A/N: Thank you KimiruMai, elleelle, Cityracer, GTIGERFAN1 and the two guests for reviewing the last chapter! I love love reading all your comments! Let's just say, these 20+ chapters couldn't have happened without your supports and this includes all readers.

Game of Life

Chapter 20 - Father and Sons

It was all over. The voice was gone.

He silently watched the picturesque image above with a heavy, yet content heart. Young Trunks finally calmed; his golden flame extinguished as Vegeta held him. The boy buried his face in their father's bloody chest; hands gripped firmly on the shredded fabric. The boy was almost a teenager and less than a head shorter than their father, but within their father's embrace, his younger self looked small; like a child lost in this massive world, a child who had finally found safety in their father's protection.

If they were talking, Trunks couldn't hear. Besides, he didn't want to intrude or rather couldn't intrude in their father and son's moment. He had never expected to see this scene, least of all, from Vegeta. Nevertheless, the scene felt right.

A weak smile appeared on his face. They would soon return to their world. Trunks couldn't help but wondered where his path would be from here on. He was no longer bitter at his own existence, only heartbroken that he didn't have more time to learn about this Vegeta, a father he was sure the real future Trunks would love to know. It saddened him that he was unable to bring news of this Vegeta back to the future, to the real Bulma.

Sighing, he adjusted his broken arm to stop the ligaments on his shoulder from tearing further apart. He seethed as a jolt of pain shot down the length of his arm. He waited until it subsided, then took one last look at the father and son. Whispering a quick farewell and good luck, Trunks turned around to face to uphill terrain. The miniscule droplets from the angry river sprinkled on his skins, agitating his open wounds. He ignored them and started upstream, leaving behind the father and son.

The world suddenly became eerily peaceful. The oppressiveness he felt seconds ago was gone and he could breathe again. For some reason, he felt extremely tired; his body ached and his mind jumbled. He couldn't remember what happened. He vaguely remembered someone told him that they were going home.

Home.

His eyes sprang open and his body jerked, though, something or someone was pinning his body in place. He could not see as his view was blocked. His fear returned. Someone was trying to trap him. He started to tremble and felt his ki started to burn.

"Stop moving, boy. Do you want to finish the job you've started?" He heard a very familiar voice grumbled with a light growl. That voice sounded awfully like his dad.

"Dad?" his voice was muffled. It took him a second to realize his face was buried in his dad's chest. He didn't even realize he was gripping hard on his dad's tank which was somehow shredded to pieces.

"Stupid kid. Finally decided to leave that hell world of yours?"

Suddenly he felt warm blood rushed to his cheek. His dad was holding him. Since that one time, his dad had never again held him like he was doing now.

His dad moved and the distance between them widened. Although he was embarrassed from the physical affections, he did not want to leave the security of his dad's warmth. He felt safe there, felt like no one who caused him harm. Disappointed, Trunks reluctantly let go. His eyes traveled up into his dad's dark eyes and furrowed brows. It was not the look of annoyance he always saw in his dad. There was pain behind those dark eyes.

Trunks caught a glimpse of red on his own shirt. He stretched the fabric and saw a huge spot of crimson blob. However, he didn't feel any pain except for the aching in his muscles and the soreness in his left leg. Confused, he raised his head. Before him was his dad. On his dad's chest was a terrible burnt flesh; blood clearly visible beyond the torn fabric. "What happened to...?" he stuttered.

"Stop being dramatic, boy. This is nothing," his dad grunted while reaching for his shoulder. He grabbed it and squeezed lightly. Then the pressure increased. Trunks could tell that his dad was using him for support. He was more hurt than he let on. "Are you planning to stay here all day? If you're done staring at me, get your ass down there."

Trunks looked down, shocked to find himself above a raging river surrounded by mountains. The last thing he remembered, he was in a desert. How did I get here?

The pressure on his shoulder increased, pushing him down. "Let's go."

He allowed his dad to lead him while his thoughts were elsewhere. Despite what his dad said about being dramatic, Trunks was still shocked to find his dad in this state. He turned his palms face forward, feeling his skin tingling with unknown energy. He had been fighting. With who? Was his dad's injury done by him? Why would he hurt his dad?

