunks waited for the elevator and when the next one opened he walked in. He stood and looked at the numbers on the side. The top floor was restricted access only. Next to the button was a fingerprint encoding device. He placed his index finger on the pad and it responded in a pleasant female voice, "Welcome Mr. Briefs. Proceeding to the Penthouse office."
"Humph, would you look at that." He was more and more amazed by the turn of events. "Something must have happened when the time machine crashed...but what?"
His mind tried to piece together the possible reasons why the machine stopped in mid journey and ended up exploding. Finally he reached the top floor and the doors glided open. Lying before him was a large luxurious room with more than simple office necessities. Opposite him was a window that extended the entire width of the room.
He walked over to the window and looked down. He was amazed by the beautiful view of the city.
Peering through the glass, he silently observed people and buildings. He envied the people below. Never knowing the sorrow of seeing your city and home destroyed before you. His body shuddered at the haunting memories.
Distracted by the view, he failed to notice a soft strange sound. It was coming from another room in this already large space. He turned around and saw an adjoining room in the corner that he hadn't noticed before. The door was slightly ajar but he couldn't see inside. He inched slowly toward the door, and realized that the sound was actually muffled voices.
As he neared the room, the voices grew louder. It seemed to be….moaning and giggling. One was definitely distinguishable as a young woman's voice.
When he was almost to the room, he heard the girl's voice call out, "Oo…Trunks! That tickles."
Trunks?
His curiosity got the best of him and before he knew it, he was at the threshold of the room. He stood frozen in shock at the scene before him, and his felt blood rush to his cheeks. This very large office space looked like it was supposed to be used for paperwork and signing documents, but rather it was being used as something different.
There, on the desk was a man and a woman in a loving embrace with the woman's shirt top curiously askew.
He knew he needed to exit right away for causing an embarrassing invasion of privacy and made the effort to leave when he caught sight of something extremely strange in the man's face.
Before he could linger on the thought, the couple immediately sensed his presence and forcefully jumped from one another.
Both the man and the woman were panting heavily. The woman who was now facing him, stood in shock, the color drained from her face. She didn't look embarrassed like she would be expected, but rather confused and scared. She clutched at her chest, her breath and heart racing a mile a minute. Her sleek black hair went to her shoulders, and he could tell by the muscles on her body that she was quite a fighter.
There was something about her deep eyes that caught Trunks off guard. They looked oddly...familiar.
The man next to her spun on his heels of face the intruder, his aura whipping with anger and strength. An aura of a skilled fighter. Too skilled.
As he spun he yelled, "What in the hell do you think you're d-"
Trunks knew why the man ceased his yelling, because for the first time he could see this man's face clearly. And what he saw was his own face staring back at him.
END Ch.1