Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z isn't mine, nor is anything else remotely related to the said show. I'm making no money. Credit must go where it's due, namely to the creator of the show, producers, production people and such. On a more personal note, thanks and credit are due to Felix for allowing me to do this. Go read her story.
Losing Innocence
by Taes Willett
Chapter 5Sometimes when he looked up into the stars, Trunks could almost see what Whoever made the universe was thinking in creating life. Most other times it seemed like an awfully bad idea, really. Why form something that's just going to up and die? When life isn't stubbornly trying to resist the natural order of things, like dying, for instance, it was fighting. People especially . . . bloodthirsty things required war, and war required huge amounts of unnecessary death to be called successful.
But looking up to the heavens, watching the pure starlight shine through deep, dreamy amethyst, so dark it was nearly black as raven's wing, he could see what They might've been thinking.
There really is something about life that's just completely thrilling. Unpredictable. The motives for living, for thriving, could be lost and found again in an eye blink, but their grace-- even if emotional rather than physical --was always there. A plant, for instance, with its green wisps of incomprehensible exquisiteness, would stretch for the sun's light. It was something to marvel at, how something that didn't think in the same way people did could still find what it needed through instinct alone. That's what it had to do . . . or it would die.
Trunks smiled vaguely, back to that old subject again, hm? Well, I guess when you spend your entire life fighting for others to live it would show up often enough . . . he sighed. He'd come out here to be alone. And to digest his father's words, to be sure, but mostly to just get away from that damned Zarbon . . . he snorted quietly, wondering what he thought he was pulling. And he says Vegeta has a pension for causing pain . . .well, at least his is the sort that goes away. He was willing to bet the 'mere' memory of what Zarbon had said would stay with Vegeta for a long, long time.
Rolling over, Trunks left off his thoughts of the universe and the meaning behind it, listening with half an ear to the rolling of the waves. Tiny pink flowers grew among the blades of grass over in a little patch, not too far from where he lay. The small things were nothing out of the ordinary, just flowers of the common variety; they had petals like drawings from a kid's coloring book, and everything else about them were distinctly plain. To him, though, they seemed more beautiful than anything else. Except, maybe, for his mother's smile . . .
Oh, Kami . . . he said it was true. How could it be? In his heart, he knew he really meant 'no. Not my Dad. It's somebody else's, but never mine; it couldn't be my Dad, or it'd be true for me, too.' He sighed again, and stared into the midnight sky.
"Whatcha doing out here, all alone?" someone queried, interrupting his thoughts. "Not interested in the party?" That voice was low, gloriously smooth and soft as smoke in the morning sunrise. The voice held a tinge of shadows mystery and some of the flowers he'd been watching, filled with a peculiarly androgynous beauty.
Looking up in surprise, Trunks silently chastised himself for letting his guard down. He knew no one who spoke like that . . . what his eyes confirmed shocked him even further. The speaker, with their melodious, quiet tone, was nothing short of stunning. They had an oddly genderless appearance as well, and the flowing robes reminded him of what angels were characteristically said to wear; some loose shift that concealed everything, designed to remove the smallest hint of sensuality.
It was their face that drew his attention. Pale, with dark eyes like the sky above them, they brought new meaning to the word 'beautiful.' The fire in their features was capable of murder, should one look too long upon this magnificent creature.
To top it all off, long, dark tresses fell in loose curls, a sort of wave that further added to the softness of the person. The hair framed that snowy skin, and the silken strands matched the deep black of the eyes.
Somehow he managed to find the words he sought. "No, no that's not it . . . I just wanted . . ."
A smile, warm and understanding filled their features with an incomparable sense of wonder and love. "To be alone?" a child's smile could be no more innocent; an angel's grace could be no more flawless than this mystifying beauty.
Trunks echoed their smile, but it swiftly passed from his face. "I feel like I'm drowning." He shook his head slowly, and sighed. "Too much, too fast." Looking at the fiery being, he raised an eyebrow. "My name is Trunks, by the way." He paused. "And you are . . .?"
"A messenger," came the reply. "Simply a messenger."
Trunks frowned, not trusting that answer. The chick that trusted the fox, with its cunning stories and sly smile, was surely a fool . . . and a dead one at that. "A messenger of whose?"
"Not God's, if that's what you mean." Rich laughter filled the quiet ocean side, reminding Trunks of spring rain. Eyes that made the sky seem a pale imitation of something truly wonderful rolled heavenwards, faint amusement glimmering like sunlight on water beneath the façade. "I get that too much . . . this humble message boy is most certainly not an angel of the Name." The perplexing young man winked. "I'm only mortal, after all . . ."
'Message boy' he said? Hmm. So perhaps my soul-nurturing stranger is male, Trunks thought, vaguely amused. "And your name?"
"Red."
Trunks raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. His name was hardly considered 'normal,' so who was he to pass judgment? With some effort, he drew his eyes from the exquisite apparition, looking again to the moonlit waters. "What do you want . . .?"
"As a messenger I bring messages." Smiling reassuringly, he walked forward, sitting gracelessly next to the sprawled half-Saiyajin. "You don't know how far I had to go to actually find you . . ." he grinned wryly, and Trunks was somewhat alarmed to see how easily they talked . . . almost as if he were a long time friend of Trunks' . . . one whom he'd accidentally forgotten to forward his new address to, but had surely known all his life. "I must say, Trunks, you certainly get around." Again midnight eyes searched the heavens, but this time there was no mockery to be found.
Trunks echoed this stranger's emotions unintentionally, and looked to the sky once more. "Who is the message from?" he asked quietly. Suspense held his heart in place; squeezing the patience he might have received from his mind, demanding answer now.
Could this have anything to do with my father?
Slowly he found himself looking into Red's eyes, where the universes he found were caught between despair and some unnamed force. Green, space was green, but looking into this man's eyes, he thought the cosmos another color . . . Wait . . . universes? He wondered. "Kid, that part's not important. You know who it's from, little one, you know it in your heart of hearts . . ."
The half-Saiyajin frowned. This 'Red' character couldn't be much older than he was, so why'd he have to go and call him 'kid,' of all things? His irritation faded fast when the man began to speak again. The sheer beauty of his words kept him enthralled, and his easy grace and familiarity kept him a mystery.
"There will be time enough for messages, Trunks. I serve an organization higher than you'd think . . . but my Order is not known to you. As I've said, I bring news, but I also appoint roles, leading those who are destined to be led where they must go." A pause. "If you're not the one, then there will be another. That's the way of things . . ."
This is getting a little too cryptic for me . . . "Destiny?" he wondered. "You say there are 'those who are destined' but if there's such thing as destiny, then why should time travel be possible? We can change our so-called Fates."
