Trunks eventually decided to leave her room, mulling things over on her own was a waste of time and only opened her mind to the darkness that made her doubt. She had to move forward, without thinking too much about it as she already knew what needed to be done. She knew Vegeta was back, he didn't make an effort to hide his presence, he had showered and changed back into civilian clothes. And he started appearing in her field of vision wherever she went, again. Even when she stepped outside to smoke, he was there. She avoided looking in his direction every single time, but didn't go out of her way to avoid him either. It was the exact same, until Gohan's visit a couple of days prior...

By dinner time, Capsule Corp had more or less returned to normal 'regular chaos', and not end-of-the-world chaos. Trunks was chosen for baby duty, and she complied, while for once, Vegeta sat at the time with them, eating in silence while the Briefs and Bulma chatted about anything and everything under the sun, including comments about the shave Trunks had given herself. She had tied up her hair out of the way for the meal (and out of the baby's grabby hands), the locks forming a loop as they weren't completely pulled out of the elastic, so what she'd shaved on the back of her head was bare to see by the three chatty earthlings. Trunks more or less tuned it all out, hearing but not listening, while she fed her alternate self with a fork, but also let him grab some pieces of food and eat them himself, then grab her left hand's fingers to squeeze. Her eyes registered Vegeta's intense stare on her. 'Or is he looking at us both?'

"And so tomorrow evening we'll have a little memorial for Son-kun and to support Chichi and Gohan-kun," Bulma concluded the plans for the next day with a disappointed sigh. Her best friend had left her, after all.

"Gohan-chan must be devastated.." Panchy expressed some worry.

'Panchy uses -chan for children...' Was she still a kid for her? Well, she was on the edge of seventeen when they first met, but now she was a full adult, no doubt about it. Trunks had come to terms with the blonde's quirks and stopped worrying about it, but her ears perked every single time anyway. The older woman was right, however. Trunks remembered how Gohan was blaming himself for Goku's sacrifice, she let him take it out on her just before Cell returned, after all.

"Trunks." Bulma called her again, and she finally registered that she was being talked to.

"Mh?" She looked towards the young mother to give her proper attention. "I am sorry, yes?"

"Do you have anything funeral appropriate in your wardrobe?"

"I have an armband and some black slacks." She gave back her attention to the baby who pulled at her finger with a disapproving stare, one she recognized from herself.. and Vegeta's. Vegeta who had just left the table without a word.

"Good enough I guess. They'll be here tomorrow by nine. Would you mind taking Gohan-kun to get a suit fitted, while Chichi organizes things here? And grab the cake for Trunks' birthday. Thanks."

It wasn't really a question as two business cards were slid her way with hours handwritten on them. She took them both with her right (still somewhat clean) hand and slid them into her jean's pocket, accepting the order given.

"And Krillin called. He said he and Yamcha were having some sort of celebration at Kame-House tonight and you were invited."

"Understood." Trunks acknowledged the information with as much flavor as dry bread and finished her meal. She needed to properly thank all of them for everything too, and doing it at the memorial service would be rude, so might as well accept the invitation and go.

After Bulma took over the baby and after she had washed her hands from all of the food he'd put on her with his sticky baby fingers, Trunks quietly left the dining room, retrieved her belongings and walked out of the compound sword on her back. She drove to Kame-House, flying over different cities all celebrating Mr Satan's victory over the monster and the return of all those who died. She carefully avoided the fireworks.

"And then that bastard shot Tenshinhan and Piccolo when they tried to reach you," Yamcha explained, between two sips of his drink. "Screaming nonsense about touching Saiyan royalty too."

Trunks was nursing her third drink at the impromptu celebration organized by the Turtle Hermit and his two students. Oolong was out somewhere she didn't bother inquiring about, and Roshi was already way past consciousness in terms of alcohol intake and had gone to call it a night after having mixed two liquors that shouldn't have gone in together. So only she, Krillin and Yamcha sat at the coffee table, chaining drinks and nibbling on snacks.

