Oh, if you're coming down to rescue me

Now would be perfect

Please, if you're coming down to rescue me

Now would be perfect…

~ K's Choice – 'Shadowman

Final Struggle

In all victory there is weakness. He is so busy rejoicing over his triumph, that he is totally unprepared for the mind attack. It feels like being backstabbed; it is painful, unexpected. Most of all, it is his own stupid mistake. How could he be so careless?

She dives and wriggles deeper into his secluded world of thoughts.

The strength of her mind scares him senseless.

She speaks. I am here, Trunks, I won't go away and leave you alone.

(but i want to)

I promised I wouldn't leave you all by yourself.

(break it)

I won't break my promise.

(please)

No.

Stubborn. So damn stubborn.
She has bitten into his mind like a rabid dog, and her presence is tainting him, seeping into his brain like (rabies) a disease. She is desecrating his sanctuary – destroying his peace with images of his past. He does not want her here. She has to go.

(leave now)

No. I can't.

(if you will not leave, i have to kick you out)

Try me.  – Defying, determined.

(i would hate to hurt you. i remember loving you once.)

A moment of pressing silence. She is twisting at some old memories, trying to tear them loose from his guard. Dammit. You still love me. You just don't want to remember.

A memory is torn loose, slipping out of his grip to torment him. A flash of memories cascades over him like waves in the ocean. The ocean… a beach.

~ a beach. Golden sand and golden sun. A little girl with blue hair smiles up to him, her eyes radiating a complete trust and happiness. He picks her up and twirls her around. She is squealing in delight and he laughs back at her, oh he laughs ~

He screams in rage. This is not supposed to happen! With all his strength, he slams down his shields again, only to find that they are already crumbling. He has virtually no defense against her ongoing attacks. He can sense her fatigue, but knows (another twice-damned memory) that she's too stubborn to give up. That was just the way she works. He remembers. Oh yes, he remembers.

~ a song. Powerful, fast, full of rage. 'Don't you realize that evil lives in the skin?' He dances around his room. He stretches out his arms and yells the lyrics along on top of his lungs. The adrenaline is dizzying. Kami, that feels good ~

She penetrates his shields with laughable ease. You're not evil. You are the best person I know. Her mental voice is soft and soothing.

But he realizes.

(don't you)

(realize)

(that evil)

(lives in the motherfucking skin)

He slams her out of his mind. It is not even shoving anymore; his thoughts have created a battering ram that kick her out with a power that seems so vast that it can only be fueled by hatred. Scorching, purifying (sweet) hate. It's so easy to hate. He indulges in it.

(GET OUT!!!)

She bounces back again just as quickly. I love you, she starts tentatively.

(fire, scorching fire, burning him clean, please please burn me clean)

He doesn't want this pain (this taint) inside of him. He is safe here, nothing can hurt him. Why won't they leave him alone? Hasn't he done enough already? Feebly, he tries to defend the old parts of himself. He can't let her get to him, he knows that, but it's almost useless to even try.

Yes! The female voice in his mind squeals with triumph as she unlocks another memory. He feels the backlash when it snaps free. He has tried to guard it, but she is stronger than he is. Kami, he is so scared.

(please leave me - oh. Oh, no)

~ Lavender sky, sunset. Sadness, resolve. A feeling of self-righteous sacrifice.

"The things we do for love," he whispers. ~

Love?

(…)

~ Her sweet taste makes him feel light-headed. "I am sorry, Marron," he says and hits her in her neck. She convulses only once before turning limp in his arms. He picks her up and carries her over to the time machine. If she is safe, then nothing else matters. ~

(Marron?)

He feels his intruder smile. Gotcha.

~One finger, one beam. Straight down.

It happens in slow motion; his ultimate nightmare is replaying itself over and over again before his mind's eye. He tries to open his mouth to scream (to warn her, to deny it) but he doesn't have time to do anything. It just happens, and he is powerless to stop it. That beam. Marron...~

(no no nO NO!)

Hysteria.

(i can't see this. i am not seeing this. not here. i am safe here, nothing nothing nothingnothingnothing can hurt me here …not even those memories the pain can't touch me please leave me alone haven't I done enough by now won't you please have mercy please?)

She responds. I am so sorry, Trunks.

