AN: DBZ and all its respective characters are not my property; they're owned by Toei Animation and by Akira Toriyama.

"… and then he wasn't there mom, it was like something else was there and I knew he couldn't be there because they said that he was gone and it was trying to get out from inside of him and-"

Bulma nodded slowly, lips pursed as her son rambled on about the events that had transpired mere hours before. It was a worrisome thing; never before had he actually seen anything come after him, nor had anything ever made such efforts to go after her son. There was always the chance this was an unrelated event, just another random creepy-crawly attracted to the Briefs, but she wasn't the type to believe in coincidences. It was definitely related to Trunks – the other Trunks – and Mei arriving.

"Trunks," she said, and the child immediately fell silent as he stared wide-eyed at his mother. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Trunks shook his head rapidly. "No, no, I'm fine." He paused and smiled, head tilted slightly, and she glanced over to smile back. "Whatever it was, it couldn't get around the table. I left before anything could happen."

"Good," she said firmly, gaze going back to the road. Something bothered her, a slight difference between her son and the stranger from the future. Face, hair, nose – even their voice was identical, Trunks' a pitch higher but blending perfectly in with his.

Except for the eyes. Trunks had blue, vivid and piercing. His was a shade of purple, a violet that was darker than the lilac of his hair. Were they always that way? There was no base comparison, no point of reference she could look back to and say yes, they were or no and she squirmed with worry. It was unnatural, equal to the girl.

"Trunks," Bulma said after a moment. She turned to look back at him, reaching out to touch his shoulder while she spoke. "I think I want you to stay away from-"

"Mom look out!"

Immediately her foot slammed down on the brake, slowing the hovercar before Bulma could even glance out the windshield. Three police cars were lining the road, the one in the middle torn apart and leaking gas and oil all over the road. She twisted the wheel hard, spinning the vehicle around to further reduce the impact, the side of the car only lightly tapping against the broken squad cruiser as they lurched to a stop.

"Trunks." Gripping the wheel tightly, she looked over to see him already unsnapping the belt-buckle, squirming to get out of his seat. "Trunks, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to see what happened."

It was said so matter-of-factly that she had no choice but to gape for a moment as her child hopped from the car, jumping down into a puddle of oil and splashing away across rumbled road. Within moments Bulma composed herself, reached back to grab at the bag that was tucked so neatly under the back seat. Hunting knife, nine millimeter, and a sawed off – the essentials. Fingers tracing along the edge of the sheathed knife, she hesitated a moment before pulling the shotgun out. Overkill, maybe, but the situation set her teeth on edge and she hated walking into situations unprepared.

"Trunks, get back here!" Bulma shouted out, stepping from the car as well. There should have been the sound of traffic, of worried pedestrians, but all that she could hear was muted static coming from a broken com-channel. Nose wrinkling – there was blood in the air – she tightened her grip on the gun, easing over toward him.

The boy paused, perched on the top of one of the cruisers, and looked back with a pained expression. "Wait for me," she added, and he grinned.

"I don't have to wait in the car?" Trunks asked and Bulma worried her lip, teeth biting down ever-so-gently.

"… stay close to me," she said finally, working her way between two of the cars, and he eagerly hopped down next to her, face beaming. No, no – "One word out of you and I'll send you back so fast your head will be spinning, so help me." Trunks nodded rapidly, pantomiming zipping his mouth shut as he stood next to her.

No. He shouldn't be here.

Black and red streaks lined paths for them to follow with no sign of any body. Something bad had happened here, people had been hurt, and something had come through to drag away the evidence. Most of the evidence, at any rate, and she shivered at the thought of when it would be back to finish the job. Maybe that was the reason for the unnatural quiet; any who saw it were taken away and disposed of before they could speak of it.

There was nothing, just an empty street that reeked of death, and Bulma was about to turn to leave when something groaned lowly. Flicking her gaze to Trunks for a moment – the child looked back at her, shaking his head rapidly as he looked equally perplexed with just a hint of fear – she turned about, eyes trained on a half-decayed building they had passed so carelessly before. One, two, three steps and she gestured for Trunks to say behind her, shotgun gingerly poking at the rubble.

A hand shot up, fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun, and Bulma's finger was pulling back on the trigger when a face pulled up, tan and bruised and angry. "Ve-Vegeta?" she stuttered, freezing at the sight of him. "What are you doing here, what happened-?"

"I could ask you the same thing woman," he growled out, dust rolling from his shirt and hair as he pulled free from the shattered building. Bulma inhaled sharply at the way he held himself, left arm hanging loosely at his side while his right eye was swelling shut. "Was it your intention to send me out after a monster without alerting me to its presence?"

"A monster?" She lowered the gun, brow knitting together in confusion. "Vegeta, I don't know what you're talking about. I just wanted you to find Mei."

"And so I did. She was with Goku's brat." Standing at the full of his unimpressive height, Vegeta eyed the gun held tightly in her hand before looking back to see Trunks standing behind her. His hand was clutching the back of her shirt while peering around her curiously. Growling in irritation he shoved them both to the side, Bulma stumbling back against her son, and took off.