Laughter sparkled across his face, dancing from eyes to mouth, flowing downward until his shoulders shook with it. "Kid, listen for a minute, there's nothing wrong with your ears. Destiny's not set in stone! Whoever gave you that idea was either particularly dense, or misinformed. It's . . . well, it's like water." He hesitated, struggling for words. "Or maybe a river . . . fluent. Changing. It's always been that way; everything from the smallest of circumstances to the great events of your day influences it. There are endless possibilities, and with every complication you add, even more outcomes are spit out." Chuckling to himself, he shook his head, looking with some affection to the surroundings. "I'd love to figure out the way it works, but I'm not entirely sure there's a particular way for even destiny to happen." A smile. "It all changes, you know.
"Without this flexibility, how could the world happen? What's the point? If you're life is already figured out, from the moment you came screaming and kicking into the world to the time when you got bit by some fucking mosquito and died, what'd be the point in living it? There'd be no surprises." Tossing a strand of dark curls over his shoulder, Red looked at Trunks, trying to make sure he followed.
"How would we even know, though? We could live out our lives thinking we were making our own choices, even if we weren't. How would we know?" the moonlit night wasn't seeming nearly as interesting as it had before this boy had shown up out of nowhere. He felt no need for worry, strangely enough; he knew Red wouldn't hurt him. Not if he had some message for him . . . not unless that message is my death, he thought bleakly.
There was silence for a moment, strained and painful. "You'd know." Red murmured, looking away. "Believe me, you'd know." Both were silent for a while, watching where the stars and waters collected, observing the mystery that was life. Back and forth the wind would blow, creating ripples over chaotic oceans. A bird would call out, searching for food and complaining when it found none. The stars shone with their customary light, neither winking nor sparkling, just there. The grass stirred, and somewhere above them, storm clouds gathered, dropping rain and thunder without their notice or consent.
Lightening flashed and thunder rumbled. Somewhere ahead of them, the waves crashed, wind soared, and any birds that remained quickly made their way out of there until only the two of them, one half alien, and one being unknown to anyone, remained above water.
"One," Red murmured. He looked up into the rain, and closed his eyes. Letting the water, so clear and pure, fall down his cheeks, he smiled. It fell like tears down his face, but the smile bespoke that image, and the drops dripped from high cheekbones to the base of his head, clumping his hair into thick ringlets. His white shift was soaked through, clinging to his slender body, and mud colored the hems of the sleeves. His shoes were similarly covered in dirt, but none of this took away from his loveliness.
"That's all anyone gets, Trunks. Whether they're human, Saiyajin, an apple tree or a universe, that's all we get. One lifetime. No matter how long, you only live your life once." He didn't seem at all discouraged by this; rather he seemed to delight in it, savoring the words as he savored the rain. "Death defines life. And besides, it wouldn't be the same, if you lived your life twice . . . it'd be too weird."
Trunks laughed softly, a quiet noise bringing to mind the softer sort of wind, the kind that ruffled your hair and you wouldn't mind if it did, but would simply smile, and watch the sky. It was a nice sound. "You can say that again," he shook his head in slight confusion and pondered his words. "I don't really get that, though. How can everything be equal? We live at different times, die after different amounts of it . . ."
Regarding him with new interest, Red looked up, and stood just as gracelessly as he'd sat. That seemed almost an insult to his beauty, but the dark haired man didn't seem to give one wit about fairness, or proportions of elegance in features to elegance in how he chose to move. "Doesn't mater, kid. You'll get it eventually. Anyway, you've got a lot of work cut out for you, kiddo. None of it'll be easy, but I think you of all people would be able to do it." Grinning, he offered a dripping hand to Trunks, who took it with some unease. Nothing became of it, though, and still Red smiled. "I've gotta get goin' . . . say hi to Vegeta and Goku for me, hmm? Thanks, I appreciate it . . . catch ya later, Trunks . . ." and with that, he disappeared as mysteriously as he'd come, leaving only the smoky memory of his voice, and the glowing remembrance of the message he never told.
*****
Bulma fumed silently, holding Keichii somewhat possessively. For some reason, Zarbon was being an ass. First he blew up at Vegeta, and then he continued to further ruin her plans by refusing to apologize to the rest of the Z-Fighters-- excluding Goku, who didn't know what was going on --even though she pleaded and threatened him to do so. No one was having a good time, least of all Goku. Keichii woke up shortly after the arguments began, screaming for all he was worth. That's. IT! I'm not tolerating any more of this bullshit!
"Shut UP!" she screamed. Glaring furiously, Bulma shook with rage. "WHAT IN ALL THE HELLS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TRYING TO DO?!?! This is GOKU'S party, and you're NOT GOING TO RUIN IT!!! AND IF ANYONE DOESN'T LIKE IT, THEY'RE GOING TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME."
Silence.
"That's what I thought. Now. All of you, back to the living room, and leave all this for tomorrow, okay? Right." She smiled sweetly. "Zarbon, honey, would you kindly take Keichii? Thanks." Rounding on Goku, who seemed more than a little intimidated, she gave her cheeriest grin. "Happy birthday, Goku-sweetie! I'm sorry these men ruined the surprise bit, but we've got everything else sorted out! Just you wait, we've got a super night ahead of us!"
Goku, looking increasingly nervous, shook his head empathetically, raising his hands as if to protect himself. "Na, that's alright! You guys didn't have to do this-- it was real nice of you all, but I'd better get Vegeta to calm down and sort things out--"
Bulma stopped. Turned around with murder in her eyes. "Just you leave that to Zarbon, Goku. He'll apologize to your friend and everything will be loads better! He'll even bring Vegeta back here so you don't have to worry about him," and so I can see whether or not he follows my orders, she added silently. "It'll be just peachy. Right, honey?"
"…" Zarbon wordlessly handed Keichii back to Bulma, and headed for the door, nodding. Goku grinned, relieved.
"Thanks, Zarbon! I owe ya one!" he called after him, and grinned to the rest of his friends. Looking around briefly, he noticed one of the androids in the corner, emotionless as always. "Hey, look! Sixteen showed up, too! All right!" nevertheless, he couldn't help but glance towards the door, worry creasing his brow.
Well, if Bulma says Zarbon's gonna take care of it, he definitely will . . .
Despite that, the image of Vegeta tearing out of the room, grief hidden by a mask of anger so terrible it hurt to look at . . . that picture kept returning to his mind, in spite of his best efforts. Goku sighed, easily deciding whatever Vegeta and Zarbon had been arguing about was best left between them. He certainly wasn't going to touch it!