Krillin and Yamcha had just more or less finished telling what Vegeta had done after her death, as well as how Gohan actually won against Cell (before passing out in Yamcha's arms, Gohan said his dad gave him strength). She was stiff and her hand was on her chest, where she'd been hit, as the story was retold and corrected by the two martial artists. She remembered a sense of relief seeing Gohan was fine, she had managed to save him from the incoming blast, she also remembered Vegeta's ki surge, before everything went dark. Yamcha and Krillin actually talking about Vegeta's reaction as a father who lost his son was uncanny. He threw it all out to avenge her, and then, when he survived, he.. guarded her body and took it to the Lookout.

"I saw him all worked up before, on Namek, but that was another level, Trunks! Whatever you did together in the Room of Spirit and Time, he completely lost it when you died."

"Guess you truly are his son, uh," Yamcha added with an elbow nudge, and she side-glanced him with perhaps a little too threatening of a look considering how quickly the man backed away.

The more she thought about it, the stranger Vegeta had been acting. Ever since both their failures against Cell after he'd absorbed Eighteen, actually.

'No, it wasn't our year together, what changed him was the year he spent alone,' she concluded. Else he wouldn't have betrayed her like that when she tried to kill Cell before it absorbed Eighteen, would he?

"Anyway.. You didn't kill Seventeen when he asked to talk to you, did you?" Krillin meekly tried prying whether what he feared happened. Seventeen had asked to talk to the time traveler, and they both left, but the monk knew how goal-oriented Trunks was and felt the murder intents.

"I didn't, because I remembered your words," she admitted with a sigh, finishing her drink, then serving herself and everyone else another.

She had drunk about as much as them, but she was far from being as drunk as they were. Clearly they had started the party earlier, but still, she should be a little more tipsy than this… Was it a Saiyan metabolism thing, which is why tobacco didn't affect her that much either?

"Gohan-san and Vegeta-san are more than capable of destroying them should they cause any problems, so I am only letting them go because they have, so far, behaved. As much as they resemble the Cyborgs in my world, I have to accept they are not them. "

Even if her instincts screamed otherwise, she had to be rational about it. After all, this world's Gohan and Bulma weren't the ones she knew either, it would only be fair to give the same treatment to the Cyborgs. They had shown more humane qualities than she had, which profoundly bothered her.

"I'm glad," Yamcha acquiesced and drank. The bandit was happy Trunks had given up on the bloodthirst, despite being ruthless and clearly the child of both Bulma and Vegeta, completely missing the darkness surrounding the young adult.

What followed was teasing between the two men about Eighteen. Yamcha would never let Krillin get away with believing the Cyborgs were a couple, even if he too believed it due to Trunks never having talked about them as 'siblings'. Seventeen being delivered by King Enma's attendant was the first time he saw him, and when Cell vomited Eighteen, that was the first time he saw her too, but he agreed with Krillin that Eighteen was cute. Trunks half-listened, not that interested in the men's love and sex life, until Yamcha plain asked her about her own, whether she'd found some cute girl to warm her bed. She immediately left rather than answer anything about any of that and promptly found her way back into the Capsule Corp compound to sleep all of that away. She was barely tipsy when leaving, and had mostly sobered up by the time she hit her bed, binder-free.

With her timer, she was up just a little before dawn and knowing Vegeta would probably trail her the moment she left her room, she decided to wear her binder even that early on. At the Briefs she used to stay free in her pajamas until breakfast, either playing music or working on something in the lab or on her computer, but she didn't want to risk it. A voice in her mind told her she didn't need to do so anymore, the threats were dealt with, but she refused to change her habits. Black slacks, dark blue long sleeve tee and the mourning armband it was going to be for the day.

With the information she found out the night prior concerning Vegeta's outburst, and how he didn't let anyone approach her dead body, the same voice told her he knew. Did he put his armor on her for that reason? Her top and binder were probably damaged with the blast, but she didn't know the extent of it. When she woke up, she had the armor, and nothing else on her chest. Not even damaged, tattered fabrics. She tried burying those thoughts away, as if it never happened, she didn't like thinking about her own death, and hopefully, the Saiyan wouldn't bring it up.