Suddenly, the world stops making sense to him. He doesn't know what to do, what to feel, what to think anymore. His sense of purpose is crumbling. What was he doing again? Why is she hurting him? Don't you realize that evil lives in the skin?

All he can trust now are his instincts. Raw, overpowering, it is all he has. And his instincts are yelling at him to defend himself. She is tearing him apart, and he cannot let her. She has to go away.

I am with you.

(I want you out of here.)

I will not leave.

(Then I will have to kill you.)

***

The Saiya-jin prince opened his eyes slowly and raised his head to the others. He was leaning against a rock, his arms crossed in that signature stance they all knew so well.

"What is it, Vegeta?" Bulma asked. She had been watching his concentration and wondered what he was picking up. Even she was feeling the momentum of spiritual energy that was being utilized by her daughter, but she could not make out any finer points of mental communication. The others all did, and they were listening. She felt alone and scared and very, very helpless. All she could do was hug her little girl while her children were fighting a battle for the sake of the universe.

Vegeta shot her a disturbed, dark look. "We have to prepare," he announced.

"For what?" asked Bulma. She looked around at the others. Her heart caught in her throat when she saw their worried looks. She swallowed. "For what, Vegeta?"

"He's coming over," Vegeta said, waving into Future Trunks' general direction. "He's going to try to kill Bra."

***

~Family dinner at Christmas. The biggest stuffed turkey he has ever seen sits on the candle-lit table. Vegeta is teasing Bulma about her cooking skills, but tonight she takes it in good humor, because she has done a wonderful job on her Christmas cooking, and she knows it. The table looks lovely. When Trunks sits down next to his baby sister and looks out over the beautifully dressed table, at the faces of his family members, he feels all warm inside. He is twelve and he wonders vaguely if this is the true Christmas feeling they always talk about on TV...~

~He is seventeen. He does not know yet that the world will end in a couple of months. He pulls the girl closer and dirty dances with her. The lights are flashing and the beat is booming. It is giving him a headache but the girl is pretty and Goten ran off with her friend earlier tonight and he doesn't care because it feels too good. He feels alive.~

Now that she has been able to pull a trigger memory loose, it feels as if the whole fabric of his memories is falling apart, spilling random memories everywhere. She is trying to make sense of them, but he gave up a long time ago.

He is searching for her physical ki.

(there)

He takes delight in the stabs of panic she is feelings. She is afraid of him. Trunks, please. Don't do this, Trunks. You'll kill us all at this rate. Don't come and find me.

(then leave me alone)

She is so close to him that he does not even have to communicate the thought. She can pluck it out of his mind like a ripe apple.

I can't, she wails.

(determination)

and then:

(confusion)

There is wind whistling in his ears. Where is he going again? There was a sense of determination only a bit ago. He is struggling against something unseen. There are memories, images and dreams filling his vision – he does not know what is real anymore. He is holding on by his fingernails; a shredding feeling, like ripping cloth, fills his mind. What is happening?

(nausea)

(fear)

His body is moving simply on instinct. His mind is (broken) somewhere, still frantically trying to make sense of the images – as if he is dreaming and sleepwalking both.

~ He is Gotenks and pokes fun at Majin Buu, bursting with self-confidence~

~ He is Gotenks and feels Marron speed off in the aircar, covering her back against the Silver Terror // he feels his brother die and hopes that she will find the dragonballs, or either some sensu beans ~

~ He is himself, looking at pictures of a boy with a face that he will have when he grows older. The boy in the picture stands next to a time machine and he has a solemn look in his eyes ~

~ He is himself, and he scratches the word 'Hope' into the time machine, overwhelmed with feelings of deja-vu ~

~ He is himself, walking with Bulma (not his mother, but the past version – although by now she is his mother too) through the halls of the Aranzan cave ~

~ He is… someone is sparring with Goten on the spaceship ~

~ He is… someone… ~

(someone?)

He holds still. He hovers silently in the air. Far below him is a beach, and people are assembled there… but he doesn't know them (anymore?)

(…)

 ***

"It is madness to try and take him on," Gohan uttered, looking up at the gleaming silver above them. "He is too strong."

"He's just confused," a soft voice said. They all turned Marron, who had her arms around young Trunks' waist in a possessive gesture. Her eyes were wide and blue.

"He is dangerous," Vegeta pointed out, not taking his eyes from the danger in the sky. "He'll kill you without remorse. I doubt he even recognizes you, from the state he is in right now."
Marron gasped. "Is it that bad?"

