Chapter 2: Doubt

Thank you so much for the reviews/story alerts, etc! I really appreciate it, and it keeps me inspired to keep going. :D

I already started doing this in the first chapter, but Future Trunks, I'm just going to leave as Mirai (future in Japanese), and Trunks is Trunks. I am going to keep letting Trunks call Mirai (O)niisan, because it just sounds less awkward than "Big brother," but more personal than calling him by his actual name.

Anyway, please R&R! Enjoy!

"Trunks! Trunks, are you still in bed? Come on down here!" His mom's shrill voice yelled up the stairs, jolting the demi-saiyan from his nice, comfortable sleep.

"I'll be there in a sec, mom!" He yelled back down the stairs before stretching and rolling off the bed. If it had been a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have even deigned to answer his mother, but he'd been feeling lighter-and so much happier-since he'd started to develop a relationship with his future counterpart.

Trunks smiled as he remembered Mirai telling him how his mom used to scream outside of his bedroom door for 5 minutes straight until his already overly-sensitive Saiyan hearing couldn't take it any longer.

He smiled, thinking about how his mom would treat him the same way no matter what were to happen in the world-torn to shreds by evil androids or not. He and Mirai on the other hand, he had come to realize, really were quite different.

First of all, the stories they'd share. He's tell his older brother about the newest prank he and Goten had managed to pull on Vegeta- "accidentally" putting his mom's brightest hot pink blouses into the washing machine with his father's white socks and muscle shirts… which earned him a particularly grueling few hours in 500XG in Vegeta's trusty GR, or, as Trunks like to think of it, the torture chamber. Mirai would always laugh appreciatively when Trunks told him these stories, but then he would tell the boy about his day-and Trunks couldn't help feeling slightly humiliated at the contrast. For practically his whole life, Mirai had been fighting for the people of his world-training to bring about peace. But now, peace had been around for a good ten years, and the man was still working tirelessly for them, whether helping in reconstruction efforts, crime-fighting…Mirai seemed to be playing to role of superman, Trunks couldn't help thinking, a smile tugging at his cheeks.

Wow. My brother's superman! He quickly stuffed away the babyish thought, but he felt his chest swelling up with pride. Feelings of jealousy or uselessness when hearing about Mirai's acts of heroism weren't as strong as he might have expected, because this was, after all, his brother. After all, Goten's brother tried a little superhero thing, but he always wore that embarrassing outfit, made those weird poses, and cheesy speeches! Gosh Gohan! Trunks covered his face in shame at the memory. Mirai would never be so un-cool, he was sure of it.

"TRUNKS! I called you like 15 minutes ago! What are you doing?" His mom's voice rang back up the stairs, making the boy jump, before quickly pulling some clothes on and flying down the banister and into the kitchen.

"Man, mom. What's the deal? Do we have like some big plans today?" Trunks said as he slowed his pace and walked nonchalantly into the kitchen to sit himself next to a stack of blueberry pancakes that resembled (in height) the pile of bricks Satan-san had so impressively almost cut down before "fighting" cell.

"I just wanted us to sit down and eat breakfast as a FAMILY for once!" Bulma glared over at Vegeta, who smirked back, not slowing his attack on his own quickly-shrinking tower of pancakes. Vegeta's manners were surprisingly good when he ate, considering that he practically swallowed a plate-sized pancake with each bite. At least he used silverware, and everything went INTO his mouth on the first try-something which can not be said about his fellow full-blooded Saiyan.

"Haha, what do you mean, mom?" Trunks asked innocently.

"Well, Mr. Prince of all Saiyans, here, practically lives in the GR, and you've been shut up in your room so often, recently, that, well…" Her voice softened when she started to address her son on this point. Honestly, when he'd told her that he'd started talking to Mirai Trunks, she was thrilled. After all, she'd always been worried that the boy would resent his super-heroic alter-ego. However, though they'd tried, only Trunks and Mirai could communicate that way. The link didn't open to Bulma or to Vegeta (who only tried under GREAT pressure from his mate). Eventually, Bulma had to admit, she had started to get worried about her son.

He couldn't just be imagining it, could he? Is he that lonely? Well, we have been kind of ignoring him recently… It was this that brought Bulma to the decision that she and Vegeta needed to start spending more time with their pre-teen.

"Okay, team! I have a great idea! Why don't we go to the beach?"