When they landed, his left leg buckled, almost causing him to tumble down to the ground only to be saved by his dad's weak support.

"Dad..." He raised his head and his dad gave him a quick nod before he let go, turned and looked around as if searching for something. With a sigh, his dad walked to a wet boulder, leaned against it, sliding down the rough surface of the rock until he was in a sitting position. Placing one hand over his knee and the other on his chest, his dad finally looked at him. His expression was, as always, unreadable. Trunks was looking for any indications that he was in trouble. He found none.

Another mystery that was nagging at Trunks was the fact his dad had hugged him. Why?

"Trunks, let's talk," his dad said, pointing at the empty space to his side.

Talk? His dad actually wanted to talk? What happened? Why was his dad acting so weird?

Trunks treaded cautiously to his dad's side, watching him closely. His dad had his head against the jagged rock with his eyes closed. When Trunks reached the spot, he sat. Trunks nervously glanced sideway. His dad looked exhausted, more tired than Trunks had ever seen him. Trunks once again brought his palms face forward. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that he did something really wrong.

"Dad...what have I done?"

"So you've forgotten everything. How convenient," his dad said with a snort. "Wish I can do the same when I don't want to remember certain things."

"I...I..."

"Tell me, Trunks," his dad said with his eyes still shut. "What do you think of your sister?"

It was as if a key had turned, unlocking all his suppressed memories. It all came rushing back. He dropped his gaze on his palms. They were red now, dripping with blood. He started to shiver when he remembered all the ill-feelings of jealousy and resentment that had infiltrated his every thought. It had consumed him completely and for that, he felt ashamed and also very scared.

He started to tremble when he remembered he might have been the one who killed the Vegeta of this world. He shouldn't be powerful enough to inflict the damages, much less, kill, but how else would he explain Vegeta's disappearance?

His dad...

Now Trunks was sure he was the one who had dealt the blow. Trunks threw his face into his hands, quivering at the memories. What on earth had possessed him to hurt his dad? What if he next person was his mom who would be defenseless? He was not safe to be around. Maybe he should stay here…maybe he shouldn't go back…

He felt a hand on his head. Trunks peeped through his parted fingers and saw his dad sitting upright with his hand on him as if trying to comfort him. For some reason, the gesture calmed him. Still, the horror of his own action scared him. He was capable of killing...

He felt the hand leaving his head. "Trunks, snap out of it."

"Dad, I didn't want to...I don't know why I did the things I did...and...and...I almost killed you."

"So, you remember."

Trunks nodded in shame.

"Don't let this go over your head. I was distracted or else you can't even ay a finger on me. Besides, this is but a scratch."

"But..." His palms...the red was fading. He blinked and the blood was completely gone. He had been waiting for someone, anyone to snap his sanity back in place. He never imagined in a million year it would be his dad, of all people.

"This whole shit is no fault of yours, you hear me, boy?"

Again, Trunks nodded. It did not matter what his dad said to reassure him, this whole incident would be forever with him. He was the one responsible for his mess they were in.

"You didn't answer my question."

Snapping out of his bleak thoughts and grateful for the change of subject, Trunks answered, "You mean, my sister? I feel the same as everyone."

His dad rolled his eyes. "I can smell a lie before you even start talking."

The anger returned. Why was his dad so insistent on asking him about his unborn sister? He rubbed his finger repeatedly, trying his best to hold his anger. He knew what would happen if he allowed his anger consume him. "What do you want me to say, dad? Does it matter what I think? She's coming no matter what so why bother asking me?"

"Because it's obvious you have some resentment toward her, so much so that pitiful voice had control over you."

"Are you saying I'm weak?"

"Boy..." his dad started with his eyes twitching. Trunks flinched and readied for an attack. Then his dad took in a deep breath. "I did not call you weak."

"Sorry," Trunks replied. He did not know how to respond without sounding needy and immature. "I don't know what to say..." He looked away, afraid to see the expression on his dad's face. "You and mom always talked about her and she's not even here yet. I just know it. You and mom will have no time for me when she's here. It had only been four years since you started to acknowledge me. I want another four years and another. I don't want to share." There it was. He said it. He told his dad how he really felt.