Vegeta frowned at his future son, who was still just hovering fifty feet above them. "Yes. I think we need to fight him."

Glances were exchanged. The silence stretched. No one was particularly anxious to fight a loved one, even when that loved one was out of control. Some of them had just returned to the land of the living, and they were not really enthusiastic to leave it again.

Vegeta gave them one look of disdain. "Weaklings," he growled, and took off.

"Vegeta!" Bulma screamed after him, but he did not look back. She buried her face in her daughter's hair and tried to control her fear. She was teetering on the edge of hysteria. Things had gone so well, and now they were all in mortal danger. If this would not work, they would surely all be doomed.

***

Someone is approaching. He lets him come, uncaring what might happen.

The person has dark upswept hair and a regal bearing. He scowls. "So," he begins with a throaty voice that is frosted with anger, "what the hell are you doing here?"

He cannot answer, but he can power up. The feeling of it is wonderful. He wants to smile when the energy is coursing through his veins again, filling him with sweetness.

"You want to fight?" the dark-haired person assumes. He raises his chin arrogantly. "Know that if you even bruise one of mine, I will destroy you. I will not let you get to them, even if you are my blood."

(blood?)

The presence (the intruder) in his mind wails. Trunks, he is your father! You know him! She tugs at a memory, and breaks it loose. It drifts like a soap bubble through his mind.

~ He breaks through an invisible barrier. It is easy, he is strong enough. The golden energy washes through him. It transforms him into something different, yet still the same. He looks at his completely abashed father and laughs in delight. He is a super Saiya-jin, so Vegeta has to take him and Goten to the park now. He promised! ~

He cringes and clutches at his head, trying to banish her and the memories out of his mind again. Of course it doesn't work. I'll kill you, he vows. It is the only way.

Without even looking at the dark-haired person, he loses altitude. He'll land before her, and then he will destroy her. She will be gone, and he can lock up the memories again. All will be well again. No more confusion, no more pain and fear.

So he drops himself, only to be kicked up again. The dark man glares at him and throws a punch, which he blocks. Naturally. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from my family?"

***

"Goku," Piccolo suddenly spoke up. "Can't you teleport us all away from him?"

Goku solemnly shook his head. "What would it help? He would just find her again. It would buy her time, but I don't think she can break through to him right now. It seems like she's only confusing him, making him angrier. He's not accepting his memories."

"Of course he doesn't!" Marron burst out. "They hurt him!"

"They are part of him. He needs to accept them," Goku told her. His voice was gentle and full of worries. "I just don't know how."

Bulma looked up from her daughter, who she knew was listening to the conversation. "But why doesn't he accept the good memories, then?" she wondered. "Think with me, people. Maybe he needs a trigger?"

Trunks, in Marrons arms, stiffened. "I know," he said softly. "I know his trigger."

They all looked at him, but he was just looking at the blond head that was nestled against his chest. "It's you, Marron. Or maybe Goten. But I think it is you."

***

It is disorienting to stay in his mind for too long. Bra works on frantically – sorting through images with a feverish concentration, working on and on, not looking back at the destruction she leaves behind, not daring to look at what she is doing. She might be driving him insane right this instant, but there are different kinds of insanity and she knows that one is more dangerous than the other.

I am so sorry, she sobs, but she just keeps on hurting him.

Trunks is fighting (our) her father. She has to stop him, or someone might end up killed. Bra tries not to think of either of them dying, because it distracts her from her task. The idea alone hurts too much. Why me? she wonders, and that hurts, too. She is lost in a sea of feelings and memories and images and she's not even sure anymore what is his or hers. And how will she ever find her way back to her own mind, out of this silver-tainted madness? This is her brother she's plaguing, not the enemy (but he is!), and she's trying to drive him over the brink of madness. All she has to ensure is that it's his madness, not some silver-induced craziness… not the insanity that comes with godlike powers. Just… human madness. Or saiya-jin, for that matter.

She is just discarding a memory about getting food in the school cantina when a suggestion bubbles up next to her. It feels familiar, so it has to be her own mind. It's her mother's voice. Is her body hearing this right now?

Maybe he needs a trigger?

A trigger. Of course. It's so logical!

And the memories he has reacted most violently on, were…

It's you, Marron.

