Disclaimer—I don't own Pokemon! Oh, err, this is a DBZ fic, huh! Well, I
don't own them either!
A/N—Ok, I know I haven't worked on this fic in like a MONTH, and I know that you've all been asking me too. Well, the only explanation I have is, I was infected with a horrible and HIDEOUS disease called writers block. The first five paragraphs have been done for about three weeks. I'd just take it out, and sit here, and stare at it. Such is the horror of writers block. Fortunately, a new antibiotic was developed, and I am completely cured of its influence! Yay me! Hopefully I won't have a relapse! I am posting this now, and going back immediately to start the next chapter so I promise, in order to make up for the long delay, I will have the next chapter out tomorrow. Sorry again, but I hope you like this chapter—finally some resolution!
_______________
Mirai Pan stomped edgily across the lawn, followed by her mother, and—her father. Her father. M. Pan snorted to herself as they walked past tables of food, and people who looked like caterers—apparently the Briefs were having a party.
M. Pan rubbed her forehead, seeking out an appropriate place for this discussion. Ha—who'd have ever thought she'd be planning a nice long TALK with her FATHER of all people?
Years ago, M. Pan had vowed to herself that if she ever met her father, the bastard would die by her hand, whatever it took. She still didn't quite know why she was breaking that promise.
Mirai Pan glanced over her shoulder at her mother, and the man trailing behind her. Maybe it was because he didn't look like she'd always imagined him—he was too short—there were no fangs, no drool. M. Pan snorted at the childish image she had always held of her father—a monster—a drooling ogre. But this man behind her—he held no resemblance to that picture. He was almost—bookish. He looked like he belonged in a library, or a classroom. Perhaps it was because M. Trunks had vouched for him—M. Pan trusted her husband—the first and only person she had trusted since her mother had died, and he said he knew him—knew her father.
Pan stopped abruptly in the shade of a large tree far enough away from the main house that the clink of metal made by the caterers barely registered in her sensitive ears. She turned to face the man who was her father, and for the first time, looked him straight in the eye.
They were—kind eyes. Eyes filled with a depth of confusion that was only mirrored in her own. Pan attempted nonchalance, "So, uh, what's this about you being my father?"
Gohan looked at Videl, who in turn nodded at him. "Well, I met Videl in high school," Gohan explained, "We were married, and several years later, you, or rather the you of this time, came along…" Gohan looked at Videl plaintively, not really knowing what to say. Why did Pan hate him so much? According to Trunks he'd been a good enough guy in the future…
Videl sighed and came to his rescue. "Pan? What made you attack Gohan like that? How is it that you didn't know he was your father?"
Pan drew a trembling breath. How to explain? One of the foundation principles of her identity had just been ripped away from her, and now she felt—lost. "Well," Pan began hesitantly, looking only at Videl, "You see, in MY world, you died when I was ten years old." Pan ignored the looks of shock and pity that crossed her parent's features. "I was left alone—I—well, I never knew my father's name, but you told me that you were in love. After a few years on the streets I figured," Pan hesitated again, but plowed on, "Well, I figured the story of my parents in love was just a comforting lie you cooked up for me—so I wouldn't feel like a burden," Pan finished somewhat bitterly.
"But, what do you mean, Pan," asked Gohan gently, "why would Videl have lied to you?"
Pan shook her head angrily, "What do I mean? How many fourteen year old girls do you know who are engaged and in love, FATHER," she spat out, "And if you were in love, where did you go? She wouldn't have been the first little girl raped and left with a growing belly, FATHER," Pan bit off, dashing unwanted tears from her eyes with one angry fist.
Gohan was shocked—Pan had thought that she was a product of rape?! A feeling of righteous anger grew in Gohan's stomach. It was anger on his own behalf, and Videl's, but mostly on Pan's. What kind of a world had his little girl grown up in, seeing such terrible things—what kind of world made a child believe in rape and hatred more easily that in love?