"What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to deal to these useless human emotions?"

Trunks knew it. He knew this dad would ridicule him. He knew he should keep his mouth shut. He whipped his head away.

There was a light grunt and then a heavy, defeated sigh. "Trunks, I will only say this once. Clean your ear and listen carefully because I will not repeat it again, ever." With a slight pause, his dad continued, "You're a big pain in the ass."

Of all the things he expected his dad to say, this was definitely not one of them.

"Your immature acts with that Kakarott's brat drive me crazy. Crazy enough to wish I can blast both of you into the space and back. But at the end of the day, you're my son, the only son. It doesn't matter how many Trunks popped in from the future or the past or how many kids I'll end up having, you will always be the firstborn."

Trunks blinked.

"I'm proud to have you as a descendent of the Vegeta's royal family despite all those silly traits you inherited from your damn mother."

Trunks' eyes grew wide. Did he hear right? Maybe he should clean his ears as instructed by his dad. Trunks held still and didn't turn back, fearing his dad could see his blushed cheeks.

"But you're still a big pain in the ass."

He said it. It was easier than he thought. Perhaps he had grown a heart through this ordeal. Imagine that. Vegeta with a heart. He snorted. Who would have thought? Surely, he had not foreseen this when he first came to this small planet.

In truth, he was relieved his actions had brought Trunks back to reality. He side glanced at Trunks who still had his back facing him. The boy was probably shocked at his words. Let him bathe in it.

Using the boulder's wall as a support, Vegeta stood up, carefully not to puncture his lungs. This was no scratch as he had claimed, but he'd manage. When he felt he was steady on his feet, he glanced down at Trunks. The boy shifted. "Sit still."

"Where are you going, dad?"

Vegeta was contemplating whether he should tell the boy that he planned to look for the future brat. He watched Trunks with scrutiny. His wild eyes disappeared and hint of abnormality was gone. Still, it could be because the voice was no longer present. Vegeta did not trust it to completely disappear. He had a strong feeling this was not the end. What he should do now was to leave this dreaded place or at least, send Trunks on his way. However, he could not leave things as it stood now. The future brat had a right to a closure.

"To find the future brat," he said, trusting the boy to stay calm at the mention of the one he tried to destroy.

"Trunks...is he?"

There was definitely remorse in his son's voice. This was a good sign. "He's still here. I have some business with him, so sit still until I return."

"Dad? Can I come? I...I want to apologize."

Frankly, it'd be better if he had his eyes on the boy so he nodded. Vegeta turned his head to the sky. He wondered if Gohan was correct in his deduction that the only way back was to exit the same way they entered. Somehow, Vegeta thought that the solution was too simple. Maybe he should knock Trunks out right now just to test Gohan's theory.

On second thoughts, he did not know the situation in their world. Sending the brat back too early and the brat might encounter a foe greater than the one within. Sighing, Vegeta followed the future brat's ki.

He had grown soft...way too soft to even consider the safety and feelings of others.

"Bulma! You're bleeding! Where are you hurt?" Videl finished checking Chi Chi's pulse to make sure her mother-in-law was well before rushing to Bulma who was sitting in a daze on the other side of the room.

"I don't know..." Bulma murmured. She was holding the bottom of her belly and grimacing as if in pain. "I hope it's not her..."

The baby. Videl was no doctor and knew to nothing about pregnancy. What should she do now? When she reached Bulma, Videl hastily examined the pregnant woman, brushing her hair aside first. There was a nasty cut from the ear to the chin, but that was not the source of the blood. Her eyes traveled down lower until it fell upon the thick sweatpants. Videl groaned as she put her hand on Bulma's belly and applied some pressure. "Does this hurt?"

Bulma shook her head and bit her lips. Videl noticed Bulma had her hand protectively on the right side of pants. Bulma frowned as she indecisively glimpsed outside and back at her. Finally, she said while chewing her lower lips, "Videl...I need to go home."

"Are you crazy, Bulma?"