She holds still in Trunks' mind for a moment, looking around for the most violent memory in his memory, the one that hurt the most. She's been there before. His memories are distorted and incoherent – there's no real sense of a timeline in his mind anymore. But it doesn't matter. She knows how to find that one memory. All that matters now is timing.

***

"Come on then!" Marron yelled impatiently, jumping into the air to join the fighting pair in the sky. Her hair had come loose from the ponytail and was whipping around her head because of the storm that was caused by the ki that was being utilized above them.

"Be careful, Marron," Bulma warned. "It's dangerous up there."

But Marron, fourteen years old and very much a teenager, just raised her chin and said defiantly: "Living is dangerous, too."

"I'll protect you, Marron," Trunks said, following her example. His hair was as storm-blown as hers, and his expression was just as determined. They nodded at each other and took off, Goten following in their wake, calling out: "Hey guys, wait for me!"

Gohan was looking up at the three teens and wondered: "Should we follow? Krillin would kill me if something would happen to her."

Goku just smiled faintly. "That already happened. Let the younger generation handle this, Gohan. This is their battle."

"Like Cell was mine," Gohan understood, not taking his eyes off the battle in the sky. He could not help smiling, either. Somehow he felt peaceful deep inside; all of a sudden there was a feeling that it would be alright in the end. "You have a strange way of raising warriors, father."

"It is the only way," Piccolo agreed. "A warrior needs a battle to prove his strength. If Vegeta would be here, he'd say exactly the same."

"I just hope they'll be alright," Bulma breathed, clearly not as sure about the situation as they were. "I just want us all to go home now and take a long bath and sleep for the next ten years or so. Safely." She squinted against the figures in the dark sky. "And there they are."

***

Another voice.

He looks up from the fight with the dark-haired man to see three others. Two young men and a girl. Their faces are… familiar. The dark-haired boy… he remembers…

(a starry night and lying on his back in the grass, a laugh and a talk…A friendly arm around his shoulders when he feels down…)

No… he remembers…

…the boy with the lavender hair and the blood in his hair…

(a reflection in glass: bloodstains, blue eyes… while he scratches something into blue shiney material… the face is sad… is it his own?)

And he remembers…

The girl.

Blond hair, a grey coat.

He looks at her uncertain expression. At her delicate features, her almond-shaped blue eyes (so blue, even with this light), her hair. Her grey coat with the furry cuffs. She spreads her hands. Still uncertain…

Why is he all still inside?

The whirlpool of emotions has stopped. The memories are gone for a second. He just looks at her… he just looks at her… and he…

"Trunks, do you remember me?" she asks.

And he REMEMBERS.

the rain (in his face, cold and wet)
the blood (everywhere, red and cold)
the body (face down and broken)
the love he had just found (obliterated)
the loss (she's gone)

the denial (no, this can't be)

…and most of all…

PAIN.
 
He is Trunks, son of Vegeta and Bulma, and he has lost everything and he hurts. He has tried to forget, but his memories are a part of him that he can't deny. They ARE him, and if he is pain, all he has to do is end it.

And so he does.
Trunks draws upon all that power that is not really his. He gathers it all in his cupped hands, creating a silver liquid fire that would be brighter than the sun if it had not already set. He will be the sun, he vows. He will burn all the pain and the taint away. He will probably burn himself, as well, but that doesn't matter anymore.

He remembers killing the Silver Terror – he has had his time, he has had his revenge. If he dies, it does not matter. The world and the future will be safe again, for now.

Bra, get out of here, he tells her.

Will you be alright? She asks. She sounds tired and young and very, very afraid.

She is in his mind, so he cannot lie. I am not sure. But I need to do this. Love you, little one. Tell the others I love them, too. Now get out.

Please be okay, she sobs. The next instant she is gone from his mind. It creates one nauseating moment of loneliness, but he ignores it and focuses on the energy, instead.

The ball grows larger and larger, until he cannot hold it anymore.

"Leave, now!" he screams at Vegeta, young Trunks, Marron and Goten, twisting his wrists until his hands point at his own stomach. The Silver Armor gleams and reflects the kiball that is pressed against it. The energy of it will burn him to a crisp, and it will vaporize the armor like it vaporized the Silver Terror. Maybe he will survive, maybe he won't, but at least he will die without that armor around him. He will die like himself, and that is good.

So he lets go.