TRAPPED
PART 3
Yesterday the doctors had recalled Vegeta, Bulma, Gohan and Videl from their well deserved sleep to report that suddenly, inexplicably, massive wounds had appeared all over Trunks and Pan, and that Trunks was near death. Nobody knew how it could have happened, in fact there was no possible way for anything to have happened to the two, yet both lay in the pristine white beds covered in wounds worse than what Vegeta and Goku constantly gave each other in their training sessions.
"It's obvious, madam, that somehow your son is caught in a repeating series of events being played through his mind. I believe that to him these events are entirely true, and that were he to die in this other world, he would most certainly die here. Unfortunately we must allow the chain of events to run its course, otherwise your son may sustain even more damage than that which he has already endured."
"You say all these words, doctor, but can't you see that they say nothing? My son is not a case, he's not a new problem to be reasoned out and solved. He's a person, he's my son!" At that she ran off down the hall, tears streaming from her eyes. Vegeta took one look at the situation and sped after his mate, scooping her up and carrying her outside under the concealing shade of some trees.
"Shhh, hush my love," he crooned, rocking her in his lap. "He will survive. I know our son. He is powerful; if anyone could live through what he is experiencing, he will." All the time that he spoke these words to her, he gently stroked Bulma's face and wiped her eyes.
"I hate that doctor! I HATE him! He talks about my son as though he wasn't even there, as though he didn't matter. He could have been talking about the stated of his hot water heater for all the emotion he showed! Trunks can't die! He WON'T die! I will NOT let them take him!" Through the last few sentences Bulma hammered tightly clenched fists against her husband's chest, then broke into tears once more, burying her face in his neck.
Vegeta smiled at her antics. "Hush, woman. He will live. You have borne such a wonderful son, he cannot help but live just to please you." He pushed his lips against her soft hair and sat, cradling his weeping wife in his arms, being strong for her, not admitting his own fears lest he lose himself in the enormity of what he faced.
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Another groggy awakening, but this one was far worse than any yet experienced. Fear seethed in tangible masses throughout the dark cell, permeating about both figures sprawled on the cold metal floor.
"Oh Kami." A quizzical look, "who's Kami? Ohhh who cares. My head! My head, oh fuck this hurts, oh fuck OWWW!!!!" This was said while crawling about the cell, and the last was a result of weak elbows collapsing after crashing into a slightly sticky, hard form in her path. ~Wait - sticky, hard, oh no, ohnoohnoohno it can't be!~ "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" The scream reverberated throughout the entire ship as she discovered that the still body in front of her was her purple haired man, and he didn't seem to be alive.
A twitch, so small that at first she didn't notice it, and then her heart soared. He lived. He yet lived! But something was wrong, seriously wrong. In the dim light she couldn't make out the extent of his injuries; she knew that they were grievously bad, but shouldn't he be making some sort of noise? Even if it was pain-filled grunts, she was certain some sound should come forth from his throat. Yet he was deathly silent.
Two days since that awful awakening, and he had healed considerably. Remarkably well for the condition he had been in. He could sit, and eat the meagre helpings of slop daily delivered through a slot in their door. But still he made no sound. She could stand it no longer, she just had to know, and so slowly she raised her hand to his throat. Once he realised what she was doing he turned away, trying to stop her, but it didn't work. In the half light they both watched in fascinated horror as the and traced its way along his neck, up and down where once his voice box was. With trembling lip firmly grasped in her teeth she turned from the monstrosity, silently weeping into her hands.
He bowed his head; he had known since he awoke what was wrong. Worse, he even recalled how those vile things had toyed with him and savagely ripped his very voice box out after his final feral roar of defiance. The scream that had brought her to him, that had probably sealed her fate. He knew that he loved her, had no wish to deny the fact, but how could he ever tell her? He would never speak again, could never tell the woman he loved, the beautiful, courageous woman crying right in front of him that she was his life. Head hanging in shame at his disability he shuffled over to where she knelt and gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his body. Tears fell from his eyes at the thought that she would never know and fell on her shoulder, soaking it through.
Neither knew how long it was they stayed that way, neither one wishing to break the contact. It felt right, it was the only place in any dimension that either would be whole: only together would they ever be truly happy. And then they came.