"Wha, Vegeta, wait!" She spun around, eyes wide, and Trunks stepped forward to follow. It was strange how he just ran, boots beating a rhythm against the asphalt; flying would have been a far more effective way of travel.

Caught up in her own thoughts it took her a moment to realize her son was pulling urgently on her sleeve, face twisting with worry. "Mmm, Mom," he said after a moment. "Mom, I can't… I can't feel Dad."

-----

"Look, I want an explanation and I want one now."

Mumei cracked her eyes open to stare at Gohan, expression blank. He scowled at how little she seemed to care, frustrated by the lack of emotion she was showing. "I told you-"

"Right, when Trunks gets here but the hospital has no record of anyone with that name getting checked in and Mrs. Briefs' doesn't know where he is so I'm just going to say that it could take awhile." The words struck a chord and she bristled, back arching as she stretched to her full height. "So stop stalling and spill."

"… all right, all right," she hissed, and Videl and Goten exchanged nervous glances at the venom in her tone. "I'll tell you everything you want to know. I'll tell you all about our wonderful, twisted future."

"I'll tell you how you fucked everyone over because of your own selfish desires."

-----

Goku exhaled heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead to slip down his cheek and disappear into the fabric of his gi. It was already stained, dark and slick from exertion. Leaning forward a moment, he breathed in deep before straightening and glaring at the mocking figure. "I'm not… going to give up," he hissed, aching muscles shifting back to the ready. The figure shrugged, broken shoulders grinding as they flexed up and down.

"I don't really have time to wait for the impossible then, so I guess I'm just going to have to end this," the figure spoke. He was beaten and battered past the point of recognition but it hardly seemed to affect him, save from jerky and stumbled movements. Goku had thought it would help, but even now he could still see the shadows of familiarity buried beneath the ruined remnants of the face. Gohan's face, the not-Gohan's face. It taunted him, forcing him to hold back at the last second as doubt kept on trickling into his mind. It can't be but is it?

"Just who are you?"

"We're already been over this." Dark eyes flashed in annoyance and something ripped out of his right shoulder, winding through the tattered flesh to pull his limp-hanging arm back into its socket. Goku grimaced and the Gohan-thing smirked, teeth shining through gaps in his cheek. "I'm your son, Dad."

He refused to believe it – his mind was rejecting the idea, rebelling against it violently – but Goku could see the resemblance. It was in the eyes and the voice; everything else was faded to shades of grey and reduced to patchwork, a facsimile of what a human should be. There was no mistaking those eyes though, even shining with the spite and hate he could feel emanating from the walking corpse.

The Gohan-thing raised a hand and every muscle in Goku's body tensed; he had seen this before, the monster's twisted version of a ki attack. Black tendrils wrapped around its arm, arching high for a moment before diving down and burrowing deep beneath the ground. As they raced toward him they left a trail of destruction that was almost cartoonish, three perfectly symmetrical lines of torn apart concrete.

It would do more than that to him if he let it.

He was ready, he was prepared, when blue and purple flashed behind the monster. The Gohan-thing whipped about, tendrils twisting in the ground to curve away from Goku as Bulma and Trunks ran into the street behind him, the boy stumbling to a stop behind his mother and clutching at the back of her shirt. Goku felt all the air suddenly rush from him, lungs collapsing in a single instant, and he froze to the ground while feeling the need to run as fast as he could. Vaguely he knew Vegeta was nearby, that Vegeta knew his wife and child were directly in the line of harm's way, but there was no time for either of them to do anything about it.

-----

A silence fell across the room after Mei's words. Gohan's eyes narrowed, the icepack pressed painfully against his chin, and Videl placed a hand on his shoulder; she wasn't sure if it was to keep him seated or to comfort herself. "I did this," he said after a moment, and Mei nodded.

"You did this," she repeated. "When I was eight, Cell attacked. You finally killed him, finally ascended and achieved a power level beyond anything I had ever seen, and all because Cell… killed me."

"… if Cell killed you… you said he killed everyone in your time. There would be no Dragonballs to wish you back."

Mei smiled grimly. "There weren't. You didn't wish me back. You… I don't what happened, but I remember waking up in your arms and you were smiling and crying and laughing and there was dirt all over my body and your arms and a man was standing next to you, a man who terrified me. His eyes were… pure black and he said that… ten years. In ten years, the deal would have to be complete. And you said 'that's fine, I'll make sure she goes through with it', and then the man just vanished. And afterwards this-" she held out her arm, pointing at the tattoo. "This was always there. Her mark."

-----

It felt strangely like déjà-vu though Vegeta was positive his wife and son had never been in a situation like this before, either separately or together. As the inevitable approached, ever so slowly, the end result began to play in a loop in his mind; Bulma and Trunks speared, blood vomiting from their mouths as they were forced off their feet and into the air. Bones would crack, limbs would be severed, and they would lie barely alive to stare balefully at him as a reminder of his failure as a father. They never should have been here, he should have sent them away, and it didn't matter how hard he tried to run they were still going to-

Bulma pushed her arm back, shoving Trunks to the side, and flipped the shotgun up in a practiced movement. Without batting an eye she pulled back on the trigger, the bullet ending up buried deep into the skull of Gohan.