"Videl, please," Bulma pleaded as she glanced outside once more to where Goten and Buu was fighting. "If I don't, none of this is going to end. Vegeta and Trunks...I have to—"

"But you're bleeding!," Videl cut her off.

"It's nothing," Bulma said, dismissing her injury as if it was minor cut. Videl could tell Bulma was lying. She didn't know much but bleeding during a pregnancy was definitely not to take it lightly. Why would Bulma risk the life of her unborn?

She knew she should get Bulma to a hospital as soon as possible. Though, with the state the city was in right now, even that was not an option. Videl looked over her shoulder to the unconscious Chi Chi and back to Bulma. "I'll go get Chi Chi and we'll leave this place at once," Videl said.

Bulma nodded.

Videl hurried to Chi Chi and grabbed her mother-in-law by the arm and threw it across her shoulder. She was thankful that the wounds were superficial considering their attacker was Buu. Lifting the unconscious Chi Chi to her feet, Videl flew to the other end of the room to the waiting Bulma who was in the middle of pushing herself off the floor, grimacing as she did so.

With her free hand, Videl quickly supported Bulma by looping her arm around Bulma's waist. "Bulma, hold on tight."

When she was confident that Bulma was secured, she lifted off the ground.

Videl darted her glance out the hole in the wall. From the distance, she saw Goten engaged in a fierce battle with Buu. It would be a matter of time before Goten could not hold Buu back.

As she flew to the opening, she heard a voice from behind, "Videl!"

Her heart skipped, almost causing her to drop both women. She spun around and cried out, "Gohan!"

They were alive. Thank goodness! Gohan was so worried that the vile virus' threat had already came true. Seeing all three women safe and sound, Gohan could finally relaxed.

He hurried to Videl as she lowered herself to the ground, awkwardly balancing two adults in her arms. She gently released Bulma. Bulma stood wobbly on her feet. Gohan rushed to steady her. "Bulma, are you okay?"

She nodded lightly without saying a word. Gohan returned to Videl and his mom. "Videl, how's mom doing?"

"She's unconscious, otherwise doing fine, but Bulma..." Gohan followed her gaze to Bulma's lower half and saw redness in the front. The baby! Oh man, Vegeta would definitely kill them all if anything happened to Bulma and the baby. He concentrated and sigh a relief. It was faint. He could still sense a tiny beating within Bulma. Regardless, Bulma needed medical attention and soon.

"I'm okay..." Bulma said weakly. She swept her eyes around and frowned. "Where's Vegeta and Trunks?"

He casted his eyes away, unable to meet Bulma's eyes without feeling extremely guilty.

"Gohan, where are they?"

"They're back at your house," he responded with a half truth. Vegeta did not want her to know what he was really doing and Gohan respected his decision. Besides, telling Bulma right now would only cause her to panic needlessly.

"I'm going back."

"We can't now, Bulma. Dad went to help Goten. Once he's done, he can teleport you," Gohan lied. There was no way he'd bring Bulma back. Gohan dug into this pocket and pulled out his last two senzu beans.

He turned to Videl and dropped them in her hand. "Give this to mom and Bulma." He was hoping for a better reunion, but it had to wait. "Videl, can you take care of them for me?"

Videl reluctantly dipped her head in agreement. Looking up at him, she said in a pleading voice, "Gohan, take care of yourself, please." He was surprised that she didn't demand to go with him. Perhaps she understood the severity of the situation. He was grateful she had chosen to stay out of the battlefield.

He nodded and narrowed his eyes to beyond the small hill where his brother and father were battling. Buu. Even if Tysfia was behind this, it was Buu who had attacked his mom and Gohan would not forgive those who dared strike his mom. Gohan clenched his fist and kicked his foot off the ground.

"Gohan, you don't understand—"

He heard Bulma called after him. He should have stayed and listened to Bulma given that Tysfia, Minat and Gizeth were keen on killing her. There must be a reason why. Had he thought it through carefully, he could have concluded that Bulma was the one with the key to destroy the enemy. At the end, Gohan allowed his thoughts of avenging his mom clouded his rationale.

