Disclaimer: Dragonball Z, its characters, and overall ideas, belong to the creator. This story is based more or less on "The History of Trunks" and Felix's story, "Pandora's Box." She is a wonderfully nice person and allowed me to post this.

Losing Innocence

            by Taes Willett

Chapter 2

It was finally time.

Eight months and a few skirmishes with the androids later, it was finally time to go.

Okay, okay… he thought, trying to calm himself down. He was getting more than a little nervous, and the sheer magnitude of his mission left feeling high strung and entirely too incompetent. Oh, shit. He panicked. What are their names again? Completely ignoring the fact that he'd grown up hearing stories about his mom, her friends and the so-called Z-Warriors, it was safe to assume his nerves were frying his brain. What if I forget?

What if they don't trust me? His heart stopped. What if Dad doesn't trust me? Nervously biting his lip to keep from screaming, he tried to remember everything his mother had told him.

Rule number one. Do not break the vial, and give the medicine to Goku, at all costs, and explain what it's for, and what will happen if he doesn't take it.

Rule number two. Do not, under any circumstances reveal his name. Never apologize, and never explain.

Rule number three. Stay only for as long as necessary, and not a moment longer. Don't dawdle!

Rule number four. Be polite.

Going through the guidelines his mother had instructed him on calmed him down a bit, or at least enough to think a little better. He checked his pocket for what must have been the seventieth time, trying to make sure he hadn't left the precious vial somewhere or broken it. Fortunately for him, it was unharmed. Bulma had told him he really wouldn't need to bring much by way of weapons, specifically, his sword, but he felt entirely too empty without it. Her reasoning was somewhere along the lines of Freeza, and him being weaker than the androids, and really not worth much effort.

Nevertheless, it was coming with him, whether or not he needed it. Of course, he believed his mother about Goku, but there were a few things the lavender haired half-Saiyajin needed to see for himself. Namely, he couldn't be too sure of the man's strength, technique or willingness to fight for others. That was a long time ago, and what could seem like passion now, may have been arrogance at the time. Memory had a nasty habit of glossing over the bad parts of the past, especially when concerning those gone.

Never speak ill of the dead.

"Trunks, you'd better get a move on, kid!" his mother yelled from the hanger. "I don't care if you think you have all the time in the world, because we don't know how long this so-called peace will last. The androids could be here any minute!" she seemed to think that because he was launching a plan that might just work, the androids would be on her tail in a moment, especially if she dawdled. For the past few days, she'd been a nervous wreck, checking this connection and that, trying to decide if this piece of junk would actually get moving.

Trunks was annoyed. The time machine was technically ready to leave at eleven thirty five last night, and she was the one who insisted he get a good night's sleep before attempting to pilot it. What harm could waiting a few more minutes cause? It's not like the machine would blow up if he didn't leave now…

Right?

Dear Kami, he hoped so… "Are you sure you don't want to go back? I mean, you seem to have all these precise ideas and stuff that nobody but you could conceivably get right." He couldn't keep the annoyance from his voice, though the question was-- more or less--a good one.

That stopped her. He heard her tread quietly up the stairs, and into his room, though he didn't watch her ascent. "Trunks, honey, I'm sorry I'm being a pain. But it's gotta be this way!

"I couldn't go back…Bulma from the future?" she gave a short laugh, amused and full of wit and good humor. "Come on! That'd just be too strange to handle…one of me is quite good enough for the universe, thank-you-very-much.

"But you?" her voice got softer, and smiled at her son, love and kindness, with a touch of depression beneath her large eyes. "You're so young, so passionate, and full of spirit and courage…" like Gohan. Neither of them said it, but both knew it to be true. "They'll believe you; I know they will.

"This is something only you can do and get it done right, Trunks." She paused, a look of wistfulness, regret and some embarrassment crossing her features. "Besides. I might want to stay…and I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to the world here."

He smiled, and crossed the room. "I'm glad you believe in me."

She laughed, and absently pushed a stray piece of his hair back into place, studying his appearance with a practiced eye, not even realizing she was doing so. How many years had she been doing that? He didn't know, and quite frankly, he didn't care. "How could I not?" she grinned. "You're one hell of a hero, Trunks, and don't you dare forget that."

He looked at her for a moment, and nodded, determination sealing his expression. This would work…it had to.

It had to work… would do it for his mother, for the dead, and for the sake of the world. What better reasons could there be? "I'd better go." He remarked, shuffling awkwardly. She nodded, and stood out of his way, hesitating. Then, seemingly out of sheer disregard of any and all feelings of seriousness, she stepped up and gave him a hug, nodding good-bye.

They walked downstairs without saying a word, and continued their farewells. Finally, he boarded the machine, only hesitating the last step of the way, where he turned, waved, and turned again, this time to the thing that would restore the past.

