A/N: Chapter 6. R&R!

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Chapter 6: Return

Two weeks had passed, and Bulma had completely abandoned her work on the time machine to instead clean up the house and prepare for Trunks's homecoming. There was no need for her to do any more work on either time machines. One was completely functional and clearly wasn't broken after all. Her efforts were better placed doing motherly things for her son, something he probably had precious little of in his past. She knew, prior to his return, her own Trunks had the same problem.

18 kept well out of her way, though she was beginning to feel that Bulma was doing certain things on purpose. She would call 18 into the room to ask if a portrait was hanging alright, and that portrait would almost always be of Trunks. Well, her Trunks. She would also call 18 to hand her things that she deemed too heavy, one of which was a box with old family pictures. Conveniently the album was wide open, on top of the box, with pictures of Trunks as a baby. While she knew what Bulma was trying to do, and that she meant well, it didn't matter to 18. No matter what the truth was, that being that this Trunks was here to stay, she refused to accept. She believed it, of course, but that didn't mean she had to like and accept it. That man wasn't the one who had stood his ground against impossible odds just so that she could live on.

The thought occurred to her that they were, now, both in similar roles. He had a hard time accepting her for who she was because of the time in which he originated. That Android 18 was a mass murdered, and had killed everyone he ever loved—save his mother. Now she was here, and that Android 18 never existed in the first place. With Trunks's arrival, he crushed her memories of the boy from three years ago just as easily as he snuffed out her brother's life. She would never forgive him, just as he could never forgive the other 18. Both that 18 and her Trunks were gone for good and the thought that she would never get to see his smiling face as he looked over his laptop to her hurt. It hurt more than when she lost him to begin with. She would never get to have him chasing her around the building with grease on his fingers, teasing her as she would him.

Despite her valiant efforts to try and put the past behind her, she found herself in her room—Trunks's old room—looking at the picture on his bed stand. He was...such a dork, but she liked that about him. He didn't try to impress her, his jokes were lame, but he had a good heart. He was simply...Trunks. This other man didn't say much. When he did he was blunt. He was violent, as far as she could tell, and like all Saiyans he enjoyed fighting. He actually though coming to blows with her would magically make them understand one another? Scoffing she set the picture back down on the night stand roughly. The glass cracked from the force and she immediately regretted it, causing her to gingerly pick it back up. She ran her nails over the crack, as if trying to wipe it away. Why did things have to turn out like this?

"King Kai sure has been gone a long time," Trunks commented as he and Goku walked towards the house. He was winded from their last training session. He had gotten stronger in the past, he knew this, but Goku had progressed so much from his death that he was even stronger than the Gohan that beat Cell. Trunks could barely keep up, but he was grateful for the practice. While he truly hoped, in his heart of hearts, that the fighting was over for him it still couldn't hurt to keep in practice. If what his mother had said, and that the time line was trying to correct itself, than who know what else could be in store for him. Rather safe than sorry, after all.

"Hm? Has it been that long," Goku commented. "I've completely lost track of time since we started training!" He laughed at this and Trunks couldn't help but grin. Reaching the house, another gust of wind rushed the planet and both warriors turned to look at the source. King Kai had arrived, along with another person that made Trunks halt his movements. Next to King Kai stood Android 17, looking around with his thumbs in his pocket. He gave a whistle.

"Man, being a Kai nets you your own planet," he asked. He stomped the ground lightly. "Pretty solid, too."

"W-what," Trunks began but Goku placed his hand on his shoulder, causing the lavender haired youth to look at him.

"I asked King Kai to go and talk to King Yemma before you got here. I wanted you to see for yourself, Trunks," Goku stated.

"But, he shouldn't be here," Trunks mumbled.

"No, the 17 from your old life shouldn't be here. This 17 did nothing wrong. In fact, he was in line to go to heaven. I just called in a favor for him to get to keep his body and come here," Goku stated.

Trunks sighed.

