UK English etc.

Although Trunks had been healed by the little green Namekian boy, his stomach roiled. He was worried he was going to throw up on the pristine white tiles of the lookout, so he clutched his stomach anxiously as he stared at the orange dragon balls laid out in front of the Z Fighters.

They were smaller than he expected, a little bigger than the tennis ball he and Gohan used to toss around together. How could they possibly possess enough power to bring people back to life?

But they had to work. If they didn't… Papa was all Trunks had left. He didn't remember much about the day Mama and Gohan died, but he did remember the grief racking through him and leaving him hollow inside. He felt it now, the bitter pain so familiar he wanted to curl up in a ball and hide away.

He remained standing, fists clenched so hard his nails dug in, stoically staring at the dragon balls.

They had to work.

The alternative was unthinkable.

Trunks barely heard the wishes made by Krillen. He hardly noticed the change in the weather and the heavy atmosphere. The dragon itself was harder to miss, but Trunks stayed exactly where he was, in between Seria and Gohan, staring at the dragon balls.

"Your wishes have been granted," the dragon said finally, before disappearing and taking with it the strange clouds in the sky.

Trunks blinked, feeling as though he'd come out of a trance. Panic rose up in his throat as he scanned the lookout. He'd expected something else to happen, for the three to appear in a cloud of smoke or something. But neither Kakarot, Young Mama or Papa had appeared.

"Where are they?" came Gohan's worried voice from beside him.

"Don't worry kid," Piccolo said. "They've been returned to where they died. Give them a minute."

Trunks closed his eyes and reached out for his father's ki. He felt something, but was it his or was it the younger Vegeta's that he felt? Unable to tell, Trunks concentrated on breathing, counting with each intake. Ten, eleven, twelve… How long did it take to get here? Eighteen, nineteen…

A popping sound made Trunks snap open his eyes. There he was, standing with a hand on Kakarot's shoulder, and a scowl on his face. Relief coursed through Trunks. Papa was alive!

Gohan immediately fled from Trunks' side toward his father, throwing his arms around the man in a bear hug. Kakarot seemed a little overwhelmed, but laughed and returned the hug, patting his son's back soothingly.

All the other Z fighters crowded around them, cheering and babbling excitedly at their return, but Trunks remained where he was.

Papa stepped away from the group and glanced around the lookout until his gaze fell on Trunks. With a deep frown etched on his face, he strode forward until he stood before his son. There was a moment's silence as they took each other in.

"Any injuries to report?" Papa asked finally.

Trunks straightened at his father's stiff tone. "No, sir. Dende healed me."

There was silence again, but then Papa's frown melted away, replaced by both relief and exhaustion. "Good." He placed his hand on top of Trunks head and gently ruffled his hair. "You fought well."

Trunks couldn't help but swell at those words. His father might not be the most affectionate man, and he never gave false praise. If he gave a compliment, he meant it. "Thanks, Papa."

"Your mother…" Papa cleared his throat awkwardly. "Your mother would be very proud."

Trunks gave him a smile in return but he knew it was wobbly at best. "We did it. We changed the past."

"We did." Papa nodded and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. "Now all we have to do is change our future."

Trunks broke into a grin. The dragon balls had worked. Their plan for their own timeline would work. He and Papa were going to fix everything! "After all this, it will be a piece of cake!"

Papa shook his head with a low laugh. "I certainly hope so. I need to speak to Dende about something, then how about you and I boost it back to Capsule Corp before this riff-raff?"

"Can we race?" Trunks asked.

Papa smirked. "Is there any other way to fly?"

The sound of music and voices in the garden could be heard from where Bulma sat with baby Trunks in the living room at the other side of the house. The party had been going for hours, and even though the sun had set, the raucous laughter indicated that no one would be leaving any time soon.

She'd snuck away to shower and change out of her torn and dirty clothes into a summer floral dress in an attempt to lift her spirits, then she'd gone to get Trunks.

All Bulma wanted was to be alone with her son, but she didn't have the heart to tell everyone to go home when it was clear they wanted (and deserved) to celebrate defeating Cell.

Bulma clutched Trunks to her chest, breathing in his milky sweet baby scent. "I'm so sorry Trunksie. I didn't want to leave you."

Trunks cooed in reply and snuggled into her.

A knock on the doorframe made her glance up. Her father stood there, a deep frown crinkling his brow. Without waiting for an invitation, he came in and sat down on the plush sofa beside her.

He let out a deep sigh before speaking. "What you did was very brave." When she turned to meet his gaze, he pursed his lips. "And very stupid."

"But necessary," Bulma's mother said briskly, striding into the room with a tray of food. She placed it down in the coffee table in front of Bulma and took a seat to Bulma's other side.

"Yes, necessary," Dr Briefs agreed. "But when I saw what you did through that crystal ball I aged a decade."

"Oh, and Vegeta was incredibly upset." A sly smile crept onto her mother's face as she buttered a scone then handed it to Bulma. "You should have seen him, darling. That boy loves you so much."

Bulma snorted at the idea. "If he cared so much, where is he?"

"Don't be too hard on the lad," her father said, patting her knee. "He'll show up when he's ready."

"Eat up, then come join everyone outside," her mother instructed. "It's rude to ignore your guests."

Bulma sighed but did as instructed and, after eating enough scones to satisfy her mother, joined the Z Fighters who were gathered in the garden, laughing and chatting over the massive platters of food Bulma's mother had provided. The moment she stepped outside, Goku came over, looking much more subdued than usual.

"What's wrong Goku?" she asked. "Don't like the food?"

"The foods great! It's just…" He gave her a wry smile. "I'm going to miss it."

"The food?"