To ensure a better future, where children could be at peace. Where barely thirteen-year-old kids wouldn't loose their only friends to a pair of deadly killing machines.

Where there would be…

 Hope.

*****

Truth be told, everything went blank after he closed the door, and initiated the machine. He couldn't remember the trip at all, just the before…and the after. There was no jolt as he came to a stop, and there were no whirling, banging or other noises he associated with the word 'machine.' It just was. No dramatics, no gradual pick up before going.

It was, and then it wasn't.

First he was there, now he was here…it was a bit confusing, honestly, and he wasn't quite sure if he'd fallen asleep or not.

The scenery was similar to what he'd seen in his timeline, but somehow it was cleaner. It seemed simpler, fresher. It smelled like peace. The machine was gone, oddly enough, but there. Bulma hadn't mentioned anything about this part, she probably had assumed he'd do the same as he had to get it started, only with a different set of coordinates. They were both working on the assumption that time was more akin to a line on an x-y axis, a function, and not a circle…where the same point x could be reached in two different ways, from two opposite directions.

If the latter was more correct than the former, then they might very well end up having the exact same thing happen, only with different players.

Shit. How the hell am I supposed to get back if I can't even see the damn thing?! For an instant, panic engulfed him, sending his mind in a suicidal whirl that could very well have damaged his brain permanently. But he got a hold on himself, and cautiously felt around him. He was no longer inside anything; he was standing on a green hill, overlooking a small congregation of people…his mother among them.

His heart skipped a beat. Mom hadn't mentioned she'd be there!

Pulling his thoughts away from that particular distraction, Trunks concentrated on finding the machine, and much to his surprise, he did. Or rather, it found him.

This machine, this masterpiece of his mother's, was not quite the same as it had been when he'd first seen it. The yellow exterior with the windows and single door were no longer there…it existed completely within the boundaries of his mind. Trunks felt the blood drain from his face. Oh, shit. Mom's gonna kill me…

True, initiating the machine would take little more than a concentrated effort, but it seemed a hell of a lot easier when he only had to punch a series of buttons. Now he had the pleasure of mentally calculating several formulas that would take a few mathematicians days to solve. And he had to do it in less than a minute, of all things, in order to get the timing exactly right. Not only that, but he needed a point that he could clearly focus on.

Well, because of those little safeguards, at least he wouldn't be wishing himself home on accident. And he wouldn't have to worry about hiding the time machine, either.

And here I was thinking that would be the easy part. He thought, annoyed.

He must have made some sort of noise, for when he looked up, he was staring into the serious, almost deadly expression of a Namek that easily dwarfed him. He started, moving backwards a few steps before he regained control of his fried nerves. Piccolo…? He wondered. "Uh…" seemed to be the only word he could get out. Staring didn't seem to be like a good idea, from what his mother told him about the green skinned man, but he'd never seen anyone like him… how could someone so intimidating, so steadfast and solid, practically raise someone like Gohan?

"What are you staring at, kid?" Piccolo asked, menace flavoring his deep voice. "And what are you doing here?"

Trunks winced. Someone needed to explain to him how this guy was defeated by the androids, when he made them seem like a pair of teenage punks. "I…"

"Well? I haven't got all day!"

Kami. What a temper…! He needed to sound as calm and cool as he could, getting the idea that arrogance wouldn't go very far with this proud warrior. The man had a code of honor Trunks doubted he'd ever understand, and saying the wrong thing could make them enemies for good. Not something he wanted. Glancing at the sky to judge the time, he stopped. Stared. For the second time in less than five minutes, he paled, and looked directly at the green skinned man. "Where's…what happened to…?!"

Freeza.

His mom had been sure to tell him about that particular little nuisance. If he were anywhere near the planet by now he'd be able to sense him, as he sensed Goku. Mind whirling, Trunks stared blankly, not seeing anything. He's…that was…this couldn't…he couldn't think straight, couldn't form a coherent thought.

Pushing past the Namekian with ease that surprised him, he half flew, half ran down to the edge of the overhang, and looked down. His mother had gone over the names, faces, and personalities of the group many, many times before sending him on this mission, so he knew exactly who he was looking for. Goku was there, all right, and Freeza wasn't.

The only person he didn't recognize was a blue skinned man with long, sea green hair and violet eyes that seemed entirely too…cruel…for his liking. How could…Goku wasn't supposed to arrive for another two hours. What is going on here?

Confused, and fearing for the worst, Trunks jumped off the cliff, spinning expertly to gain the balance he'd lost with such a foolhardy act, and landing in a fighter's crouch. He stood, directly in front of the man he'd come back to save, eyes clear and mind set.