"Keep an open mind, Trunks. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? You're technically dead, right?" Goku laughed at this and Trunks found himself sinking into the collar of his jacket. He didn't need reminding. Still, if Goku insisted it was fine, than he supposed he had no right to believe otherwise. After all, if what he said was true, this 17 was going to heaven. He had done nothing wrong, or at least terribly so, in his life. Which, from what he had gathered from his mother's story was grow up, get turned into an android, be put to sleep than ate by Cell. It made Trunks's stomach sink to realize that he had killed this person, which meant that by all rights he shouldn't be here. Still, it was best to not argue semantics.

King Kai brought the android over, giving Goku a nod before Goku smiled a large, full one. "Thanks, King Kai!" He turned his attention to 17. "Heya!"

"I know you, you're Goku," 17 said, placing his hands on his hips. "I was made to kill you, you know."

Trunks felt his muscles go rigid.

"Yeah, I know," Goku replied, laughing slightly. "It's a shame we never got the chance to fight when we were alive."

17 stared at him for a moment before he waved him off. "Nah, not interested. I don't really feel like fighting anybody right now. Is there anything fun to do here?"

Goku pouted. "But fighting is fun..."

"Maybe for Saiyans. And who's this kid? Trying to copy me with your hair? Nice try, man, but I wear long hair better," 17 said.

Trunks blinked. This guy was...nothing like 17. Well, he was, in a way. Where as 17 seemed to have a penchant for just killing people because it was fun, this guy didn't even want to fight. Still, if he was anything like 17...

"Er. Trunks. My name is Trunks," Trunks said, sticking his hand out tentatively. 17 eyed it for a moment with a blank face. Trunks feared that something had caused him to remember him, maybe the time line had brought the wrong 17 here. Instead, the black haired young man grinned and took his hand.

"That's a pretty lame name, but I guess I shouldn't judge. 17," he replied, shaking Trunks's hand firmly. It wasn't meant as a competition, but Trunks had to try. He squeezed firmly and 17's eyes raised to his own. The smirk remained, and Trunks saw not malice but perhaps...friendly competition? Mischievousness? 17 squeezed back. Finally, Goku spoke as the two kept tightening their grips.

"Well, 17! You should come inside, we were just about to eat! Though there's getting to be a lot of people here...we may have to move the meals outside," Goku exclaimed.

17 and Trunks released hands and 17 gave a small 'hmph'. "I like you Trunks. After we eat, how about a spar?"

"Aw, but you said you didn't wanna fight," Goku frowned.

"Not with you. Fighting you is what I was made for. Honestly, I don't do well with orders, but this guy" he looked to Trunks, "I like. I'd like to see if he deserves to copy my hair style."

Trunks found himself grinning, and quickly wiped it away. "I...don't know. I may not be able to hold back," Trunks stressed, hoping Goku would get the hint. 17, however, took it as a challenge.

"Well now you're just flat out calling me out. It's settled. We eat, than fight." 17 moved past them, looking things over as he did so. "Well, this place is kinda small though..." He disappeared into the house and Trunks glared to Goku who merely rubbed the back of his head, smiling wide back.

"Goku...," Trunks said, tucking his chin into his coat.

"Oh, come on. It's not a real fight. Do this for me, Trunks," Goku pleaded, clasping his hands in front of him in a begging display. Trunks sighed.

"Fine..."

Goku stood straight and slapped him on the back. "Now let's get in there before someone let's it slip that you and 18 had a thing."

Trunks bolted for the door. "We did not."

Trunks barely side stepped as 17's boot came flying for his face. He didn't have time to do much of anything except dodge, and even then he couldn't always manage that. 17 had already landed some clean blows. Everyone else had gathered to watch the fight. Vegeta was leaning against the tree, his eyes cut to the fight but remained silent. Goku sat cross legged watching the battle, and Piccolo stood next to him. King Kai stood, arms behind his back, with Bubbles. He said nothing either, but it was clear he was watching for something.

"Hey, come on, this isn't any fun unless you fight back," 17 called. Trunks felt his veins roar with life for what seemed like the hundredth time. He was keeping all of his mental focus on that this wasn't a real fight, and this wasn't the 17 he knew. He was scared that if he ascended to Super Saiyan his body would react before his mind could. He was trying to give this 17 the benefit of the doubt, but with comments like that it was really hard.