"No, this." Goku waved a hand to indicate everyone in the garden.

"You aren't seriously still considering going into space are you?" Bulma glanced down at Trunks, who she had settled on her hip. "Your family is here, on Earth."

Goku grimaced. "It's for the best. Will you give me a spaceship?"

Bulma sighed. If he was really going to go into space she couldn't stop him from Instant Transmissioning away. At least if he had a ship she could keep tabs on him. "We only have two in working order. One is for Future Vegeta to take with him when he and Trunks go home. The other is for Vegeta. I promised he could have one in case he wants to leave. I can build you another but it will take a while."

Goku grinned at her. "I'll just ask Vegeta. I was going to see if he wanted to come with me anyway, and we can use his ship."

Bulma's heart leapt into her throat. "You… you want Vegeta to leave Earth with you?"

"Yeah, it would be great! He knows space well, and he's a great sparring partner. It would be fun!"

"Fun," Bulma repeated flatly.

Goku blinked at her cool tone. "You don't think he'll want to come?"

Bulma closed her eyes to fight back her churning emotions. "I have no idea. Go ask Vegeta. I need to put Trunks to bed." She fled before Goku could speak again.

Would Vegeta want to leave? Before the battle, she hadn't been sure. He'd indicated that he might stay, at least for a while. But he hadn't been there when she got wished back. He hadn't come back to Capsule Corp.

He hadn't come home to her.

Vegeta would rather have avoided this ridiculous party but Trunks wanted to spend time with Gohan and Seria before they left, and Vegeta didn't want to let his son out of his sight. Trunks had come so close to dying on the battlefield. When Cell…

Vegeta shook his head, trying to clear away the memory of that moment of absolute terror and fury he'd felt. He never wanted to feel that again.

He picked up a spring roll from his plate and bit it in half. If he was going to be forced to stay, he was going to get a damn meal out of it. He'd commandeered one of the food tables, his glare keeping everyone away.

Well, almost everyone.

"Is it true?" he asked.

"Is what true?" Ara asked as she sidled up to him, her tone far too innocent.

Vegeta sighed. "Did young me really react to Bulma dying like everyone is saying?"

"Oh. That." Ara waved a hand nonchalantly before plucking a spring roll straight off Vegeta's own plate. "Of course he did." She popped the roll into her mouth with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. When she finished chewing, she continued. "She is clearly his one. You do not need to worry about this timeline."

Vegeta let out the deep breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. "I was never worried," he lied.

Ara just laughed. "Of course not. There was never any danger of you being too stubborn and idiotic to see what was right in front of you."

Vegeta snorted. "Given young me is currently miles away in the middle of nowhere, I'm guessing he's reverted to being stubborn and idiotic."

"Most likely," Ara agreed. "He'll figure it out though."

Vegeta wasn't convinced of that, but he'd done enough messing around with the past. Some things had to be left to work out on their own. "What about you and Seria?" he asked. "Will you be staying?"

Ara shrugged. "This is as nice a place as any." She glanced at her daughter, who sat between Trunks and Gohan on a large swing seat. "And it is nice for Seria to get to know Raditz's family."

The three of them were cackling over something, looking more like children than Vegeta could recall seeing them. Trunks glanced up, as though he felt his father's eyes on him. He smiled - a real, genuine smile of joy - and raised his hand in a two-fingered salute. Vegeta felt in his pocket for the piece of paper Dende had given him, then responded to Trunks in kind. For the first time, Vegeta had real hope that it was all going to be okay.

He was going to fix everything.

"Are you alright, B?"

Yamcha joined her in leaning against the brick wall. Night had set in and the pretty fairy lights sparkled through the garden, but Bulma had purposefully chosen a spot in the shadows to avoid being hassled by the increasingly drunk Z Fighters still celebrating their victory.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Just… tired I guess."

"Being wished back does make you feel odd for a while." Yamcha lifted a bottle of beer to his lips, and they stood there in companionable silence for a while. "It's a bit strange celebrating without the guy who actually killed Cell," he said, breaking the quiet. "I mean, you did most of the work, but Vegeta finished him off."

Bulma shrugged. "I guess he has better places to be."

Yamcha gave her an odd look. "I don't think he does."

"Where is he then?"

"I don't know, but Bulma, Vegeta went wild when you died."

"Krillin told me. Trunks told me. Even my mother told me." She waved her hand in irritation. "But I think you are all reading too much into it. Vegeta knew that if Cell couldn't regenerate he could be killed. I just gave him a little motivation to finish him off."

"It was way more than that. You didn't hear him… it was chilling. Vegeta wasn't just upset. He was devastated. Seeing you die… it… it broke him." Yamcha bent down and placed his bottle on the ground, then stood up straight and took her hands in his. "Look, you and I, we loved each other for years, but there was always something keeping us apart. Some excuse. The fact is, as much as I loved you, Vegeta loves you more."

Bulma swallowed hard. "Yamcha, I don't think-"

"It's true," he insisted. "I don't know if he really understands it, but he does. Don't make the same mistakes we did."

"If you're wrong, I-"

A popping sound came from the garden party and Bulma saw Goku appear, his fingers to his head.

"Don't worry about building another ship," Goku called out when he saw her. "I talked with Vegeta."

Bulma's chest felt as though it had been stabbed, and her eyes began to burn. She let the tears spill over, unable to stop the torrent.

Yamcha pulled her in for a hug. "I'm not wrong, B. Talk to him."

Bulma clutched him miserably. Vegeta was more stubborn than Goku. If he intended to leave there was little she could say to talk him out of it.

This took me a little longer than I intended to get up but the good news is that the next chapter is nearly finished as well!