Since the man was still too weak to withstand any decent beating, they took the girl for their enjoyment. They had been bored while their playthings were fighting to stay alive. He tried to stop them, but what could he do, he that could not even walk? And so he did all that he could do; he cradled his love and cared for her when she was thrown back in, resembling a rag doll more than a person. This he did for the next three days, every time she came back with worse injuries than before, every time she came back closer to death. All that kept her from sinking gratefully into the blackness was her irrepressible need to be with him, the knowledge that no place, heaven, hell, or life, was worth anything to her if he were not by her side.
When she was returned with a shattered leg - splinters of bone protruding straight out of her shin - he vowed that there it would end. He had watched as they slowly killed the only thing that meant anything to him in this world, as slowly his strength returned, undetected by their captors. The next time they came to play he would be waiting, and they would die.
And so he waited in the shadows, and when they came dragging her off he crept out, silent, undetectable, and followed the giant insects into the heart of their ship. As they strung her up by their webs, he watched. As they began throwing her from side to side, he watched. As they struck her with razor sharp legs, he watched and waited for his chance. He planned to wait 'till they were so totally engrossed in their game that none would notice him until too late and then they would die. That was what he planned, but when he saw them striking harder and harder, cutting deep into her flesh, hacking her to pieces, something inside snapped. If he had had a voice left it would have soared in the most ferocious howl ever sounded, but as it was the sheer magnitude of power surrounding him was testimony enough to his rage. He knew now, he remembered. And that made him all the more powerful, all the more deadly. Trunks obliterated the bonds tying her down and rushed to her side, the insects too shocked at what they saw but did not believe to react.
Gently he lifted her head, lifted her entire body as though she weighed nothing, and stood her up. Lids half open she stared her love in the face, drowning in those inky depths. The look said more than word ever could; it described his undying passion, his irremovable love that spanned all lifetimes and all dimensions she could ever travel, but most of all and most important it told her that she did not want to be here when he lost control of his temper, that she must must MUST run as far and as fast as possible right now. And so she ran, regardless of shattered leg and grievous wounds she fled.
And then the world exploded. Trunks knew that he would probably die in his attacks, but he planned to take these pitiful aliens with him. He gathered his chi and in one infernal blast sent it careening throughout the ship.
Nothing was left, not even a trace of the horrors that had landed on and ravaged this land. Nothing save the hunched figure in the centre of a massive crater with its hands shielding its head from the death it was sure approached. Tentatively Trunks lowered his arms, and upon realising he was in fact alive he sped off in search of his love.
***
She ran, she ran until she could run no more and then she stopped, turned, and collapsed into a crying heap. It was only then that she realised she would never see him again, and no mere horrible death would keep her from him! With that decided she turned and, if possible, ran even faster back towards the ship. That is, she ran until a stray piece of ship door hit her on the head and knocked her unconscious.
***
He saw her long before he reached her, crumpled in a heap, the only variation in an otherwise featureless plain of devastation. He slowed as he neared, scooping her into his arms while still afloat and flying off into the distance.
Dark was falling when finally he stopped, and gently he lay don his precious cargo on soft grass surrounding a small stream. His heart caught as he discovered the piece of metal that sent her unconscious had imbedded itself in her skull. He was too late, he had caused her death while he remained alive. But she yet breathed.
flash: she was three, her birthday. Everyone was happy, and a huge figure with purple hair loomed over her, hugging her to his broad chest. She was happy.
flash: fourteen now, her boyfriend had just dumped her, right before the dance. She would be the laughing stock of the school. Her friend, twelve (is that right??) years older than her, offered to take her. All the girls were green with envy at her gorgeous purple-haired date. She was happy
flash: Kami's lookout, called by some mysterious force (read the first one), seeing her lifelong friend fly in, seeing him seeing her, as though he saw her for the first time, as though he only then realised the woman she had become. She was happy.
She remembered. Throughout the tired fog that was her mind it reverberated, dragging her from the dark depths to the surface of her consciousness. She remembered.
"T-T-Trunks? I'm cold, so cold. Where are you? Trunks! I can't see you!" Frantically she waved her hands about and stopped only when she felt his large, warm, strong hands grasp her small ice-cold ones. At his touch a world of regret settled upon her shoulders, regret that she would never discover what else those hands were capable of doing, regret that she had to leave him.