Trunks and Vegeta glanced at each other, wearing identical confused looks. What was up with her today? She sounded a little manic.

"You know I have training to do, Woman." Vegeta said it with a finality he was sure was indisputable. Bulma begged to differ.

"You, Vegeta, train EVERY DAMN DAY. How about taking a little time out for your SON once in a while, huh?" He glared accusingly at him, and Trunks started to feel a little awkward, like he'd been pushed in the middle of an argument, which, he realized, he had been.

"Uh, Mom, no, it's okay. I could just go and train with dad for a bit or something…"

"No, that's just going to give him an excuse. We are going somewhere as a family-all three of us-and when we get home, yes, Trunks, you can train with your father."

"Oh, but mom…I normally talk to Niisan around 4, so…"

A nerve in Bulma's temple bulged. She couldn't help it. Since she couldn't see or hear Mirai, it just seemed that for nearly a month, her son had been spending hours in his room, talking to a sword! Did that seem totally healthy?

"Trunks, sweetie…look, maybe you and Mirai shouldn't spend quite so much time together, you know? He has his life, you have yours. Why don't you spend time with your family that's here, and maybe you wouldn't need to talk to him so much. What do you think, honey?" Bulma thought she'd been pretty subtle, without giving away her true concerns. She wasn't as right as she thought, however.

Trunks felt an icy sensation run down his spine as he listened to his mother's words. Even worse than her words, was her tone. She was speaking calmly and gently-too gently. Like he was a mental patient who needed to be treated as if he were breakable. When he responded, his voice was lower, harsher: "Maybe if you guys had spent time with me before, I wouldn't have started feeling depressed in the first place, but why should I cut off my relationship with him now? How does that make any sense? He listens to me-he's there for me. What do you know?" The anger he hadn't realized was there rose so quickly he wasn't sure what to do, but he just started glaring at his mom across the table.

Noticing his son's suddenly spiking ki more than his words or tone, Vegeta began to stand up to do something to defuse the situation. [Yep, Vegeta has changed after all :) ]

"Trunks. Your mother doesn't mean for you to cut off your relationship with my future son. She just thinks that the amount of time you spend talking to him is detracting from your life in the real world. And I must say, I agree with her."

Trunks felt his anger slightly dissipate as he listened to his father's reasoning. Yeah, he hadn't said anything nice, but at least he was being upfront…but then he thought over the word choice he'd used… "Real world? What are you trying to say, that Niichan isn't real?" He looked back-and-forth between his parents. "That's right, isn't it? You think I'm hearing things. You don't believe me that he's really talking with me!"

"No, sweetie, it's just…well, I mean, look. It's just a little hard to understand, because he's in a completely different universe! Remember, I tried to do research on the sword, but you didn't want me to because you were worried it would mess up the link?"

"Well yeah, so you haven't done research on it, so you don't have any reason to assume I'm lying. Why would I, for fuck sakes?"

"Well, Trunks, sweetie, it wouldn't be something you'd mean to lie about, I mean, even if he weren't actually talking through the sword to you, he still is part of you, you know? You guys are the same terrific guy! So, it's almost like you're hearing him like a different person!" Bulma tried, but realized she was making it worse and worse…but she didn't know what to do about it-she had suddenly becoming convinced that her son really was hearing and seeing things, and if he couldn't face the truth, how could he heal?

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Trunks began screaming, powering up. He couldn't believe it. His own parents thought he was crazy. Why couldn't they trust him? As if crazier things than this hadn't happened a million times to them! He felt a ball of solid hatred forming in his chest and moving up-he suddenly had to hurl.

Racing up the stairs, he ran to the toilet and threw up. He felt like he was ejecting a poison that had started to course through his body. He kept throwing up, and began to cry as his hair flopped on either side of his face, still leaning over the toilet.

Rocking back on the balls of his feet, he leaned against the bathroom wall, shakily. What was going on? Why had things taken a turn like this? When he had first told them that he'd been able to contact Mirai Trunks, his parents had been so happy. His mom started crying, and his dad…well, he didn't really show happiness all that well, but he smiled slightly before turning his head from his son, which was practically a cheer of joy coming from him. Then they'd tried to speak to him a few days later, and his mom had been really disappointed that she wasn't able to…

But to think that she'd believe he was just imagining it all. Most terrifying was that…did he really have proof? How could he know for sure? What if he was crazy? If the loneliness and his own selfish desire for a brother had driven him over the edge?