Videl seeming to echo his thoughts looked sadly at the girl who was her daughter—refugee from a broken reality, "Pan? Whatever made you think such a thing?"
Rubbing the scars on her wrists, remnants of her failed suicide attempt, Pan answered in a whisper, almost as if she were talking to herself, "It made sense. It doesn't matter how strong you are…" Looking up at her mother with wild, tear filled eyes, Pan pleaded, "Don't you see? You were strong…I was strong…it didn't matter though—it didn't matter how strong I was—it just made sense!"
A horror filled realization came over Gohan as he looked at the pale, clenched fists of his daughter, and the even paler scars crossing them. As Videl drew the silently weeping Mirai Pan into her arms, Gohan cautiously approached, and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder.
She let him.
_____________
Mirai Trunks whirled to face his father as the door to the Gravity Chamber slammed shut. "What do you want to speak to me about, father," Mirai Trunks asked, his face immobile.
Vegeta glared at his son from the future, "You know damn well what I want to talk to you about, brat. What the hell was that earlier?!"
"What was what, father," M. Trunks asked, knowing perfectly well what Vegeta was talking about.
Vegeta's glare could easily have seared skin, "You know exactly what I'm talking about, brat. You. Showing up in a gi, not telling me who the hell you were, letting me beat the crap out of you—what the hell was that?!"
Mirai Trunks' eyes narrowed, "What about it? You show up at the door, ready to kick my ass—how was I supposed to know what you were thinking?"
Vegeta snorted, "I was waiting for the other brat—we were supposed to spar. Now, why were you letting me beat you like that—what kind of game were you playing—I don't need you to 'let' me win, brat—got that? Now, fight me!" Vegeta growled, crouching down in sparring stance.
Across the room, Mirai Trunks's eyes narrowed. *Just like father,* he thought bitterly to himself, *everything's always about him. Him and his damned pride!*
Mirai Trunks rushed at Vegeta, enraged beyond reason, and threw a kick straight at the older man's head. Dodging, Vegeta grabbed Trunks' leg and slammed him into the wall of the gravity room.
As the two scuffled and exchanged blow after blow, Vegeta couldn't help but marvel at how far his son had come. For Mirai Trunks, it had been a mere seven years since the Cell games—to improve so much in such a short time was phenomenal. Vegeta couldn't help but wonder if the boy had reached Super Saiyan 2 yet—he had been so close during the Cell games—on the cusp. Deciding to find out, Vegeta powered up and grabbed M. Trunks from behind, pinning his arms to his side.
As Trunks felt Vegeta's ki surge, and his arms were pinned to his side, his anger took over and his inhibitions slid away. With an incoherent roar of rage, he ascended to Super Saiyan 2.
Vegeta let the ascended Mirai Trunks break his hold on him. When Trunks had transformed, Vegeta felt something stir inside of him. It was a feeling that was elusively hard to identify—envy was definitely a part of it—envy that his son had become so powerful, so young. Regret that he himself had been unable to attain such power at that point in his own life. He had been a slave to Frieza when he was this Trunks' age, and destined to remain so for many more years—first as a slave to a tyrant, then as a slave to himself, and his own pride. And lastly, laced through all of the other emotions, and overriding them, was pride. Pride at what his son had become.
He had always felt a sort of kinship with the boy he had only known for such a short time—his son, who carried such pain in his eyes—pain that Vegeta knew so well. He had been glad that the Trunks in this time had achieved his majority without experiencing such pain, but at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder what had become of his Mirai son—what he had done, how he had grown, what he had gone on to become. And now he knew.
Standing straight, a small smile spread over Vegeta's face. Trunks looked on in confusion—what did his father want? "Come on, brat," Vegeta jerked his head, "Discussion over."
Mirai Trunks glared angrily at his father, "What? Over—you haven't pounded me into the floor yet, father—I know you want to, so why don't we just get this over with and stop playing games?"