The party continued onward, everyone talking and laughing. An hour later, the screen door opened once more, and Trunks reentered, befuddlement showing clearly on his face. The purple haired teenager waved to Goku, and smiled genuinely, but there was something unnamed behind it. Even if he hadn't seen the boy's face when he'd entered, Goku would have known something was bothering him. Trunks simply radiated imbalance, most probably because his chi was completely out of sync with his mind. His emotions were practically rolling over his face, disbelief, anger and grief mingling into some shield he couldn't begin to decipher.
"Hey, Trunks! Look who's here! Seventeen an' Eighteen! Both of 'em! Can you believe it?"
Seventeen half smiled, exchanging glances with his twin. The ironic gaze that passed between them could only be described as annoyed. "We came to wish you a happy birthday, Goku. Originally to yell SURPRISE! But poor Vegeta and Zarbon-the-gods-be-damned-fucking-whore-son made sure we wouldn't get to do that." Ignoring Bulma's glare, he shrugged. "Wait 'till you see the cake . . ."
"Surprise, by the way," Eighteen offered. "And happy birthday." Sixteen simply nodded in agreement.
Goku laughed cheerfully, grinning at the androids. "All you guys did this for me?" he looked honestly surprised, scanning the faces of his friends with an immeasurable glow that could only be called love. "Wow."
Gohan grinned up at his dad, happy with the reaction. "It was fun! And everybody helped out, even the and--um, even Seventeen and Eighteen!" Goku laughed again, picking up Gohan, pressing his son into a friendly hug.
"This is great! …Someone mentioned cake . . . is there more food?" Goku asked hopefully. Krillin rolled his eyes, and showed him to the kitchen.
*****
Some time later, as the sun slowly began to rise, the party ended. As promised, Zarbon had attempted to bring Vegeta back to the party, but the stubborn Saiyajin prince would hear none of it. Offering apologies to Goku instead, Zarbon returned three hours after his abrupt departure, and rejoined Bulma. She, for her part, wouldn't talk to him until they had to go home. Other than that, everything went more or less according to plan.
Catching Goku's arm, Trunks offered a smile to the taller man. "Hey, Goku? Listen, something's come up . . . I think I'm gonna return home for a while. I'm sorry 'bout Vegeta an' all, and I hope you two can get Zarbon to hold his tongue. Vegeta didn't do anything; he's just angry. If you talked to him, maybe . . .?" he let the question hang. The weak smile faded a little, and Trunks ran a hand through violet hair, nervous. "I'll be back when thing are less of a mess."
Goku, looking alarmed, caught Trunks' arm as he turned to go. "Does this have anything to do with their argument?"
Surprise flared briefly across the teen's face, and then a smile broke through. "No, it doesn't. It's just . . . well, if . . . it's kinda personal. And really hard to explain."
"If you think that's what's best for you, all right," Goku looked a little reluctant. After everything that'd happened, it was kinda nice to have Trunks there, a quiet figure in the shadows that brought peace even to Vegeta's troubled mind. Thinking that had to do with Trunks' lineage rather than pure character, Goku had to smile. Leave it to Vegeta's kid to do what no one else can . . . "But if there's anything I can do, or anything we can do, don't hesitate to ask. Okay?"
Trunks smiled. "Okay." Turning around again, Trunks walked forward a few steps, and half turned back, giving a small wave. "Take care of yourself, Goku! And maybe Vegeta, too . . . I'll be seein' ya!" With that, he disappeared.
*****
Around midday, Goku managed to tease, threaten and plead Vegeta into accompany him on another outing, this time taking him to an amusement park. At first the shorter Saiyajin refused to set foot in the place, but eventually he managed to convince him otherwise. Goku bought ice cream and cotton candy, even getting the stubborn man to accompany him on some of the more interesting rides.
Just as they got off the "funny boat that didn't sail on anything or go anywhere," as Goku called it, the two of them nearly ran over an equally surprised Trunks. The more relaxed two of the party both yelped in shock, where the final member nearly crushed Trunks' throat before Goku intervened.
"Trunks! How're you, little guy? You feelin' okay?" the-now-officially-one-year-and-a-really-long-half-day older man asked.
Trunks, still trying to catch his breathe, held up one hand, signaling them to wait a moment. Vegeta growled an apology. "Sorry, kid,"
Shaking his head, Trunks smiled slightly. "No problem," he muttered. "Vegeta, I thought you said you weren't training!"
His father shrugged. "I'm not. Kakarott is simply dragging me half across the planet every other day or so, and limiting the amount of alcohol I take in." the latter bit of the statement carried more than a little annoyance.
Trunks laughed. "It's good to hear you guys . . . but, no, I haven't solved my problem." He sighed. "I'm still just as confused as I was to begin with."
Goku looked at Trunks funny, befuddlement showing clearly on his expressive features. "Y'know, sometimes it takes more than a few hours to get that sorta problem sorted out." He offered off hand.
Blinking, the lavender haired boy looked from one Saiyajin to another in apparent confusion. "I was gone a few weeks," he countered. Shrugging, he brushed it off. "Guess that's the thing about time travel . . . I could be gone any number of years and still return to the same day I left!" he grinned in amusement, thinking the probability of staying gone from such wonderful friends more than a few months impossible. They kinda grew on you. "You know what? I'm not actually sure what my problem is."
Laughing good naturedly, Goku clasped his shoulder, grinning in amusement. "That's definitely gonna make it a lot harder to solve! What can we do for ya?"
Grinning mischievously, Trunks put an arm around Vegeta's shoulders. "If you would, Goku, can we go someplace quiet? Someplace where there's lots of trees . . . maybe some climbing . . . either that or New York." He shrugged. One or the other will do nicely.
"What do you think, Vegeta? Mountains or cities?"
Vegeta glowered. "I. Don't. Care."
Goku poked him in the ribs, grinning widely. "Come ON, Vegeta! Do you wanna go hike, or do you wanna go see the good ol' U.S.A.?? It's not that hard!"
"…mountains…" Vegeta growled. "Less annoying people like—"he stopped. Within the space of seconds, the three of them had been dragged to some remote forest in god-only-knows-where. "…you…" he finished lamely. Goku only laughed.
*****
Leaving their heavier belongings where they'd first emerged, the three preceded to hike the most grueling way possible; without their abilities. Trunks flat out ordered them not to fly, use chi energy, instant transmission and what not unless they were in danger of dying. Goku exchanged amused glances with Vegeta, wondering what made the boy want to make all this more challenging for them.
Maybe he needs to get his mind off things, Goku mused.
Trees as old as the rocks they grew in stretched around them, their huge trunks withered by the mountain winds and ravaged by time. Beautiful in the way only the wild can be, the sky radiated purpose over this mountainside, all clouds giving way to the lower portions and gathering majestically at the peak. Droplets of dew pooled on the evergreen needles, crystalline in the afternoon sun. It was another world they traveled in, high above the clouds. Mischief clung to the air like fog, causing even Vegeta to give in a little and have fun, dropping out of sight for just long enough to create some sort of trap ahead of them. It was harmless, but frankly amusing.