She was quietly playing with her alternate self, under Vegeta's intense gaze, when Gohan and Chichi arrived with some luggage. The older Saiyan promptly disappeared in the gardens as soon as he felt Gohan's presence, and Bulma welcomed the widow and orphan with a big hug and condolences; clearly Bulma had invited them to stay over.

Knowing about the different bookings Bulma had made, the grandparents took over the baby and let Trunks go take care of what was needed. Chichi, the expressive woman she was, promptly hugged Trunks hello, and Trunks didn't find it in her to keep distant. The recent widow used the opportunity to quietly ask her if she'd told anyone about her pregnancy, between quiet sobs, and Trunks quickly said she hadn't. Of course she kept the information to herself, she'd sworn secrecy after all. Gohan also hugged her, and she was more receptive. Out of his super Saiyan state, the child looked more like the child he was, and then she regretted not staying with him longer on the Lookout. While she dealt with grief on her own and prefered isolation, Gohan didn't. With a hushed whisper, she apologized in his black hair, but the clueless look he gave her made her realize it was all good, so she gave him a warm smile.

Concerning what needed to be done prior to lunch, Trunks offered to drive, but Gohan preferred walking. She took her car's capsule anyway, as the bakery wasn't exactly nearby and she didn't want to walk all the way with it. Bulma gave her a light black beanie of hers before she exited the house, considering she'd been filmed upclose the day prior, 'someone as handsome as you with your hair color stands out, so if you don't want to be recognized..' . Trunks appreciated the forethought and put it on to hide her hair.

Gohan enjoyed a moment of peace without his emotional-wreck of a mother around and appreciated spending at least a moment alone with the time traveler. He loved his mom dearly, but sometimes it was a little too much, and he needed to process his own grief and pain, as well as the aftermath of it all, with someone more understanding of who he was. He had spent a few hours with Piccolo that same night, he had to sneak out to meet him, and was surprised that Piccolo was on the estate already. He tried not crying, Piccolo had been harsh on him when Goku died the first time when he was four, but eventually all came out without his permission, and the Namekian let him cry it out against his cape, without saying a word, his hand barely on the child's head. He fell asleep like that, and Piccolo put him back in his bed quietly before disappearing.

Gohan thought he was out of tears, but seeing Tora and knowing he died because of him made him reconsider that thought. Still, he held up with dignity. Tora had said he was a tough cookie and that Gohan had nothing to apologize for, just after being brought back. The time traveler was not the kind to accept more apologies, considering how he punished Gohan for the doubts he had prior about their proximity, so he decided to let Tora express discontent if he wanted to.

The fitting was their first stop. The devil worked fast, but Bulma worked faster, and some of the clothes she had ordered for Gohan after his sudden 'one day equals one year' growth came from the same shop. Including the light white western button up shirt and muted orange pants he was currently wearing. So getting to the same shop to make a suit was easy for the young mother who visibly gave them enough business to be their top priority. Only a few adjustments to the shoulders and the hems were needed, and the suit would be delivered to Capsule Corp by lunch. The seamstress and her assistants were polite not to ask about the armband Tora was wearing nor about the lack of joy from the two boys in the shop, especially with the express (and incredibly stern) orders given by Bulma prior to their arrival. Tora had no particular opinion about the suit, the fit or anything, trusting those who know and only really asking Gohan if he was comfortable in it. That was the sole criterion the two of them actually cared for, and if the seamstress said it looked good, then Chichi would be pleased.

Next would be the cake, but the pick-up time for it was a solid hour away, so Tora offered they'd walk by the small park and waste some time there. After a smoke, confirming what Gohan had smelled prior on the young adult, that he'd started smoking again, Tora bought them both some sugary snacks and the pair sat under a tree. Gohan, like always, sat by the older's left side.

"Tora-san, you'll be going back home soon, won't you?" Gohan dreaded that moment, but he had to ask, to rip that bandaid off.