Vegeta's gaze grew puzzled, and then just a hint remorseful as things came clear. "Earlier—that's why you let me beat you—because you thought that I wouldn't listen otherwise, isn't it?" Vegeta asked, uncommonly insightful.
Trunks' eyes grew puzzled at the question, and at the hint of remorse he had seen in his father's eyes. Then he hardened—no, it was a trap to put him off guard—he couldn't let himself be drawn in. M. Trunks glowered, and said nothing, crouching lower, on guard against attack.
Vegeta sighed inwardly and returned to his fighting crouch. If Mirai Trunks needed convincing that he'd changed, he'd just have to give it to him.
______________
Chibi Goku and Chibi Vegeta sat bored on the living room couch as Goku explained things to Trunks and Pan who were rapidly regaining the color in their faces, and glancing at each other from the corners of their eyes with shy, incredulous looks. Chibi Goku and Vegeta were bored. Very VERY bored.
*Hey, Go-chan,* Chibi Vegeta contacted his brother.
A mental yawn resounded through their link, *Yeah, Veggie?* Chibi Goku replied, more than half asleep.
*Let's go do something. I'm boooooooored!*
*Umm, well, what do you think we should do, Veggie,* Chibi Goku replied, blinking and rubbing his eyes.
Chibi Vegeta's eyes fastened on Bra as she descended the stairs. The poor girl looked distinctly relieved that she was no longer seeing double, and, throwing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her yellow sundress and went out the back door, eager to join the party that was now in full swing. Bra never even noticed that she had suddenly gained a pair of shadows as she exited into the sunlight, and made a beeline towards Goten, who was, of course, loitering near the buffet.
Chibi Goku blinked at the bright sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the bush that he and Veggie were hiding in. *Do you think we should go out there, Veggie?* Chibi Goku asked his twin, telepathically.
Chibi Vegeta had spotted their grandmother with the blue hair, sitting in a remote corner talking animatedly with the woman with black hair who had been hugging them earlier—what had their names been? Bulma, and…Chi- Chi—yeah, that was it. Chibi Vegeta nodded at his twin—if their grandmother and their great-grandmother were out there, then it was probably alright—they were in the presence of friends.
Walking cautiously from cover, the Chibi's looked around at the gathering in wonder. They'd never seen so many people in one place before! Well, at least so many people who weren't chasing them, or trying to kill them. It was kinda scary—not being afraid after such a long time—knowing they were safe. And they WERE safe. Daddy had said they would be in this time, so it had to be true.
Lost in thought, Veggie bumped into a short man with black hair and—NO NOSE?! Veggie blinked a bit timidly as the man chuckled and brushed himself off, then turned to look curiously at him.
Krillin blinked at what he saw before him. He had been walking along, minding his own business, when suddenly he had bumped into something. And now, upon closer examination, he saw that this SOMETHING was a small child—and that small child had a mirror image standing right behind him! Krillin cleared his throat, and smiled down at the obviously nervous chibi. "Hi, my name's Krillin. What's your name?"
Chibi Vegeta looked nervously at his brother, then answered, "My name's Vegeta, and this is my brother, Goku." Chibi Goku smiled, and waved a little.
Krillin blinked. Their names were VEGETA AND GOKU?! And that smile—when Chibi Goku had smiled, he had definitely looked like his namesake. Chibi Goku had the trademark Son Grin. Shaking his head to clear away his growing astonishment, Krillin looked down at the two chibi's before him. They looked just like—Trunks! Was it possible—did Trunks have children? Looking at their nervous, skittish smiles, Krillin decided that now wasn't the best time to quiz them. "Well, nice to meet you guys! How about we get some food?"
The chibi's eyes widened, and their tongues lolled out. Completely forgetting their previous apprehensions, Veggie and Go-chan dragged their new friend off towards the buffet, and straight towards Bra and Goten—their uncle and aunt—whether any of them knew it or not.