Hours passed, and they found themselves wandering the trails at dusk. Unwilling to risk even the smallest accident in the near dark, the trio unanimously decided to turn back. Jokingly acting as if he would punch the other two, Goku grabbed hold of their shirts, transporting them back to their belongings. They found two things there that surprised them to the extreme.
The first was that their possessions had been moved; strewn about the forest floor like so much junk. The second was the person who'd done such; a small, scrawny kid of near ten years. His wild hair wasn't quite so extreme as any self respecting Saiyajin, but for an earth child it was nothing short of unbelievable. His clothes were dirty, torn in some places, and well used all around. All in all, it looked as if the child had seen better days.
"…what are you doing?" Vegeta asked, deadly calm. Dark eyes flashed ominously, betraying his thoughts.
"Hey! What'd you do to our stuff?" Goku asked, mildly dismayed. "Did you lose something?" he asked, ever courteous.
"…" said the kid. He dropped what he'd been holding, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Unfortunately, the twilight was as much of a danger as they'd supposed, and an invisible root caught the child's foot, tossing him a good five feet forward-- and into the canyon.
While all three made a move to help the boy, Goku managed to reach him fastest, teleporting into the air, catching hold of him easily. The kid, for his part, clung to Goku like the small child he was, terrified. The wind around them stirred restlessly, and far below, the river moaned within its confines, regretting the loss of such a worthy sacrifice. Murmuring soft words of assurance, Goku stroked his hair with one hand, keeping a tight grip on him with the other. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay . . . you're alright, kiddo. Nothing's going to happen to you."
Wide eyed, the boy looked up fearfully into Goku's smiling eyes, relaxing only the tiniest bit. "How'd you . . . do . . . that?"
Goku laughed softly, smiling regretfully, shaking his head. "I teleported. Same way we got here, little guy. Listen, you okay?" The boy nodded, still frightened.
"Brattling, what were you trying to do?"
"Vegeta…" Goku cautioned, frowning above the boy's head. "This is not the time. Okay, kiddo, where're you parents?"
"…gone…"
"I see. So where do you live?"
"Here."
"Stealing unsuspecting travelers' things?" Vegeta growled. The boy gulped.
"Vegeta!"
The eldest Saiyajin snorted disdainfully, heading back towards their things. "I was merely asking."
"So you're an orphan, huh?" Trunks asked quietly. The kid lifted his chin defiantly, determination shining in his brown eyes. "You wanna home?"
Snorting, the kid looked Trunks over in much the same way Vegeta had. "I'm not gonna live anywhere with you three freaks!" he scoffed. "I'd rather starve! You'd probably murder me while I was sleeping and eat my brains for breakfast."
Goku laughed, and Trunks barely contained a smile. "Uh, do you really think we'd do that? Come on kid! Goku here just saved you, and Vegeta's definitely more bark than bite!" Vegeta growled threateningly, but didn't move.
The kid gulped.
"What's your name, kiddo?" Goku asked softly. "I'm Goku, and that young man you see over there is Trunks." He smiled cheerfully. "And as you may've guessed, that brooding, glowering guy over there is Vegeta. He's the grumpy one."
"Brian." He replied, giggling at Goku's antics. Whether or not these strange people would eat his brains was hard to say, but this guy, at least, he wouldn't mind staying with. "Uh, Goku," he paused. "You can let me go now." He struggled against the older man's arms, trying unsuccessfully to break his embrace. Frowning, he tried a technique that normally worked on other people-- Goku seemed to be exempt from all things normal, though, and retained his hold on him.
"Nah. I think you're fine here, for now . . ."
"Hey, Brian." Trunks grinned. "Since I've no place to stay, and Goku already has a family, why don't you go with Vegeta? I'm sure it'd be good for you both." His grin widened a little, a perfectly innocent expression upon his face. "Maybe you could teach Vegeta some manners . . ." he laughed quietly, dodging the rock Vegeta tossed at him. "Seriously, though. Vegeta would be a good dad." Looking a bit wistful, Trunks glanced at Goku for approval. Goku smiled cheerily, giving the half-Saiyajin thumbs up.
Unfortunately, the other Saiyajin had his own ideas. "Absolutely NOT! I refuse to let this BRAT stay with me!"
"Okay, Vegeta . . ." Trunks sighed. "I guess we could let Zarbon take care of him. I'm sure he could do it, even if you're not brave enough . . ."
Vegeta glowered. "No. That's not going to work on me."
"Come on! You're a Saiyajin. How hard could it be?" Goku teased.
"VERY! I'm not goin' anywhere! This guy's nuts! He's the most likely of all of you crazy people to eat my brains!!!!!"
Vegeta snorted. "Why would I eat your brains? I would only eat an intelligent person's thought matter. Certainly not yours."
"AAAAAAAAAH!!!! I'M A GONNER FOR SURE!" He squirmed frantically. "LEMME GO, LEMME GOOOO!"
"Kid. I'm not going to kill you."
"And you're not going to drink around him, either." Goku added sternly. "Not a drop, Vegeta, and I MEAN it!"
"You're going to get a job, too. Then you'll get a house, or an apartment, and you'll do what's good for Brian." Trunks piped up. And if you so much as bruise him, your ass is mine, Father or not. The unheard statement was clear enough.
"Unless, that is, you're not strong enough to handle the kid . . .?" Goku added softly.
"For gods' sake! I'll take the damn kid!"
"AND you won't drink."
Vegeta growled.
"You're sticking me with an ALCOHOLIC? You're nuts! I won't stay there for a day! A second! Goku! Don't make me go with him!"
"Brian. I will neither harm you, nor leave you to fend for yourself. You're going to be my student, and you're going to be taught properly. You most certainly are going to learn something, Brian, and you're going to be safe. Fed. OUT of these gods-be-damned woods."
"Um, Vegeta? How about we get you settled in first, and then take him!"
"Oh, great. I'm stuck with him for the rest of eternity!"
And that was the end of the matter.
*****
For all of two weeks Brian stayed with Goku, while Trunks readied things with Vegeta, getting together an apartment, and helping Vegeta with his job-hunt. Every now and again, the two of them came back to the Son's house to make themselves useful to the other Saiyajin and help everyone adjust to a young, rebellious kid invading the house. Chi-chi doted on him sometimes, and pestered him continuously to be more like Gohan-- which is to say, studying more and learning to be a good student. It was strongly believed by Vegeta and Trunks that Chi-chi herself, while seeking to make him more comfortable, led Brian to finally agree to living with Vegeta.