Goten jumped back and then back again, avoiding Buu's attack as the fiend whipped his single antenna in half circle. Two moves later, Goten felt something wrapped around his ankle. Immediately he was lifted into the air and just as sudden, his face met the ground. With no time to react, he was once again hauled up. He quickly summoned ki to his palm and bent his body so he could see his ankle. Screaming, he released the ki into the pink antenna, blasting it into pieces. He landed on the ground in a cat-like stance, breathing heavily.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, he could not keep this up.

"Bulma," Buu continued to chant and began to head toward the house.

With a quick glance, he saw Videl kneeling by Bulma through the sizable hole on the side of his house. Oh man, his mom was going to be pissed.

"Bulma."

Goten shook his head. No time to think about the future. He had to concentrate on this fight. He had to keep him away from the house. They were depending on him to distract the ugly pink monster.

"Yo, Buu! You're opponent is me!" Goten cried out, dancing and distorting his face in a taunt. When he caught Buu's attention, he sped toward the pink monster. He dropped his head slightly and rammed it into Buu's side, causing Buu to shot across his lawn into the hill beyond. Without waiting, he sped after Buu, barely avoided the pink ki shooting straight into his face. Before he could shift to the side, he felt a gummy and spongy substance around his neck.

"Arghh!" he cried as he tried to pry the pink thing from him. Every effort led to the thing tightening around his neck, preventing oxygen from entering his lungs. Goten gasped desperately for air and managed to squeeze a quick breath into his windpipe. With another frantic breath, he opened his mouth and snapped it close, biting deeply into the pink flesh. Had he had enough breath, he would have winced from the overly sweet foul taste, but his mind was on survival mode. He opened his mouth again and bit down hard and at the same time, dug his fingernails into the flesh, raking them forward.

No matter what he tried, the pink thing refused to let go. He started to see little sprinkle of white dots and his ears filled with buzzing bees. His grip loosened. No! He had to hold on. He didn't know where he got his sudden burst of energy. He didn't care. He shot his eyes open and summoned his remaining Super Saiyan power and with full force, he smoked the flesh into ashes.

Dropping to the ground and on his knees, he used a few seconds to gather as much oxygen as he could, sucking in the air in choppy breath. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Buu zipping through the air. Goten rolled away in the nick of time. On his back, he saw a boot coming down at him and seconds later it was gone. "Goten!"

"Dad?"

He saw a hand reaching down. He grabbed it and allowed his dad to pull him to a stand. He bent over and rested his hands on his knees. "What are you doing here, dad? I thought you were at Trunks' house?" he managed to ask between gasp.

"I was. It's a good thing I came here in time." He saw his dad's eyes fixed on Buu who stood unmoving, cocking his head to the side with his arms crossed. "So it's Buu now, huh?"

"I'm sorry I can't beat him," Goten said, dropping his head in shame.

He felt a hand on his head and a light tousle. "You did good, Goten. This is not any Buu. This one must be mine. You're lucky you lasted as long as you did," said his dad as he smiled down at him, "I'm proud of you."

Goten beamed and straightened when he recovered a little of his energy. He knew he had a way to go before he could surpass his dad or even Gohan. At this moment, he was happy that he could make his dad proud.

Goten turned his head when he sensed Gohan from behind. He had not seen his brother since they split. "Gohan!" Goten waved with two hands, flagging Gohan. Needless to say, he was extremely excited to see Gohan.

"Hey, Goten. We're glad you're okay." Like his dad, Gohan narrowed his eyes, glaring at their foe. "Thank you, Goten."

"For what?"

"For keeping mom, Videl and Bulma safe," his brother said as he looked down at him. "If anything happened to them, we'll all be doomed, so we all live another day because of your efforts."

It was rare to be praised by two of the people he respected the most. Goten's chest puffed with pride. He knew it was childish to let a simple acknowledgement inflate his small little ego. He couldn't help it.