***R&R Please, next chapter out soon, I promise!***
A/N—Ok, I know I haven't worked on this fic in like a MONTH, and I know that you've all been asking me too. Well, the only explanation I have is, I was infected with a horrible and HIDEOUS disease called writers block. The first five paragraphs have been done for about three weeks. I'd just take it out, and sit here, and stare at it. Such is the horror of writers block. Fortunately, a new antibiotic was developed, and I am completely cured of its influence! Yay me! Hopefully I won't have a relapse! I am posting this now, and going back immediately to start the next chapter so I promise, in order to make up for the long delay, I will have the next chapter out tomorrow. Sorry again, but I hope you like this chapter—finally some resolution!
_______________
Mirai Pan stomped edgily across the lawn, followed by her mother, and—her father. Her father. M. Pan snorted to herself as they walked past tables of food, and people who looked like caterers—apparently the Briefs were having a party.
M. Pan rubbed her forehead, seeking out an appropriate place for this discussion. Ha—who'd have ever thought she'd be planning a nice long TALK with her FATHER of all people?
Years ago, M. Pan had vowed to herself that if she ever met her father, the bastard would die by her hand, whatever it took. She still didn't quite know why she was breaking that promise.
Mirai Pan glanced over her shoulder at her mother, and the man trailing behind her. Maybe it was because he didn't look like she'd always imagined him—he was too short—there were no fangs, no drool. M. Pan snorted at the childish image she had always held of her father—a monster—a drooling ogre. But this man behind her—he held no resemblance to that picture. He was almost—bookish. He looked like he belonged in a library, or a classroom. Perhaps it was because M. Trunks had vouched for him—M. Pan trusted her husband—the first and only person she had trusted since her mother had died, and he said he knew him—knew her father.
Pan stopped abruptly in the shade of a large tree far enough away from the main house that the clink of metal made by the caterers barely registered in her sensitive ears. She turned to face the man who was her father, and for the first time, looked him straight in the eye.
They were—kind eyes. Eyes filled with a depth of confusion that was only mirrored in her own. Pan attempted nonchalance, "So, uh, what's this about you being my father?"
Gohan looked at Videl, who in turn nodded at him. "Well, I met Videl in high school," Gohan explained, "We were married, and several years later, you, or rather the you of this time, came along…" Gohan looked at Videl plaintively, not really knowing what to say. Why did Pan hate him so much? According to Trunks he'd been a good enough guy in the future…
Videl sighed and came to his rescue. "Pan? What made you attack Gohan like that? How is it that you didn't know he was your father?"
Pan drew a trembling breath. How to explain? One of the foundation principles of her identity had just been ripped away from her, and now she felt—lost. "Well," Pan began hesitantly, looking only at Videl, "You see, in MY world, you died when I was ten years old." Pan ignored the looks of shock and pity that crossed her parent's features. "I was left alone—I—well, I never knew my father's name, but you told me that you were in love. After a few years on the streets I figured," Pan hesitated again, but plowed on, "Well, I figured the story of my parents in love was just a comforting lie you cooked up for me—so I wouldn't feel like a burden," Pan finished somewhat bitterly.
"But, what do you mean, Pan," asked Gohan gently, "why would Videl have lied to you?"
Pan shook her head angrily, "What do I mean? How many fourteen year old girls do you know who are engaged and in love, FATHER," she spat out, "And if you were in love, where did you go? She wouldn't have been the first little girl raped and left with a growing belly, FATHER," Pan bit off, dashing unwanted tears from her eyes with one angry fist.
Gohan was shocked—Pan had thought that she was a product of rape?! A feeling of righteous anger grew in Gohan's stomach. It was anger on his own behalf, and Videl's, but mostly on Pan's. What kind of a world had his little girl grown up in, seeing such terrible things—what kind of world made a child believe in rape and hatred more easily that in love?