Sometimes, when he wasn't busy helping either his father or the only other full-blooded Saiyajin around, Trunks sprawled lazily wherever he found a patch of open sky. Some days the sky was clear, others it was overcast and shadowy, reminding him oddly of the home he'd left behind. Sometimes, his mother's words would come back to him in the middle of another duty, telling him not to visit the 'false past' or travel needlessly where he could screw up the entire scheme of things. There was hardly a spare moment where he could simply sit and think, for all his time organizing. Those rare hours he spent gazing up at the heavens were remembered for long periods afterwards, silent and sweet as only memory could be.
After Brian was resituated his troubles didn't end. Red said he had a lot of work cut out for him, but by Kami, he didn't think fixing Vegeta would be all that hard. With his friends, he'd saved the world within the space of a day, and without this much effort, strain or talking. He'd been tired physically, but not so much mentally…prior to this, he had been quite sound psychologically. Running a hand through his hair, he pondered that, vaguely wondering if this is what his mother went through while trying to invent some sort of gadget to help them save the world. Smiling at a memory, he collapsed against the old tree behind him, and stared up into its branches, peering sometimes at the cool sky behind it.
"Boo." Said a voice.
Trunks blinked, and started in surprise; out of nowhere, Red suddenly appeared, hanging from the branches of his tree. With one fluent motion, he landed next to the startled half-Saiyajin, smiling cheerfully as ever. "Hello, Trunks. Hope you've been well?"
"Uh."
"I'm sorry we don't have as much time to chat this time around, but time, unfortunately is running short for all of us. Trunks, sweetie, I know I wasn't too clear the first time, but this is not what I meant when I said you had a job to do . . . I'm sure it's important for you for to have your dad healthy again, but there are more noteworthy matters to attend to." Putting one hand on Trunks' shoulders, the dark haired beauty smiled reassuringly. The loose shift had been replaced with tight fitting black clothing, clearly designed for easy movement and silent approach, rather like the stereotyped spy outfit, actually, there wasn't a bare inch of skin showing aside from his face. Nevertheless, the man was just as alluring as before.
"Red, I don't get it. What do you want me to do??" Exasperation filled his voice, tired eyes glowing with some sort of hope that perhaps this mysterious stranger would reveal everything this time.
Perhaps.
Above him, the tree swayed and rustled, and before him the quiet vision smiled painfully. This, it seemed, was harder for him to say than anything else. "You know what you have to do, Trunks. You've known all along . . ." he paused, repressing a sigh. "Listen to what your mother's told you, and you'll do fine . . . Trunks? No matter what, don't despair. Please . . . it'll make it easier if you don't."
Somewhere in the clear blue sky, a falcon called. The wind stirred above the grass, trailing leaves and other debris from all over. Silence fell over the two for a moment, neither speaking nor listening, and both of them gazed at the world around them. The heavens spoke of rain, nature spreading her clouds over where there had only been sunshine, suiting Trunks' feelings perfectly.
Sometimes you lose . . . and sometimes you just give up.
Meeting the dark eyed man's gaze with horror, Trunks sprang to his feet so fast he could smell the grass burning . . . the surrounding landscape lost its beauty, bearing only dread in its warm embrace. "No . . . no, I won't!" he screamed, pain coloring his voice as it never had. Not even when the others died, he hadn't shouted like this. The transition from peaceful to angry was almost nonexistent, and so fast it made his head hurt. "You don't understand, Red, I can't! I just . . . can't . . . and I won't . . . Red . . . I'm sorry, but I can't do it. That's not who I am . . . it's goes against everything . . . I was raised to protect this!"
Red smiled, a sad little thing that could only be described as patient . . . perhaps a little remorseful, but patient, all the same. "It's all right, Trunks. Everything's going to be just fine . . ." if he said anything else, it was lost on him, for as soon as he gathered his wits, the young half-Saiyajin flew out of there as fast as he could, but those words echoed behind him . . . It's not okay, and it won't be . . . oh godohgodohgodohgod… I can't do this! I can't...
Time was a funny thing, during his flight. Due largely to the rain, he could hardly see in front of him, much less estimate the time of day . . . however long he lingered, he couldn't get those words out of his head. Red, his request . . . the mission he charged him with, all without truly saying a word. He'd driven himself in and out of the same circle over and over again, hardly noticing the trend in his thought pattern.
He didn't know where he was flying, but when he found himself standing in front of Goku's door, drenched, heart sick and sore, he knew immediately what he had to do. But…it was too difficult, and it was too much to expect.
Standing rock still for what could've been hours, Trunks stared blankly at the door that could lead to his only remaining hope for help . . . Slowly, so very slowly, he slumped against its frame, his head thumping loudly as he stared up at the gray sky.
Zarbon answered the door, calling over his shoulder to Bulma as he did so. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Trunks falling backwards, his support taken away. Noting his bedraggled appearance with the ease of someone trained to do so, Zarbon barely contained his immediate worry, trying not to frighten the boy. "You didn't have to knock, kid . . . you know you're welcome here," the man chided, trying to keep his tone light-hearted.
Chi-chi, catching sight of her almost-son sprawled half in the doorway from her spot in the kitchen squeaked in surprise. "Trunks! Why the hell are you standing out in the rain? Get in here! You and Goku . . . no common sense . . . come on in, sweetie, or you'll catch a cold . . ."
Dazed, Trunks looked from the green skinned man to Goku's wife, blinking slowly in the light. "I'm sorry . . ."he shuddered, pulling his arms around himself. "I . . . I'm just . . . so sorry . . ."
Chi-chi blinked in confusion, brows knitting in vague concern. "Trunks, don't worry, it's not like you're late for anything important. They're just organizing a sparring competition! It's nothing to stress over . . ." Trunks shook his head, closing his eyes. Lurching to his feet, he swayed unsteadily, as if he'd lost his balance, leaning heavily on the frame for support. "Trunks, are you all right? Why don't we get you some hot coco? Come on, sweetie . . . it's all right!" she nudged Zarbon, gesturing for him to get the others.
"It's just that . . . I can't . . . but he said . . . oh, Kami . . . I can't! I won't . . . please, I'm sorry . . . just don't make me do it!" His eyes were open, but he didn't see . . . the waters of destiny, as Red had so kindly referred to them, were washing over him, into his mouth and eyes, trying to block out his sense of self. Drowning . . . 'I feel like I'm drowning; too much too fast . . .' oh, Kami . . . 'Simply a messenger.' Over and over, his conversations with the dark, mysterious Red floated in and out of his consciousness, so very like the waters of destiny. But there were others here . . . who were they?