"Sorry," Trunks mumbled. 17 had left himself open, on purpose Trunks knew, so he threw a straight punch. Naturally, 17 countered and brought his own fist up into Trunks's chin. Trunks fell back with the blow and hit the ground with both hands, shooting his feet out at 17s stomach, though 17 had already stepped back. Putting his hands up, 17 spoke.

"This is boring. I give up," he said. He turned and walked away from Trunks. "Maybe we can fight again when you improve."

Trunks felt his temper flush. He had the same condescending attitude, at least. The other 17 had done something similar before, and it irked him. He could beat this android, he knew he could. He wouldn't even need to ascend past Super Saiyan to do it. Still, he didn't want to chance it. He wasn't sure if it was his own doubts about what Goku had said, trying too hard to give him the benefit of the doubt, or if it was because he still felt bad for having killed someone destined for heaven. He stood slowly and looked to Goku. Goku gave him a knowing nod. Apparently the elder Saiyan had foreseen this outcome.

"Well, I guess I'll train 17 instead," King Kai announced. Trunks raised a brow. "What? You lost. I was gauging who to train. Now, 17, in order to become my student you must tell me a joke." Trunks gave a sigh. Turning, he saw that Vegeta had left his perch on the tree. Apparently he had successfully both lost rights to train with King Kai, as well as disappointed his father. This was turning out to be a very poor day. He felt a presence and turned to see that Piccolo had approached him.

"You're scared," the Namekian said flatly.

"No...kind of, I guess. I just...it's hard," Trunks said. Piccolo eyed him for a moment before he turned his dark eyes towards Snakeway.

"Before Vegeta came to Earth, do you know what he did?"

Trunks nodded in silence.

"Your father has single handedly killed more people than both the 17 and 18 you know combined. Still, Goku spared him, as he had done me. He believed that both Vegeta and myself were capable of more than evil. He was right, on both counts. Both of us swore that we would kill him. In my case, I did, but it was a hollow victory. It wasn't so much as I killed him as he sacrificed himself. Vegeta had the chance to do so, but he never did. He wanted an honorable battle he never got. Even here, Goku and Vegeta spar every day yet Vegeta never tries to outright kill Goku. If he can see the good in people, why can't you?"

"I'm not Goku. The androids killed people very dear to me..."

"Goku watched Frieza kill Krillin and still gave him the chance to live a life of peace," Piccolo retorted.

"That didn't turn out so well, now did it," Trunks said bitterly.

"That was Frieza's choice, not Goku's The thing that matters is that he offered that choice. Vegeta and I changed, albeit some of us more begrudgingly than others."

"You changed by will. These two were changed time lines getting messed up."

Piccolo looked back to Trunks, who looked to him.

"Than what's the problem? If they were changed, than they never did anything wrong. It's you who's wrong for holding someone against someone that they never did."

Trunks was silent, cutting his eyes to 17 as he spoke to King Kai. "That doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"No one is saying that they didn't...but you need to accept that things are different. Let go of what was and embrace what is. True warriors adapt to any situation they're put into, Trunks. You're your father's son, but I also know that you look up to Goku—it's evident in how you interact with him. Ask yourself: in your situation, what would Goku, or your Master Gohan do?"

He remained silent after this. Try as he may, he couldn't refute that Piccolo had a good point. Their choice would have been obvious. So why, than, was it so difficult?

"Are you sure you have everything," Goku asked. Trunks couldn't help but smile.

"I came here as I am now, Goku."

"Do you have your sword," Goku asked.

Trunks almost turned to look, but felt the weight of the item strapped to his chest. Goku merely gave his signature boyish smile at him. He looked to Piccolo who merely nodded.

"Go with honor, Trunks," were his only words. Looking to Vegeta, the man merely stared at him before he turned to the side, looking elsewhere. Trunks gave a small smile to the man. Apparently Vegeta saw this and cut his eyes back to the boy.

"Stop being a sap and leave already," he warned.

"It was good seeing you, father," Trunks said, though Vegeta merely looked away.