Videl seeming to echo his thoughts looked sadly at the girl who was her daughter—refugee from a broken reality, "Pan? Whatever made you think such a thing?"
Rubbing the scars on her wrists, remnants of her failed suicide attempt, Pan answered in a whisper, almost as if she were talking to herself, "It made sense. It doesn't matter how strong you are…" Looking up at her mother with wild, tear filled eyes, Pan pleaded, "Don't you see? You were strong…I was strong…it didn't matter though—it didn't matter how strong I was—it just made sense!"
A horror filled realization came over Gohan as he looked at the pale, clenched fists of his daughter, and the even paler scars crossing them. As Videl drew the silently weeping Mirai Pan into her arms, Gohan cautiously approached, and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder.
She let him.
_____________
Mirai Trunks whirled to face his father as the door to the Gravity Chamber slammed shut. "What do you want to speak to me about, father," Mirai Trunks asked, his face immobile.
Vegeta glared at his son from the future, "You know damn well what I want to talk to you about, brat. What the hell was that earlier?!"
"What was what, father," M. Trunks asked, knowing perfectly well what Vegeta was talking about.
Vegeta's glare could easily have seared skin, "You know exactly what I'm talking about, brat. You. Showing up in a gi, not telling me who the hell you were, letting me beat the crap out of you—what the hell was that?!"
Mirai Trunks' eyes narrowed, "What about it? You show up at the door, ready to kick my ass—how was I supposed to know what you were thinking?"
Vegeta snorted, "I was waiting for the other brat—we were supposed to spar. Now, why were you letting me beat you like that—what kind of game were you playing—I don't need you to 'let' me win, brat—got that? Now, fight me!" Vegeta growled, crouching down in sparring stance.
Across the room, Mirai Trunks's eyes narrowed. *Just like father,* he thought bitterly to himself, *everything's always about him. Him and his damned pride!*
Mirai Trunks rushed at Vegeta, enraged beyond reason, and threw a kick straight at the older man's head. Dodging, Vegeta grabbed Trunks' leg and slammed him into the wall of the gravity room.
As the two scuffled and exchanged blow after blow, Vegeta couldn't help but marvel at how far his son had come. For Mirai Trunks, it had been a mere seven years since the Cell games—to improve so much in such a short time was phenomenal. Vegeta couldn't help but wonder if the boy had reached Super Saiyan 2 yet—he had been so close during the Cell games—on the cusp. Deciding to find out, Vegeta powered up and grabbed M. Trunks from behind, pinning his arms to his side.
As Trunks felt Vegeta's ki surge, and his arms were pinned to his side, his anger took over and his inhibitions slid away. With an incoherent roar of rage, he ascended to Super Saiyan 2.
Vegeta let the ascended Mirai Trunks break his hold on him. When Trunks had transformed, Vegeta felt something stir inside of him. It was a feeling that was elusively hard to identify—envy was definitely a part of it—envy that his son had become so powerful, so young. Regret that he himself had been unable to attain such power at that point in his own life. He had been a slave to Frieza when he was this Trunks' age, and destined to remain so for many more years—first as a slave to a tyrant, then as a slave to himself, and his own pride. And lastly, laced through all of the other emotions, and overriding them, was pride. Pride at what his son had become.
He had always felt a sort of kinship with the boy he had only known for such a short time—his son, who carried such pain in his eyes—pain that Vegeta knew so well. He had been glad that the Trunks in this time had achieved his majority without experiencing such pain, but at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder what had become of his Mirai son—what he had done, how he had grown, what he had gone on to become. And now he knew.
Standing straight, a small smile spread over Vegeta's face. Trunks looked on in confusion—what did his father want? "Come on, brat," Vegeta jerked his head, "Discussion over."
Mirai Trunks glared angrily at his father, "What? Over—you haven't pounded me into the floor yet, father—I know you want to, so why don't we just get this over with and stop playing games?"