He wished Trunks was here to share this moment with him. They had talked many times how much they were underappreciated. Though it was semi their fault for not training as hard as they should. Trunks always wanted Vegeta to show some affection. Goten knew Trunks was envious of how easily his dad and Gohan showed how much they cared, either by play fighting or using small gestures like tousling hairs. As for Goten, he wanted to his dad and Gohan to know that he was not a little kid anymore, that he was capable to take care of himself.

"Gohan, Goten. This is the first time we fought together as a family, right?" his dad asked.

It was true that they had never fought together.

"We'll make Buu regret messing with the Sons and with our mother," Gohan replied in a soft but dangerous tone.

His dad slapped their back.

"Let's go, Gohan, Goten!"

Goten grinned widely. For once, they included him in the fight and did not force him to the sideline.

Trunks could have flown, but he enjoyed the droplets spraying at his face. Besides, he had used most of his energy on the fight with younger Trunks.

He wondered if they headed back already. They probably did. There was no reason for them to linger. Goku, Gohan and the rest of the warriors of this world should still be here, oblivious that they, too, were nothing but a program. Perhaps he should seek them out and spend the remaining time with the people he knew. He wondered if he could use the time machine in this world. Maybe he could send messages to his mom of his world. Trunks was sure even if they were not real, his mother would appreciate knowing that his father was indeed a man worthy of her love.

Looking up, Trunks sighed and with a shake of his head, he muttered, "What does it matter? Not like this world will last long..."

"Hmph."

Trunks' head twisted around to the opposite side. Above him was his father and beside him was the younger Trunks. Unconsciously, Trunks stepped back and tensed. What was his father thinking? The boy just returned to normal. What if their meeting evoked unwanted feelings again? Not like he feared for his life. Since his father did the near impossible and brought back his younger self from the brink of insanity, Trunks didn't want to see his father's effort go to waste.

When Trunks was certain that his presence did not agitate his younger self, he relaxed. If his father deemed it was safe to bring his younger self along, then he should trust him.

Still, why did they seek him? He had hardened his resolve and left quietly. "Fa..." he began and then corrected himself, "Vegeta."

"Hmph. So I'm not good enough to be your father, is that right, brat?"

Trunks' eyes widened and stared at his father. Did he hear right?

They descended, standing only a few feet away. His younger self took a step forward, his gaze fixed on his broken arms. There was definitely guilt in those eyes.

"This is nothing," Trunks said with a weak smile.

"Trunks, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." his younger self said as he raked his fingers through his hair, seemingly at lost of words.

Trunks did not blame him. Truth to be told, had their position been reverse, he was sure he, too, would have succumbed to that persistent voice. "Don't worry. I'm glad you're back," he said reassuringly and stole a quick glance at his father. "Father was worried. I'm sure he's happy you're back as well."

That had extracted a reaction from both Vegeta and his son. His father growled and his younger self turned back to his father with a shock look on his face.

As he thought, his father promptly retorted. "Mind your own business, kid."

Trunks couldn't help but chuckled. If his father didn't say anything to his younger self yet, then Trunks felt he should do the honor. His younger self had a right to know that their father indeed cared for his well-being.

Changing the subject, Trunks asked, "Father, why haven't you returned?"

"You asked a question I didn't answer," his father responded.

"And that is?"

"Unfortunately for me, brat, I have extraordinary memories. Wish I didn't," his father said without moving from the spot.

Trunks blinked and stitched his brows, baffled at his father's words. Was his father referring to his good memories of remembering his question?

"Stupid brat," his father snorted.

"I don't understand," Trunks admitted. He looked at his younger self for an explanation. His younger self shrugged his shoulder, looking just as confused.

"Forget it. You can think on that. I'll be on my way," his father grunted and spun around.

"Wait, father."

His father paused.

"Thank you for everything," he managed to say. As the words left him, he felt the heaviness lifted from his chest. Without waiting for his father's response, which he knew he'd get none, he turned his attention to his younger self.

"Trunks..."

From the corners of his eyes, he saw those two brats babbling with each other. It was a bit unnerving to see two almost identical faces conversing, especially knowing they were technically the same person.

"Please let mother, Gohan, Goku and everyone know, I'm happy to meet all of them." It was obvious that the future brat did not trust him to relay the message as the brat appointed Trunks to pass on the words. Not that he cared.