"Trunks? Trunks?" His mother's concerned voice sounded into the bathroom. Trunks didn't look up, but responded in a cold, hard voice that he hardly recognized. "I want to be alone, mom."

"Sweetie, I-I'm sorry. I just…I've been worried about you, because you've basically only been talking about-about Mirai, and, well…we love him, too, so we want to hear about him, but…" She sighed, and slipped down the wall she was leaning against to sit down and face her son. She had to do this right. She understood that she'd hurt her son-maybe even deeply hurt him.

"Look Trunks, I'm the one in the wrong. I was probably just being selfish, because I got my hopes up so much that I'd be able to talk to him, too, and it's just been going on for a while, now-you talking to him, and us not being able to communicate with either one of you, really…Listen Trunks." She stared at him intently, and he finally returned her gaze. "I love you, and I believe you, okay? I am really, really sorry for letting my own doubts get the best of me. Can you forgive me?"

For a while, Trunks stared back at the tile floor, letting her words wash over him. Finally, he nodded, and started to stand up. He was still shaky, but at least he didn't feel as crazy anymore. Bulma walked over and gave Trunks a little hug. "That's my strong young man."

Trunks didn't say anything for a while. "You know, mom, he said he was going to visit when his time machine finished charging up. It should be almost ready. Just wait till then, and then you'll have proof." He looked at her in the eye, his eyes flashing with determination.

Bulma stepped back and looked at him a little anxiously. The way he said it, it was like a declaration of battle. He was really determined to prove this wasn't a dream. And he was saying it greatly for himself. He could not have imagined all of this-that the person he'd been communicating with recently was really just a figment of his imagination-this person he'd grown so close to, so quickly…no, that just couldn't be right. He wouldn't let it be.

"I'm fine, now, mom. Thanks for coming up to talk, though. I'm kind of tired now, so I'll be down later, okay?"

"Okay, Trunks. Oh, and, when you talk to Mirai, tell him…we're looking forward to seeing him." With another smile at her son, Bulma left his room, closing the door behind him. Great, Bulma. Just fantastic. Way to go trying arrange a family bonding day. This must have been the biggest failure of my life! Why did I have to go and say all of that?

As she walked down the stairs, she couldn't keep her mind away from the lonely and lost look on her son's face. He'd really bonded to Mirai-or who he thought was Mirai-no! I need to stop thinking that way! I said I was going to try to believe him! And I practically killed him when I suggested he was imagining things. Deciding to leave him alone, planning to check on him a little later, Bulma went to while away her worries in her lab.

Back in his room, Trunks was crouching on his bed, letting his thoughts whirl around. Damn it, why am I letting this get to me so much? But he knew the answer. His parents had hit on the one fear which had been paralyzing him the entire month. He had become extremely attached to his "brother." That was one reason why he insisted on speaking to him so regularly. He had to continually confirm to himself that this was not a dream.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar clinking noise. Whenever Mirai tried to contact him, the sword shook a little, making the sword jingle a bit in its sheath. Trunks had had to make sure it was positioned steadily so it wouldn't fall down and make an awful noise (as it had done too many times for his ears' well-being).

Frantically, the boy ran over and grabbed the sword, unsheathing it in one motion before eagerly springing up on the bed to stare at his counterpart.

"Trunks! Hey, kiddo, how's it going?" Mirai smiled up at him, his hair tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck.

"Niisan! Am I glad to see you…" Trunks began.

"Is everything okay? You don't sound like yourself."

"Well, I had a little…argument with mom. It's okay, nothing serious. I just…I'm glad to see you. To hear your voice. What did you do today?"

"Oh, man, that's rough…" Mirai could tell there was more to the fight than Trunks was letting on, but he decided to let it slide for the time being, continuing on to the second part of the question. "Let's see…my day… well, I woke up to a kid crying down the block because her kitten was stuck up in a tree. I'll tell you, Saiyan hearing can be very useful sometimes, but it can also really hurt!" Mirai made a mock pained face which made Trunks laugh.

"So you saved the kitty? So rather than firemen saving cats from trees, we have a super saiyan doing the job. That's great. I bet the kid was thrilled."