Vegeta's gaze grew puzzled, and then just a hint remorseful as things came clear. "Earlier—that's why you let me beat you—because you thought that I wouldn't listen otherwise, isn't it?" Vegeta asked, uncommonly insightful.
Trunks' eyes grew puzzled at the question, and at the hint of remorse he had seen in his father's eyes. Then he hardened—no, it was a trap to put him off guard—he couldn't let himself be drawn in. M. Trunks glowered, and said nothing, crouching lower, on guard against attack.
Vegeta sighed inwardly and returned to his fighting crouch. If Mirai Trunks needed convincing that he'd changed, he'd just have to give it to him.
______________
Chibi Goku and Chibi Vegeta sat bored on the living room couch as Goku explained things to Trunks and Pan who were rapidly regaining the color in their faces, and glancing at each other from the corners of their eyes with shy, incredulous looks. Chibi Goku and Vegeta were bored. Very VERY bored.
*Hey, Go-chan,* Chibi Vegeta contacted his brother.
A mental yawn resounded through their link, *Yeah, Veggie?* Chibi Goku replied, more than half asleep.
*Let's go do something. I'm boooooooored!*
*Umm, well, what do you think we should do, Veggie,* Chibi Goku replied, blinking and rubbing his eyes.
Chibi Vegeta's eyes fastened on Bra as she descended the stairs. The poor girl looked distinctly relieved that she was no longer seeing double, and, throwing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her yellow sundress and went out the back door, eager to join the party that was now in full swing. Bra never even noticed that she had suddenly gained a pair of shadows as she exited into the sunlight, and made a beeline towards Goten, who was, of course, loitering near the buffet.
Chibi Goku blinked at the bright sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the bush that he and Veggie were hiding in. *Do you think we should go out there, Veggie?* Chibi Goku asked his twin, telepathically.
Chibi Vegeta had spotted their grandmother with the blue hair, sitting in a remote corner talking animatedly with the woman with black hair who had been hugging them earlier—what had their names been? Bulma, and…Chi- Chi—yeah, that was it. Chibi Vegeta nodded at his twin—if their grandmother and their great-grandmother were out there, then it was probably alright—they were in the presence of friends.
Walking cautiously from cover, the Chibi's looked around at the gathering in wonder. They'd never seen so many people in one place before! Well, at least so many people who weren't chasing them, or trying to kill them. It was kinda scary—not being afraid after such a long time—knowing they were safe. And they WERE safe. Daddy had said they would be in this time, so it had to be true.
Lost in thought, Veggie bumped into a short man with black hair and—NO NOSE?! Veggie blinked a bit timidly as the man chuckled and brushed himself off, then turned to look curiously at him.
Krillin blinked at what he saw before him. He had been walking along, minding his own business, when suddenly he had bumped into something. And now, upon closer examination, he saw that this SOMETHING was a small child—and that small child had a mirror image standing right behind him! Krillin cleared his throat, and smiled down at the obviously nervous chibi. "Hi, my name's Krillin. What's your name?"
Chibi Vegeta looked nervously at his brother, then answered, "My name's Vegeta, and this is my brother, Goku." Chibi Goku smiled, and waved a little.
Krillin blinked. Their names were VEGETA AND GOKU?! And that smile—when Chibi Goku had smiled, he had definitely looked like his namesake. Chibi Goku had the trademark Son Grin. Shaking his head to clear away his growing astonishment, Krillin looked down at the two chibi's before him. They looked just like—Trunks! Was it possible—did Trunks have children? Looking at their nervous, skittish smiles, Krillin decided that now wasn't the best time to quiz them. "Well, nice to meet you guys! How about we get some food?"
The chibi's eyes widened, and their tongues lolled out. Completely forgetting their previous apprehensions, Veggie and Go-chan dragged their new friend off towards the buffet, and straight towards Bra and Goten—their uncle and aunt—whether any of them knew it or not.
***R&R Please, next chapter out soon, I promise!***