"I'm fluent in Vegeta. That means he'll miss you," Goku said placing his hands on his hips. Vegeta turned, fists balled.

"Shut up, Kakarot. It means no such thing!"

Goku laughed and Piccolo hung his head with furrowed brows. That had been his ear that was shouted in.

Trunks looked to King Kai and 17. "Thanks for letting em stay here, King Kai."

"Oh, sure, no problem. I'm just sorry there wasn't much food left thanks to Goku and Vegeta." Trunks nodded.

"It's alright."

"Hey, before you go, want to hear a joke," King Kai asked, leaning forward some.

"Er. I'll pass," Trunks said, laughing nervously. He had been warned by the others to not indulge the Kai.

"I see how it is. You show up, eat my food, and won't even listen to my joke. Hmph." The squat Kai turned his back on the purple haired warrior, leaving 17 to address Trunks.

"Well, kid, it was fun. Maybe we can fight again sometime after you get some practice. If you're going back, though, do you mind doing me a favor?"

The last two weeks had been uneventful for the two. Trunks tended to stay away from 17 as he mulled over what Piccolo had said. 17, however, had no intentions of leaving Trunks to brood his way through his last two weeks. He constantly sought out the purple haired fighter on the tiny planet and tried to pry information about things from him. Trunks was always short and to the point. It was awkward when you were speaking with someone who you had, for all intensive purposes, murdered.

"It depends on the favor," Trunks admitted.

"I have a sister. She's my twin, has blonde hair. If you happen to run into her, can you tell her I'm doing alright? She can be a bit of a drag when she worries all the time," 17 admitted. Goku had caught this exchange, and Trunks saw him grin near mischievously out the corner of his eye.

"I-if I see her, I'll let her know," Trunks said, nodding slightly.

"Right on. Well, get outta here. You're cramping my style with that hair of yours," 17 said, waving him off with a grin.

Trunks nodded and turned, walking to Baba who sat patiently. Well, what appeared patiently. "Are you quite done?"

Trunks nodded and looked back to the others. "Goku, tell Gohan I said hey!"

Goku gave him a thumbs up. Before Trunks could hear his response, he was standing in front of the Capsule Corps building. In the month he had been gone, it had gone over a complete rebuild it would seem. The grass had been cut, the building was being worked on (there was scaffolding still up) and the walk way was lit up with lights along the side. It was night, and the lights made the area feel much more like a home. He turned to Baba and she blinked before ushering him.

"Well, go. Shoo," she muttered before she floated up.

"Thanks for bringing be back, Baba," Trunks said.

"As if I had a choice! Now you be good, and don't go messing up any more time lines, you hear? I don't wanna go through this mess ever again!" And she was gone.

Trunks turned back to the door and let out a sigh before he approached and opened the door. It was dark, though the lights sprung on and Bulma stood in the living room. Above her head, on the threshold that lead to the kitchen was a welcome home banner. It was very worn, and ripped in several places which meant she had salvaged it from somewhere.

"Welcome home, Trunks," Bulma cheered.

The thought made Trunks smile. This was home, and the woman before him was the woman who birthed him. "Thanks, mo—" he was cut off as the woman rushed and hugged him tightly.

"I don't think I'll ever get use to you being so much broader than you were before, but that doesn't matter. You're my son," she said as she hugged him. She leaned back, giving him a tear filled glare. "Just promise me you won't have to play dead again to prove it."

Trunks smiled, feeling his own eyes burn a little. "Promise."

18 walked past the two, via the hallway and stopped to look at Trunks. Trunks looked back, and 18 noted that while it was a wary look it didn't hold the malice or disdain it held previously. "Oh. Has it been a month already," she commented before she continued walking on. He wanted to call out and deliver 17s message to her, it's what Gohan or Goku would have done. But instead, Trunks decided to plan another course. He looked down at his mother. "Mom, I need a favor." His tone was low, signaling that it was a form of secret.

Bulma let go of him, smoothing her shirt. "Of course, dear, anything."

"I need to go to Namek."

A/N: Don't forget to review if you're enjoying the story! Reviews help motivate me, and lets me know that people actually read my stuff. xD