"I need to talk to you, Goku," he murmured, giving a polite bow to the older man. "It's important." His low, quiet voice carried weight in the suddenly not-so pleasant afternoon, and the tall, pale man, father of his teacher, his friend, nodded.

For an instant, nobody moved, and Trunks, not wanting to discuss anything in front of the large group, hesitated. His mother had told him to tell as few people as possible, hadn't she? Well, it was probably for a good reason. Looking a little awkward, and more like the teen he was, he cleared his throat, and looked from Goku to the surrounding crowd.

His mother's face was particularly vivid in his mind as he turned back to Goku. "I'd rather speak with you alone, if you don't mind." Perplexed, but trusting, he nodded, and waited a moment. Trunks, not wanting to alarm anyone, murmured a polite, "Excuse me," and made his way through the throng, hoping he didn't seem as odd to them as he felt.

Goku followed with an easy patience, not worried, and not afraid, despite the fact that he'd appeared out of no where, and practically demanded he surrender his safety in order to talk to a stranger he didn't know. Trunks got the feeling the man was either entirely capable of taking care of himself, or just too naïve to understand how fishy the situation was.

Somehow, it seemed more likely to be the former, and not the latter. The Saiyajin was calm, peaceful, and at ease, completely in control. It forced Trunks to take a step back, reevaluate what he knew, and take a few calming breathes before starting the conversation. They were a few hundred yards off when he started to fly upwards and out of sight. He stopped when he could no longer see the group, and the silence and easy peace of the cool air filled his mind and lungs.

Goku waited for Trunks to start, smiling slightly, despite everything. Trunks had to marvel at the sheer purity he exhibited, and wondered if this was what his mother meant. "My name is Trunks. I'm here to help you…I'm from the future." Goku nodded. Surprised at his easy acceptance, Trunks was suddenly at a loss of what to say. "In my future, Goku, you die of a heart disease that has no cure at the time." He paused, and Goku nodded, unfazed. "It's caused by the technique you learned after Freeza--"

"Instant transmission?" he asked, surprised. "But I don't feel bad at all after I do that!"

Trunks looked away, staring at a passing bird, unwilling to meet the older man's eyes. "Not yet, but later, you might…three years later, at ten in the morning, thirty miles east of West City, the androids appear. They kill everyone you know, and two thirds of the population. The entire world is left in shambles, just waiting for the androids to kill them, too." He stopped, and sighed, finally looking up.

Goku looked sad, as he expected, but not so much mournful as angry. Passion filled his voice as he spoke, and a sincere desire to help shone in the Saiyajin's eyes. "What can I do? How can I keep everyone safe?"

Not how can you help me. Not how long do I have to live. Trunks was amazed. If he'd been told what Goku had just learned, would he be so willing to help others? Could he put aside his life for them? He honestly didn't know.

Smiling tightly, Trunks looked him in the eyes. "You can fight me."

He must not have been too surprised by this admonition, for when he did attack, he was more prepared than Trunks had been willing to give him credit for. Throwing a few punches that really weren't worth much, he was surprised to see that instead of letting them get through his defenses, Goku blocked every one of them, and without leaving himself open to attack. The man was good.

Pulling back a few feet, Trunks surveyed the position of himself and his opponent, and judged the distance between them. Pushing himself up a notch and into Super Saiyajin form, he gathered as much energy as he could in a fraction of a second, and sent it whirling towards Goku.

Goku, on his part, didn't seem too surprised, and smiled a bit at the tactic. Trunks winced, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking, for pulling such an obvious move…then mentally chastised himself. He wasn't going for his abilities here, he was going for strength. It'd take more than a good tactician to defeat the androids, and he wasn't going to assume he could do everything just because he could out smart him.

Batting the energy ball aside with an easy motion, Goku didn't wait for Trunks to attack again, suddenly appearing a few feet behind him before he could even think to wonder what was going on. A light cuff across the neck told him where he'd gone, but the depth of the strength he'd used wasn't nearly enough to faze him.

"No games, Goku," he murmured, and sped toward him at a speed he hadn't realized he could reach. He tried to make himself believe it was his fault Gohan had died, because if he'd been alive, this man who seemed so sure that everything would turn out for the best, then Gohan wouldn't have needed to fight. He wanted to believe that with his help, the androids would have been gone long ago, and the path of destruction they paved with them.

This resulted in a blow that was enough to daze the Saiyajin, and gave Trunks enough room to set up another attack, but not without compromising some time. In the few seconds it took for him to continue his assault, Goku transformed from a half-smiling father amused at this young man's behavior to a half-serious man wanting to give a few pointers to the young and foolhardy.