"As soon as I can, yes, but my mission isn't quite over yet."

"It isn't?" Gohan was surprised, he thought this was the end of it, that Tora would go home and kill the Cyborgs there.

"Well, first I want to ensure this world's Cyborgs will behave, even if I do not doubt for an instant that you or Vegeta-san will destroy them should they step out of line."

Gohan listened while eating his donut.

"How will you find them?" he asked between two bites.

"I arranged a meeting for tomorrow, and I am confident they will show up. I have a sort of hostage, after all." Gohan expressed his surprise with wide eyes and a 'uh?' face, so Tora elaborated. "Sixteen. The hardware- his body is lost, but I still have his software- his mind, his memories. If they are truly different from the ones in my world, they will show up."

"So Sixteen can still be brought back!" Gohan smiled brightly at the prospect, he had grown to like the gentle giant who had reminded him anger was something acceptable to protect the planet. He wanted to apologize to Sixteen too because he managed to obtain the power necessary to kill Cell thanks to his sacrifice, but had let it consume him instead of finishing the monster off.

"And whether Seventeen and Eighteen cooperate or not, Bulma-san will see it happen," Tora added as Gohan finished his snack. "Once I am somewhat comfortable letting them live, I intend to use the return procedure of the Time Machine we found, and once in 787, go to New Namek, so at least that Trunks can be wished back. Only then... will I return home to destroy the Cyborgs, and the lab before that version of Cell matures."

Gohan nodded as he understood the plan. Tora had so much planned ahead, going home wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He scooted closer and saw the other glance over and moved his left arm out of the way to invite him into his personal space. Gohan was happy to accept and slide right under the arm and snuggle against his friend. He felt the hand rest on his shoulder.

"You're still wearing your light armor," Gohan observed, and he heard a slight confirmation sound.

"I do not feel ready to take it off." Tora confessed in a whisper after a moment. There was a lot of restraint in the statement, but Gohan wasn't about to ask. Tora was private like that.

They both rested in silence for a little while, until it was time to get the cake.

The birthday's only highlight were Trunks' first steps (and the taste of the huge cake Bulma had ordered; Gohan was happy Tora had brought his car to bring it back), and Panchy being pushed away by the baby when she tried to help him back up when he fell. Bulma encouraged the baby to walk to her with cheers and encouragement. 'Stubborn like his parents and like Tora-san,' Gohan noted with a sort of melancholy. That child will grow up in a much happier and safer environment than his friend, and Tora often looked at the baby with an unreadable expression. Would he be jealous of his alternate self? 'Tora-san isn't the kind of person to feel self-pity, but he isn't a joyful person. It must be hard..'

The time traveler isolated himself for a couple of hours for a nap between the lunch-birthday and the memorial organized for Goku.

Being only an acquaintance, Trunks, like Vegeta and the Briefs, stayed further back, while Goku's close friends and family reminisced about their departed friend. Trunks noted how Gohan stood by his mother, in his black suit and tie that fit him perfectly, with dignity, but he didn't want to be there. He was taking over his role as 'the man of the house' with reluctance, yet he supported his mom and played his role. She looked intensely at him every now and then, trying to convey she understood and saw him.

Vegeta didn't bother with the armband and put on whatever clothes he had (a teal long sleeved shirt and some beige slacks), but he was present nonetheless. Nobody cared to tell him what he was wearing was somewhat inappropriate, but Trunks stayed by his side, just in case he did something outrageous and needed to be stopped. Goku's friends didn't tend to have formal clothes either, so the service was perhaps a little too casual from an outsider's perspective, and while Chichi had lightly complained, she was happy they showed up to support her and her son. The Prince made sure to keep his ki completely masked, as Trunks usually did, which was a little uncanny as he usually didn't bother hiding his presence from anyone, and his eyes were firmly set on the widow and orphan. When the Briefs went to take over taking care of the baby, leaving Vegeta and Trunks alone, the older Saiyan gave her a brief glance, then with a subtle movement of the chin, indicated Chichi.