Chi-chi snapped into attention. "Gohan! Get me some blankets, lots of them . . ." Running a list of symptoms through her head, she quickly assigned jobs for the closest people. "Goku, I need you to find something dry that'll fit Trunks! I don't care what it is, just get it!" Turning frantically to the remaining people, she issued orders faster than she'd thought possible. "Bulma, can I get you to get some medicines from your supply? Vegeta, you and Zarbon get everything off the couch, Trunks is going to need some place warm . . . he's delirious. Brian, can you get some of that soup from the fridge? Just warm it up. Don't boil it, though! And definitely don't burn it. All right, Vegeta, get over here and get Trunks settled-- I've got to make tea . . ." the immediate remedies set into action, she hurried to the kitchen.
Minutes later, everyone returned, tasks completed. "What's wrong?" Brian asked quietly, wondering at the strange occurrences. Trunks stared blankly at the ceiling, clad in an old white shirt too small for Goku, but too large for his son, and similar pants that had to be rolled up and tied around his waist. Both were too large for the pale boy, but they were dry . . .
"Mom? Mom, tell him I can't do it . . . I'm not strong enough! Please, mom? I . . . I'm scared . . . I can't . . ." after all that silence, his anguished pleas for an absent mother cut at the heart. Something was wrong here, and there wasn't much they could do about any of it . . .
Bulma worriedly paced between rooms, not bothering to hide her concern for the kid anymore than the others. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to think of what could possibly have gone wrong. Nothing happened here, right? No one was dead, or hurt . . . there wasn't a thing that could've spurned something like this into action. But that was beside the point; Trunks was here, and he was hurting beyond imagination.
Oh, Trunks…what did you see? She sighed. And why can't you tell us? We'll help you Trunks. I know we can…
In the other room, Trunks' voice rose with rage and some despair, rising above the dead silence like a god descending in ancient fury, bespeaking vengeance with an iron will. "RED, YOU ASSHOLE! How can you order me to fucking KILL everything I ever loved?" Without a moment to lose, the kid was on his feet, sparking with the self-same anger Vegeta was well known for, his chi gaining power with every passing second, the air about him stirring and sparking without halt.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Trunks felt his hair pick up in the breeze, the beginnings of his Super Saiyajin form taking hold in his head. He barely paid attention to those thoughts, letting his body take care of the physical while he fumed inside and out.
Trunks' expression, like Vegeta's when he was so inclined, was impossible to look at, yet similarly unable to break. His gaze was murderous, filled with hate and long-suffering. His face seemed twisted in an awful parody of his usual expression, that soft, understanding look, and his stance, though right for combat, was rigid with suppressed emotion.
All around him, the remaining fighters gathered close, working as a team in this one instance that the boy had little chance to remain as he was. Soothing words came from the more emotionally active members of the group, but restraining hands fueled his temper all the more. He fought against them, but even as strong as he was, there was little one could do against so many.
Finally, the mask dropped, and the latent energy returned to its previous forms. Trunks felt his eyes droop, his face go lax. The boy's feet gave out from under him, and Vegeta was there to catch him when he finally did fall. After the initial burst his hatred ebbed, his sorrow returned.
The assembled Z-fighters exchanged worried glances, and retreated. What more could they do?
Slowly, Chi-chi and Bulma managed to work together well enough to get the boy to drink some tea, easing the herbal liquid down his throat as gently as they could manage. Bulma kept her mind clear, focusing on the task at hand rather than what events had led up to it, and tried to keep from crying. Spoon-feeding soup, she found, was much harder. This was due mostly to the noodles and pieces of chicken, which they eventually discarded. Moist cloths were placed on his forehead, and for lack of anything else to do, she combed his hair out, murmuring reassurances. Slowly his fever was brought down, and for the most part they relaxed.
After a while, the older of the two Saiyajin gathered enough courage to make his way over. A few weeks ago, this would have been unheard of, but spending time with Brian seemed to change him in more ways than one. "Trunks, you okay, kid?" Vegeta asked softly, gently wiping the half-Saiyajin's forehead with yet another piece of cloth. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"
Turning to look at his father-that-was-not, Trunks regarded him wistfully. "I can't." Whenever the girls had asked this same question, Trunks had not responded, staring off into space with the same expression as before.
"Why's that, Trunks? Do you know why you're sick?"
"Sick?"
"Yes, Trunks . . . you've been here for over an hour. Bulma and Chi-chi brought your fever down, but kid? You're delirious."
Laughing quietly, Trunks closed his eyes. "I suppose I would be."
"What happened?"
Trunks snorted. "I hear what I would not have heard, and I'm knowing what I'd rather not know, Vegeta . . . it hurts . . . but you know what?" he frowned, reaching out to touch the air. "I can see things I never saw before . . ."
"Did you go back to the future, kid?" A thousand scenarios played in his mind, thoughts of death and destruction filling every one of them. The boy returning to a world of desolation without hope, finding while he was away everything had been destroyed. Everything. Trunks' machine malfunctioning, sending him into a place where even one of the Z-Fighters would seem weak in comparison…unable to return until now.
His mother telling him he had to return home, and destroy the time machine forever. Finding that one of them would become the evil that would ultimately destroy the worlds, and this little kid, Trunks, would be the one who had to kill them.
Silence.
"What did you see?"
Sensing that the boy wasn't going to reply, the black-haired Saiyajin sighed. "You're going to be all right, Trunks . . . you're going to be fine, okay?" Alarmed, Vegeta stood slowly, trying not to further upset the distraught patient. Walking over to Chi-chi, he folded his arms and shook his head. "Still delirious," he murmured.
Zarbon sighed, looking from Vegeta to the half-Saiyajin. "Guess not even mighty Vegeta could do anything about this one," he murmured, for once too tired and scared to even smirk. Vegeta said nothing. "It seems to me the poor kid's lost it. Snapped . . ."
Wondering what could have done this to the kid, Zarbon swallowed nervously, hoping beyond hope it wouldn't touch him and his…family. Of late, though, Bulma had little to do with him, keeping their son away from him and spending more and more time with this damned disgrace, the 'Saiyajin prince.' Therapy indeed.
Despite that, he couldn't help but worry about their future, particularly Keichii's.
"Don't even say that, you SON OF A BITCH!"
…that had to be Vegeta. "Old rivalries . . ." Trunks sighed. "Seems like they never die, doesn't it?"
Zarbon merely shook his head. Goku, on the other hand, moved forward to help the boy. He, too, wondered what had happened to the boy, but unlike the others, his concern was more immediate; like what he could do for the kid to help him feel a little better. With one hand he brushed back Trunks' hair, and with the other he pulled the covers up around the half-Saiyajin, finally, the taller man tucked a small stuffed bear next to him. "You okay there, Trunks?"
Trunks rolled his eyes.