His fingertips trailed the beautiful contours of her face, his tears splashed upon her cheeks. His touch sent shivers down her spine, even in the throws of death, his fingers trembled on her lips, tracing their full shape, conveying his despair and his love to her, giving her the strength she needed to face death squarely and proudly. As her body sighed he felt her soul flee, felt so overwhelmingly desolate, knew that there was no life left for him. His wish to be with Pan was so strong that his own spirit left, following where hers had gone.
As both souls flew away from the terror of their last few days their unwanted husks folded over, lying crumpled and forgotten on the cold hard ground.
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White.
Pan noticed nothing else, no features, not even any ground to speak of; just the ultimate whiteness.
And then he was with her. She didn't notice 'till he grabbed her around the middle, pulling her body against his, revelling in the touch. Although both spirits looked as badly hurt as their disregarded bodies, neither felt any pain. How could they, when finally they were free to be together?
Trunks broke the embrace and lifted her face to his, kissing her more deeply than either though was possible. Tongues moved together not fighting each other but pulsating with the rhythm of their combined heartbeats. Fingers traced down backs stroking and massaging under tatters of clothes. The kiss deepened until the very cores of their beings fused and intertwined, becoming one. Finally they came up for air, staring at each other in wonder that anything could feel this magnificent, this complete. And then they were once again swept up in their fiery passion, Trunks laying Pan down on the insubstantial but cushioning ground. He then proceeded to trace kisses down her neck, nibbling on her earlobes, making her gasp and shiver with the feelings that ran through her body. Slowly he eased her out of her clothes and made love to her. There was nowhere else to either of them but there inside each other's body.
Cackling laughter reverberated through the white expanse, waking the sleepers curled together. Both snapped to attention, instantly recognising the same laughter from right before the world had exploded that first night.
"My, oh my but that was fun!" A cracked old voice echoed from out of the mist, followed shortly after by the bent figure of an old woman. There was something about her eyes; both Pan and Trunks could see the stars in her eyes, see galaxies born and destroyed in eyes older than time. "You know, my dears, I haven't been entertained so well for I don't know how long! I salute you!" Pan yelled protest at her obviously sarcastic tone, but the old woman merely waved her anger away as though it was more meaningless than a fly. "None of that, dearie. Now, I know you've been through a lot, but you must understand, I live in this little corner of the universe all alone; the last of my kind. We used to be many, but now I'm all that's left. So don't you go and get prissy at me. I thank you for the company you've given me these past few days, but now you really should be getting home." Pan and Trunks didn't think much of being this strange lady's 'entertainment', but were given no further chance to voice their complaints as they were unceremoniously hurled upwards through dimension after dimension until finally they reached pristine white walls lit by glaring fluorescent lights, two beds surrounded by weeping friends and relatives.
Stirring slightly, she let out a groan. Even in her state of fuzziness she heard all in the room gasp. ~I seem to be doing this a lot lately, waking up sore.~ Slowly, ever so slowly, Pan sat up and was instantly smothered by friends and family. Everyone was shouting and screaming and crying, but there was only one person Pan wished to see, and he was missing from the group surrounding her. Unnoticed Trunks awoke to yells of delight, well, he was unnoticed until Bulma turned from Pan's remarkable recovery to find her son staring at her in amused confusion. The he was swamped as Pan had been.
Finally the excitement had dissipated somewhat, people going for coffee, food or a lie down. Trunks looked over to find her regarding him steadily, almost hungrily. She was scared, scared that now that all was back to normal he would no longer care for her, no longer see her as a woman but as the girl she used to be. Then he smiled, looking at her with such intense adoration that she knew that no matter what, he would always love her. that he could not tell her this made looks like these all the more exciting, all the more true. So, their souls were still one. Well and good then. And then she rose, pulled off heart monitor cords and drip, and jumped him, giggling when he pulled the sheets over both their heads.
Vegeta walked back into the room, meaning to ask his son what had happened. He stopped when he spied the sheets pulled over the two lovers, a smirk spreading across his face. "So," he said, and turned, shutting the door behind him.