Pausing in mid air, Goku casually leaned out of the way of Trunks' kick, looking curiously at the boy. "Try moving your arm a little more like this," he advised, crooking his arm at a peculiar angle and coming from the left to hit a spot of empty air. "You'll get the same effect, and with less energy."

What kind of man advised his opponents after being attacked like that?

Annoyed, and embarrassed, Trunks renewed his determination, pulling his sword from its sheathe. This Goku didn't expect, but instead of vanishing out of the way, he stopped the blade with an open palm, jarring Trunks to the point of misconception. He'd thought the man had seriously made an attack, and planned on killing him the first instant he got.

Furious, and more than a little frustrated, Trunks retracted his blade and lunged, giving way to the anger that built inside him.

"Calm down a little, you're getting sloppy!" Goku yelped, barely dodging his sword. It continued like this for less than a minute, but Goku didn't seem to want to finish it like this, and disappeared out of Trunks' reach for a moment. Whirling around, certain he was behind him again, he readied for another attack.

No one was there.

Then, "Ka…" somewhere above him, he heard Goku's voice falling down like rain, determined, but gentle. "Me…" he sent wave after wave of chi energy towards that point, but Goku was long gone before then, and the voice seemed to come from to his left and below, now. "Ha…me…" leaning out of the way and blasting the life out of a nearby tree, Trunks panicked. Gohan used this attack, but not very often…it required concentration, time, and a significant amount of energy to be effective, but the results it yielded were far more potent than any other attack he could construct. Already, he could feel the immense energy being pulled from the one man that he had to trust, whether he liked it or not, and the result wasn't exactly telling him what he wanted to know. "HA!"

Desperately trying to block an attack he knew he'd be no match for, Trunks set his hands and waited, building defenses that wouldn't stand up against much of anything, let alone this tsunami. As he began to feel the peculiar energy that came with all chi blasts, and began to see the heart of the concentrated attack, it turned up and out, well away from him and everyone else.

It exploded into a shimmering rain cloud of crystal shards, each a perfect imitation of spring rain, and each perfectly harmless. Beautiful.

Well, he'd certainly made his point. Goku certainly didn't have to miss. Trunks smiled, and searched for the man. Now that their little battle was over, he wasn't hard to find. "Goku!" he called, and held up the tiny vial for him to see. He looked for a moment at the vial, then at Trunks, a little confused. Gently throwing the little thing towards the taller Saiyajin, he let his smile widen, and nodded politely. "When you start to feel sick, take that. You'll be better in a few days…make sure you don't lose it, though. Mom would kill me if you did…"

Goku laughed. His mom had a thing for coming up with personality checks just by listening to someone laugh…you could tell what kind of person they were. By listening to Goku, Trunks got the distinct impression that he was probably the most pure, innocent person he'd ever have the chance of meeting, and the most loving, dedicated man the world could want. Father. Friend. Defender. "You're Bulma's son, aren't you?" he asked finally, amused. "You look like her…you've even got her dad's hair." He said with a grin. "And…Vegeta's?" he guessed.

Trunks did a double take. No one mentioned anything about Goku being observant; they'd only talked about him being a little goofy, forgetful, and naïve. Aside from his dedicated, scary side. So how could he have guessed he was Vegeta and Bulma's son when he didn't know anything about that? That was just odd. "Uh. Yeah."

Goku laughed again, this time out of happiness, and grinned wider. "That's great! I was getting worried about Vegeta…he hasn't been the same since Namek…I hope things turn out okay for them."

Studying Goku with new respect, Trunks lifted an eyebrow. "Why? What's wrong with…Dad?" it felt odd, to call someone he didn't even know his father.

Goku frowned. "I dunno…he drinks a lot, and doesn't talk to anybody, really. It's like he's not really here." He shrugged, and scratched his head, obviously puzzled by the only other full-blooded Saiyajin alive. "And he doesn't get along with Zarbon, either…"

"Who's that?" Trunks asked, speaking so quickly he almost lost track of what he said. "Is he that blue guy? Mom never mentioned him…wait a second. Are they involved?" he blushed. Did he really want to know the answer to that?

Goku nodded.

"Uh. Could you not tell them about who I am…? I mean, it could mess things up…or influencing the future any more than I have to. I'll be back in three years, okay?" he didn't wait for Goku's answer. "They're really strong, Goku. Stronger than anyone you've met so far. They killed everyone…even Gohan." With that, he smiled sadly, and concentrated on his mother's lab, plugging in the numbers that would take him home.

Home. Where nothing but bloodshed awaited him.

He didn't hear Goku say goodbye.

*****

tbc…

Next chapter should be up by Friday the 25th of October.

Thank you, May and Trunk's Lover for reviewing! Comments make me all happy-glowy (a.k.a. deliriously  happy). Reviews, critiques and rants are always welcome. Thanks for your time.