"Thought not." Smiling slightly, he moved the teddy bear closer to his head. "See that? This was Gohan's, from when he was little . . . though I think he'd probably kill me under normal circumstances for telling you that. But I figured maybe you needed some silent company." He paused. "Wanna tell me what's bugging you, little guy? It could make you feel better,"
"Goku?"
"Yeah?"
"Why me?"
"Uh, can't answer that one." He brightened. "Try another, though. I'll bet I can answer one of 'em."
Quiet laughter. "All right, Goku. I'll tell you . . ." pausing a moment to gather his thoughts, Trunks thought a bit for what the best way to phrase this might be. "He wants me to . . . well, he wants me to do something I can't do. I'm afraid I have to though, an' I don't know . . . I can't . . . it's not like I want everyone else to live with that, 'cause I don't think they'd be able to . . ."
"Who is he, and what's he want you to do, kiddo?"
"Red." He shook his head. "I have to, but I can't!"
"Why not, Trunks? Ever ask yourself that? Maybe you're not supposed to,"
"I am, though. And I can't because . . . it'd hurt . . . too much."
"Is it important?"
"Yes."
"Would anyone die if you don't?"
"Yes. But…"
"Then not doing something 'cause you're scared of the consequences would be stupid, Trunks. And not very nice, either, especially if others had to suffer for it."
He should have expected nothing less from the honorable warrior. Goku, the protector of earth . . . he would say something like that.
"If it's your duty, and if it's right, then you should. But if it's wrong? Then don't, Trunks. You're making it too complicated . . ."
Slowly sitting up, Trunks regarded Goku with resignation. Finally, he hugged the taller Saiyajin, forcing him to either sit in order to comfortably return the gesture, or get something of a muscle strain. Taking the boy in his arms, Goku held him as he would have held his own son, and as he'd held Brian, stroking his hair and gently murmuring words of comfort. The tears were silent, but they were there, and Goku's heart ached for his almost-son's sadness.
"It's all right, Trunks . . .it's okay. Everything's going to turn out fine, you'll see . . ."
Finally he slept.
*****
Rising with the dawn, Trunks looked around briefly, pain sealing his heart. His father and Goku slumped against one another on the floor, obviously beaten from the night's adventure. Kneeling before them, he brushed his lips against his father's forehead, gently hugging both fighters. "I love you," he whispered.
Finally he turned away, wishing he had time enough to bid farewell to his friends, but knowing that he couldn't. Circumstances wouldn't allow, and if he waited too long . . . well, he didn't want to find out what would happen if he waited too long. Stepping towards the door, he blinked a moment, and turned back. The teddy bear lay forgotten on the couch, its face buried amidst too many covers. With a sigh, he took the blankets from his makeshift bed, and wrapped them tightly around the slumbering Saiyajin, tucking the bear under an arm.
With those final tasks done, he held the bear to his chest, and walked quietly out the door, murmuring a quiet thank you beside a voiceless plea for forgiveness. He knew neither the first nor the second would echo in their minds, for none would bear witness to them. So it should be. So it was.
The door opened without a sound, despite the old hinges in need of grease, and his footsteps made no noise. He could fly, true, but that would seem . . . unfair . . . he would fly soon enough. No need to rush things.
"I'm sorry, everyone . . . but I have to . . . please forgive me." Only the trees heard him.
He walked aimlessly for a while, until he found himself where he Knew he would; the sea below him crashed endlessly on the rocky terrace, reminding him of a friend he'd once known . . . alas, there was no time for memories. Not a single one.
Forcing him to concentrate, the half-Saiyajin took a final look at the world through his mind's eye, traveling across it in mere seconds without having to move a single step. Just as he'd told Vegeta, he could see things, now . . . the raw energy that made up the planet, the energy of the stars, the life. Almost lazily, his spirit dove into the earth, sinking slowly, in his point of view, towards the center of all this planet's existence.
*****
Slowly coming back to consciousness, Goku opened his eyes. Instead of the familiar ceiling he was accustomed to, he saw a wall, and instead of lying down, he was cramped in an unusual sitting position against . . . Vegeta? He blinked, and stood. Trunks, he thought, worried. The boy was gone; no trace of him was left in the house. The blankets the boy had been using were wrapped around Vegeta and himself . . . he frowned. But the teddy bear was gone? Where's Trunks?
Reaching out with his chi, he searched for the absent boy, drawing Vegeta into awareness. Sensing what the other Saiyajin planned, Vegeta took the opposite direction, spiraling around the other's chi sense with precise skill. Though Goku may have been stronger, and may have known the technique longer, Vegeta was more practiced in manipulating his chi in other ways, if only by years alone.
Exchanging worried glances, the two wordlessly stood. Trunks couldn't be found. "Hey, guys?" Goku called loudly. "Trunks is gone, so we're gonna go look for him. I think it'd be a good idea for everyone to get up and come with us, at least for a little bit! So, uh, can I get anyone to come on and wake up already?"
"We're leaving. If anyone wishes to join us in finding Trunks, WAKE UP now."
Goku winced. "That'll work." Anyone who had not been woken by Goku's calling was definitely awake now.
A scant few minutes after they were out the door, the remaining fighters joined them, and Chi-chi and Bulma's voices were heard. "We're coming too!"
If it comes to it, Goku thought privately, I could always take them home.
With Brian, Bulma and Chi-chi covering the ground, and the remaining people flying, they covered the distance quickly enough, setting out in different directions to eliminate possibilities. In the end, all their paths led to one, and that led to a rocky overhang not far from the Son's home . . . and on that overhang stood Trunks; a silent but determined figure, dressed in ill-fitting white clothing, rocking back against the wind as if it could break him.
"Trunks!" Vegeta shouted, straining to be heard over the gusts. "What are you doing?"
"You're sick! What do you think you're doing, wandering around after last night?" Chi-chi demanded. Her shrill voice did not carry far enough, though, and Trunks would not answer even if it did.
"Hey, Mystery Man!" Zarbon screamed against the wind. "Snap out of it! We're all worried about you, kid . . . come down here!" Not a word came in reply.
Frustrated, Goku flew towards the boy, only to be blocked by some sort of power shield he'd never experienced . . . concentrating briefly, he willed himself to Trunks, but the same effect occurred. Apparently, either Trunks didn't want to let him in, or something else didn't. "TRUNKS! CAN YOU HEAR ME? IT'S GOKU!"
Trunks didn't reply, salty tears stinging his eyes. Again, no sound was uttered.
"COME ON, LITTLE GUY! LET ME TALK TO YOU! I CAN'T GO THROUGH YOUR BARRIER! WE'RE NOT GOING TO HURT YOU, OKAY? JUST LET US THROUGH!"