The tendrils halted immediately, stopping inches away from her feet, and the outstretched arm of the monster fell slack as the back of its head was blown away. One eye – the only eye it had left – blinked before it crumpled to the ground, black blood oozing out in a puddle beneath it. Bulma snorted, the gun slipping down in her hand as she took a few stuttered step toward it.

Vegeta rushed in, arms circling around her as she sagged back against his chest. "What," he hissed, "was that?" She grinned in response, tired eyes looking up as Trunks trailed close, expression curious without a hint of the death he so narrowly avoided.

"And you told me that it was all in my head," she said, voice teasing with just a hint of accusation. Vegeta flinched, mind racing as he tried to remember just what she could be referencing. "That, that, that was not in my mind. This is real, Vegeta. It's real and it's deadly and it's not going to stop."

Oh. Oh oh oh- "Woman." He shifted his arms, holding her stiffly as Bulma slowly pushed back to stand on her own two feet. "Woman, you can't expect us to believe that this was some demonic hell creature of supernatural origins. There is some rational explanation for it."

"Of course there is Vegeta," Bulma agreed as Goku limped over. Lifting up a hand she pointed to the still corpse and everyone stared mutely as it began to stir, hands groping blinding along the ground as it struggled to pull itself back together. "The explanation is that we need to get away from here so that I can get something to at least stop it, if not kill it. What's going on isn't at all like anything you've ever dealt with before."

-----

Videl grit her teeth, a question dancing at the tip of her tongue – just what's the big deal with the tattoo anyways? – when the mark on Mei's arm suddenly shifted. Black dyed squirmed and twisted along pale skin, the eye blinking and rotating to stare at the three sitting across the room from her while the vines tightened about it. She felt nauseated and looked away, gripping Goten's shoulder tightly as the eye spun about.

A pause. "… he made a deal," Mei said slowly, lowering her arm. "And that's why I was brought back. They wanted my body; I wouldn't have been any good to them dead and I wouldn't have been any good to them as young as I was. They needed me older and stronger and they would only get that if he agreed for me."

"How does this-"

"Look, I know!" Mei shouted, cutting Gohan off. "Or more, I don't know. A year ago we went back in time to when Cell appeared in your time. It was Trunks and me and everything was still normal, at least as normal as everything ever got for us, and there were no monsters or ghosts or or- none of this was happening! Gohan told us to 'fix it' and we did and then while we were waiting we got to talking about how the other Trunks had spent so much time in the past and maybe that's where he went wrong, maybe we needed to hitch a ride back to the future right away so we burnt rubber as soon as we were sure he was dead and when we got there everything was fucked. I mean, total waste land, everyone was dead, and this lady was there saying that it was stupid for me to think I could hide in time, they would have found me eventually but what was I thinking coming home?" She paused, breathing deep while glaring at him. "Things just got… they got fucked after that, and Gohan, I mean, I wasn't lying when I said he died, but it's like they wouldn't let him stay dead because of the deal, because I wasn't going through with the deal, and I don't even know what the deal is but I just know that they… they have completely destroyed everything good about my brother and I know they will do the same thing to me if I let them come near me."

No one was prepared for the angry speech that Mei all but screamed at them and the silence that came afterwards was welcomed. For a moment the two Sons sat dumbly while Videl's grip tightened, nails digging into Goten's shoulder, and then a low creak sounded out. Everyone jumped on alert, wounded and weary pushing out of their chairs to eye the door warily.

"Oh." It was Gohan and he sounded relieved, the word coming out almost as a bubbling laugh as he sank back down. "Oh, it's just," and then the door opened and a blue-haired woman and a purple-haired child came hurrying in, followed by two bloodied men who seemed far too together for the rips and tears decorating their clothing. Sighting Gohan the taller of the two tossed a small brown bag that Gohan caught eagerly, fingers pulling the ties open to spill out a few green beans into his hands.

"I warned you," Mei said sourly, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing her arms. The shorter man scowled, making a threatening movement toward her, but a word from the blue-haired woman stopped him. "I told you not to go after him. You didn't stand a chance."

"No," he agreed gruffly, and Videl watched curiously as he seemed to wage an internal war before settling on sitting at the kitchen table. "That… thing was not at all what I was expecting. Odd that you were able to escape without any wounds, though."

"Not odd," she said. "Damaging me would be pointless when I'm what he wants. I'm sure she's filled you in already," Mei added, gaze darting over to the woman. For a moment she stared back before looking down, crouching down by the boy to murmur something to him. "Where's Trunks? My Trunks?"

"At the hos-"

"No he's not," she said curtly, cutting the woman off. "I called there an hour ago. They have no record so I called your house; your mother said she tried to pick him up but before she could the nurses said that he already left. Where is he?"

The two men and the woman exchanged a glance, confusion slowly melting into worry. Mei looked from each of them, mouth getting thinner with each passing second. "You lost him?" she hissed out, eyes flashing dangerously, and for a moment Videl swore they turned solid black. Just like in her story.

"We didn't lose him-"

"Then where is he?"

"… we don't… know."