"Yeah, she was…then, let's see…not too much else, I guess. I stopped a few bank robberies, and a bus that was driving off a cliff…you know, the usual…"

"Man, niisan, when you get here, you and Gohan are going to have fun together playing superhero!"

"What? Gohan's a superhero?" Mirai looked at Trunks, bemused.

"Haha-it's when he started going to high school. He couldn't help but stop the criminals and bad things going on in town, but he didn't want to other kids at school to know he was behind it all, so mom made him this STUPID outfit. Anyway, he started calling himself 'Great Saiyaman' and would make these weird speeches and dances and…oh god…shoot me if I have to see that again."

The melodramatic end of Trunks's complaining speal was drowned in Mirai's laughter. "That's awesome! Haha, man, well, I'm glad Gohan of this time's been able to stay so happy-go-lucky." He smiled genuinely, but Trunks could tell he wasn't just looking at him. He was lost in the past.

"So, the Gohan you know-your teacher and older brother, what was he like?"

"Hm, well, Trunks, that isn't something I can answer fully at one time. He was very complicated person, and a very good person. Remember, though, that the androids killed almost everyone he loved when he was about 10 years old. After that, he had to grow up instantly-although, from what he told me, he's already had to grow up pretty quickly. He was kidnapped when he was four, and thenPiccolo left him to survive in the wild for six months before going off to fight Freeza on Namek. Really, Gohan has had a crazy life. The fact that he managed to become such a great man-in my time, and in yours, too, really says something, huh?" Mirai was looking on, full of pride for his best friend.

"Yeah, wow, I never thought about it that way. Goten and I have really had it easy. Both you and Gohan have had such a hard time, but we…No wonder you guys were so close." Trunks smiled at him, but Mirai could see the strain, and he thought he had a pretty good idea of the reason.

"Now hold up, Trunks. Don't get some crazy ideas about us not being able to ever be as close as Gohan and I were because our experiences were more similar. Now, yeah, of course that kind of thing creates an incredible bond, but our relationship is different. Gohan and I had an unbreakable bond. So do you and I, and it's still developing. We've only known each other for a short time, yet you are irreplaceable in my life. Just like Gohan. It's not something I can compare-the relationships we have with the people we truly love never can be compared. We just have to treasure each separately."

"Oniisan…thank you. Hey, by the way…you're coming, aren't you? Soon?"

"That's actually the main thing I wanted to tell you! My time machine has fully charged, so I'm ready to go! Would tomorrow afternoon be too soon? I could do the day after tomorrow…"

"No, no! Tomorrow's great! Oh my god, I can't believe it! Oniisan, you're really coming! You have to stay for a while, okay?'

"I can't make any promises, but I'll try to."

"Great…that'll show mom and dad."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, well…the fight we had today, it's…well, since mom and dad weren't able to hear your voice, and I've been spending so much time speaking to you this month, they kind of started to …worry about me…"

Mirai thought he could see where this was going… "So basically, they figured that I was just a figment of your imagination? That you've been spending all this time up here talking to a sword?"

Trunks nodded, not meeting Mirai's eyes.

"Haha, that does sound kind of weird, though, you have to admit!" His laughter was contagious enough that even Trunks chuckled a bit, but then turned serious again.

"But it really got to me, because I am the only one who can see and hear you, and I don't have any physical proof, so I started to think…what if they're right? What if I really did imagine you? What if you're not coming tomorrow? What will I do?"

Mirai's laughter stopped instantly, and he tried to reach out for the boy before remembering that they couldn't physically touch. "Trunks. I'm here. I'm real. Sometimes there are things in life that you can't prove, you just have to believe in them. You already know that I'm not some character you made up-mom and dad DO know me after all, so how could you have constructed someone who so perfectly mimics a real person you only met when you were a baby? No. Don't worry, little brother. I'm here for you. And I'll be there tomorrow. Expect me at noon. Got it?"

"Got it." The two lavender-haired young men held each other's gaze for a few seconds before smiling again.

"Now why don't you go downstairs and make up with mom and dad. They were just honestly worried about you, after all, and there's no basis for the worry. Okay?"

Trunks nodded, feeling like a lead weight had been sitting on his chest but was quickly dissolving into thin air. "Got it, oniisan. We'll be waiting for you. You know the place!"

Mirai winked back. "Well, then, bro. Later." And with that the sword returned to normal.