"Goku! Be careful! The kid's building some sort of energy-- an enormous amount! It'd be enough to kill even you, Goku. Be careful!" Zarbon called over.
"If anyone's who can sense this kinda stuff isn't here now, they will be shortly," Goku said quietly, directing this comment towards the moody Vegeta. "Maybe they'll be able to help us."
Vegeta didn't say anything for a while, and finally, for no apparent reason at all, he started talking. "Kakarott, he's got your brat's bear," he said dryly. "And it looks like he doesn't want to talk to us." Before them, Trunks wavered unsteadily, shoulders shaking with the sheer amount of power he was supporting. The said bear was clutched tightly to his chest in a weak gesture for comfort. "I don't think he's going to hold up under all that, either. The result will be catastrophic . . . everything around us will be whipped out."
Goku shook his head silently.
Behind them, another figure sped toward the sight. "What's going on?" Krillin shouted over the amounting noise. "What's up with Trunks? Is the world in danger?!"
"Don't know!" Goku shouted.
Ripples broke the air, shaking the very earth beneath their feet. Silent as ever, Trunks stood against it all. But as all mortals, he had a limit, and he was fast approaching it . . . falling to the ground, the boy closed his eyes. Vegeta braced himself, agonizing over this boy's fate as if he were my son.
No explosions occurred. No earthquakes persisted. The air was heavy with the intensified energy, forming a near solid wall around the boy when a blinding flash startled them all. With the sheer amount of energy he'd gathered, Trunks was forced Super Saiyajin to simply contain it. Pulling the energy around him faster now, he let small amounts of it go to keep the rest stable, releasing it in controlled bursts of lightening or thunderclaps, brilliant fireworks that would be deadly to touch.
"TRUNKS!" Blinking in surprise, Trunks slowed the energy intake to a crawl, and looked at the other fighters he loved and respected. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!" Vegeta. That could only be his father. Smiling wryly, he contemplated what his answer was.
"I'm doing what has to be done," he replied calmly, ice in his voice. Unbeknownst, his appearance changed once more. Golden hair bleached white, and green eyes disappeared into a glowing mass of quicksilver. Everything has a price, his mind whispered. And everything that lives must die.
"WHAT?!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Trunks, what are you going to do?" Goku asked, stronger, more restrained.
"I'm going to fix everything. I'm going to do it because I have to . . ."
"FIX?" Krillin cried. "AND HOW DO YOU INTEND TO fix EVERYTHING WITH ALL THAT??"
"You don't understand . . ."
"And we won't unless you explain what what-the-FUCK-is-GOING ON HERE!"
Seventeen. Trunks blinked. When had he gotten here?
"You've got some major power there, kid, but what do you intend on doing with it?" Eighteen. Unbeknownst, she echoed Krillin's words.
"I'm sorry. I don't want to . . . but it's my duty. If I don't, every universe that ever existed and ever could exist will fail. And it'll all be because I wasn't strong enough to handle it. I can't let that happen. Even if it means--" he choked, tears running down his face. "Even if it means I have to . . . kill everything here, I will."
"TRUNKS! YOU'D BETTER GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR, KID, 'CAUSE WE WON'T STAND FOR THAT!" Vegeta again.
"I didn't think you'd understand. This shadow universe . . . if I allow it to remain, it'll consume everything. You'll all die, and everyone I know from my time will die. Everyone who ever existed will be WIPED OUT AS IF THEY WERE NEVER EVEN THERE! I'm sorry, but I can't let that happen."
Concentrating on the power he knew remained, Trunks gathered what else he'd need, and pulled it around him like a shield. "I . . . am . . . sorry . . ." he whispered. No need to worry about not being heard. Everything on Earth could hear him now, could hear his heart beat, and taste his tears.
"TRUNKS! You're wrong, Trunks! Kiddo, you're not well! You're just sick, that's ALL! You don't need to do this . . . Trunks . . . please . . ." Goku again. "This isn't RIGHT, AND WHETHER OR NOT YOU'RE MY FRIEND, I WON'T LET YOU TAKE OVER AND KILL EVERYTHING!"
You will die anyway. His thoughts. They could all hear him? Well. Maybe he wouldn't need his body after all . . .
"TRUNKS!" Vegeta.
"I don't want to hurt you, Trunks . . ."
And I don't want to hurt you. Any of you.
"Then don't! Trunks, you've got a choice!"
No.
And so the world, the false world of shadows and lies, exploded.
*****
tbc…
Next chapter should be up tomorrow, Saturday the 9th. Why? Because it's very short.
I realize I've been promising a more exciting, more interesting chapter for a little while now, but I've gotten into an argument with my editor and friend about where this chapter should end. *Laughs* well, what do you think? Was this one too long, or not?
If you've read Felix's story, this is most obviously the chapter where things split; up until now, I was mirroring her action. *Bows* but, the idea…hmmm…whacked me over the head until I wrote it.
So. Did anyone expect that? *Wonders*
Thanks to Mel-chan, Raen, Valery, and Gohan's Chick. Me, you don't count, 'cause I know you're Meghan 'cause you used your nick-name. *Pauses* but, thanks anyway.
Mel-chan, *grins* thanks muchly so for the input! …*silence* not much you can say to that…! Reviews and such make me happy, and thank you for the compliments. I'm curious about what you were thinking about, mostly because deep thoughts are often inspiring. If you have a choice between laughing and crying, always laugh…but that could just be me.
Raen, thank you for the compliment. I know what you mean about no time. So thanks for stopping by and dropping a review. Vegeta is being weird. I'm trying to fix that…so far, it involves much inserting bits and pieces in old chapters, and writing an interlude…yep, Zarbon is back for a reason. Whether or not that's a good reason is up to you…
Valery, thanks for commenting. But, nope, I don't write romance fics. I haven't ever, and don't see myself starting anytime soon…but if that changes, you'll probably notice! *grins* Trunks is a cool character…hope I'm portraying him correctly…I've never actually met him, or seen all the episodes with him in it. Just the "History of Trunks" thing. *Snerk!* Trunks/Zarbon? Now that would be pretty funny…in theory.
Gohan's Chick, thank you! Uh. I'm sorry. I've been ordered not to answer any questions that are answered in the story…hopefully they were answered in this chapter…who would win between Zarbon and Vegeta? Hm. Probably Zarbon 'cause of the 'no training' factor Vegeta's got going. Unfortunately, things ended rather abruptly for them, so their scheduled death match had to be canceled…
Meghan, I'm not sure I should reply to you. I know what I'm working on; you wrote me a long, detailed list. No gagging. I'm WORKING on the others…they'll be done eventually…hopefully soon…
Comments, critiques, rants and other such reviews are always welcome. I can't improve, or correct things, if you don't tell me what's wrong.