"Will do."

Not so long ago, those two were fighting as if it was the end of the world. Now, they stood face to face, smiling. Kids. Vegeta rolled his eyes. Simple-minded fools.

While those two were chatting, Vegeta made his way to the driest tree trunks and lowered his body to the ground. Those two followed his movement. With a wave of dismissal, he grunted and said, "Carry on."

Vegeta pressed on one of the broken rib bones. Already, he could feel his Saiyan's blood healing his internal injuries. It would not be long until he could maneuver without any pain. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, giving his body more rest. He cracked his eyes into a tiny slit so he could keep a watchful eye on those two brats.

"I know we didn't meet on good terms."

No shit. Vegeta snorted. And he was smacked in the middle of their fucking feud.

"Anyways, I hope we're good now. I'm returning your father back to you."

Vegeta rolled his eyes beneath his lids. It was still a mystery as to why these brats found him so great. On Vegeta-sei, brats did not know their parents. They were either shipped to another planet or drafted into an army. Only ones with royal bloods, such as he, had a chance to know their sire. Even then, they had spent more time training rather than bonding. If there was such thing as bonding on Vegeta-sei, it was through bloods and gores.

His brat replied, "Trunks, I mean it. I'm sorry. Now that I thought about this, it would be cool to have a brother even though you're technically me."

"Same here. It would be nice to have a younger brother."

This was the last thing he needed. More teenage hormones running around under his roof. He read about those diseases kids acquired when they reached the age of eleven or twelve. Perhaps this was the reason why Trunks was susceptible to outside influences, more so than the future Trunks.

"Father," the future brat called out, disturbing his rest. There was a moment of silence and then the future brat continued in a cautious voice, probably afraid of his reaction. "Let me see you off. I'll protect your bodies in case we have intruders."

"Protect our bodies? What do you mean?"

Right. He forgot to tell his brat. If he waited, the future one would start yapping, saving him the trouble of moving his mouth.

Sure enough, the future brat answered, "Apparently, the way out is the way in, at least that's what we think. Worth a try, right?"

"I don't know how I came in..."

"Go to sleep, Trunks," he grunted, tired of their blabbing. "That's how we came in."

"Dad, I don't know if I can go to sleep. What if the voice returns? I don't know if I can fight it."

Vegeta opened his eyes and fixed it on the future brat. "Knock him out."

"What?" they both exclaimed, mouth wide opened and all four eyes of the same color stared back at him in disbelief. It was indeed disturbing to see the same reaction on the identical faces.

Frankly, he had a feeling the voice was simply hiding out, bidding its time for devil knows what. However, they had to take the risk. Sighing, Vegeta closed his eyes again and said, "Trunks, you're stronger than you think. Just tell that damn voice to bother me if it returns."

He heard Trunks groaned and mumbled in a very low voice as he dragged his feet toward him. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. Going to sleep? What kind of escape is that?"

"Shut up, kid, before I order the brat knock you out."

Trunks smiled as he watched Vegeta and Trunks leaned against the trees, almost side by side with their eyes closed. Aside from the hair color, they shared many distinctive features such as the forehead, the same ripple between their brows when they frowned. They were definitely father and son.

Turning back to the raging river, Trunks laid his sword beside him. He was glad they came back for him. It was definitely more light-hearted than he had expected, especially with all the drama that had happened recently. He enjoyed his last few minutes he had with Vegeta and reconciliation with his younger self.

Though it'd be nice if his father wasn't so cryptic about his reason for coming to see him. Extraordinary memories? Then, Trunks remembered the question he had asked before they entered this world. Trunks chuckled lightly. His father was a strange man. Even stranger was his way of responding.

In his own way, his father told him that he'd remember his existence.

He turned back again and whispered, "Thank you, Father."

He might be seeing things. He swore he saw the side of his father's lips curled.

A/N: Wheww! Trunks is back to normal. I was waiting for this as much as all of you. I hope you don't find his recovery too rushed. I noticed when writing psychological damages, it's that much tougher to bring the character back to normal without all the angst. I will never attempt writing mind games again! Lol!