"That's Kakarot's mate isn't it?"

"His wife, yes."

"She's going to pop out a spawn."

Trunks blinked slowly and looked back at her neighbor, her brain a little slower than usual to translate what Vegeta was saying. 'Of course he'd notice.'

"Don't go out and let people know, she has not announced it yet."

"You mean these oblivious weaklings can't tell?"

"She is wearing something ample enough," Trunks had a brief shrug, having noted that the Eastern style dress Chichi was wearing was on the looser side. Vegeta looked even more surprised at how people didn't notice than he was at Chichi being pregnant to begin with.

"Or they're just being polite about it," she added, a sort of double message she hoped the Saiyan Prince would get, should he truly know about her situation. Vegeta just tssked, arms crossed and looking as if the whole ordeal was a waste of time. And yet, here he was, witnessing it all.

"Vegeta-san," she called him with a little hesitation. He looked back at her with a raised irritated eyebrow. "You're mad he died."

"Of course I am. That bastard died and chose to stay dead instead of facing me."

"You wanted to best him, didn't you?"

"That son of a bitch died stronger than me. Unacceptable," Vegeta grumbled.

"Well he forfeited your match, so you win." Trunks couldn't help the slight smile creeping on her face. Vegeta missed Goku in his own weird way.

"That is no victory," Vegeta growled a warning, his heir didn't know any better but Trunks' lack of pride still irritated him.

"Then claim other victories. What we did to go beyond super Saiyan wasn't enough, there is more power within you. Aim at obtaining the same transformation Gohan-san unlocked."

"Yours, too."

"Mh?"

"You wielded that same power before you died," Vegeta hissed quietly.

Trunks was speechless. But before she could ask for clarification, Vegeta had left to disappear from the compound.

That same night, when everyone went to bed, Trunks was kept awake by Gohan's fluctuating ki. Eventually it calmed down, but that was because Gohan woke up and left his room.. and came towards hers. She pushed the covers off of her, made sure her pajamas were proper, pushed the sword back and slowly walked to the door to open it before he knocked. His hair was disheveled, his pajamas a little misfit, and his eyes teary and shy.

Trunks put two and two together and knew what happened: nightmares. She invited him in without a word, before he apologized, closed the door, and still in silence, helped him lay down on her bed, letting him rest his head on her thigh, holding his hand and letting him cry everything out in quiet sobs. Just like his counterpart did for her when she had nightmares and anxiety took over, she couldn't always face her mother and admit weakness, but with Gohan? With Gohan she could cry it all out. And so, like she did at his age, this version of Gohan didn't go to his mother, but to his friend who shared similar circumstances, similar struggles, a similar lineage, and wasn't exactly an adult.

And realizing there was no use fighting a Saiyan grip as he slowly fell asleep, Trunks accepted that she'd have to spend the entire night with him. The bed was more than big enough for two adults to sleep comfortably, so sleeping with Gohan all while making sure her secret was safe was feasible. She laid down with him, the two facing each other, while she put her sword in his arms. He could grip it at ease and still feel her presence as she put a hand over his, on the sword's guard. His fingers and sleeping mind caught on to the intentions and he grabbed the item and her hand to bring them closer to him while he fought the nightmares. If she could trust her ki sensing, his fluctuations were more stable, and his expression was more peaceful.

Deep down, not having been able to support her version of Gohan still fueled the darkness of her mind, but she pushed it aside: this version of him needed her, and so she would fulfill that role. She moved the arm she was laying on towards her friend, and she put that hand above the pillows to rest in his hair and give a gentle rub. She couldn't quite hug him as her version of him hugged her during her own troubled sleeps, but Gohan was less clingy than she was, and the physical contact she did give him looked satisfying enough.

"There's nothing dishonorable with missing your father," she whispered, remembering how adult he acted during the lengthy ceremony, supportive and thankful of everyone coming to honor Goku. They all saw a savior, but she saw a child whose childhood had been robbed long ago.