-Erasa-
Erasa had been in bed when she'd gotten the call from Bulma, frantically telling her to get herself, Peni and Trunks to a hotel somewhere far away and safe. After waking up and wiping the sleep from her eyes, Erasa had immediately sprung into action. If whatever was happening was bad enough that Peni was in danger, then that was the only thing that mattered. When Erasa discovered her daughter wasn't in bed, she had a mini heart attack, before hearing the sound of running water from the washroom down the hall. She breathed a sigh of relief. Just using the bathroom. Good.
Erasa followed the rest of Bulma's instructions to a tee, finding the go-bag in the scientist's lab, behind a false back in one of the cupboards. Inside were stacks of zeni, a few burner phones, clothes, food, and a capsule with a label on it that read "Transportation".
Well, I can't say Bulma Briefs isn't prepared for anything.
After getting everything she needed from the room, Erasa rushed to Trunks' room. His bed had wheels, so he could be rolled onto the transportation Bulma had provided. Erasa predicted some sort of van.
The woman froze, however, as she took a step into the room, only to discover Peni by the open window, leaning her head out and looking at the night sky with a bright smile. Trunks' bed was empty.
"Peni?" Erasa asked, breathing heavily, feeling on the verge of a panic attack. "Where is Trunks?"
Peni turned to look over her shoulder, still grinning ear to ear. It looked like there was a sparkle in her eyes. "He woke up, mom. He said that he could feel that there are still more monsters out there to fight. I told him that he was still really hurt…but he's awesome, so he didn't care. He flew out of the window, and looked like the sun when he rose into the sky." Her gaze returned to the night air, letting out a longing sigh. "Go kick that monster's butt, my Golden Warrior!"
-Eighteen-
Where the hell is Cell?
The android thought as she dipped beneath a fist meant for her nose, only to grunt as a follow-up kick slammed into her chest. Eighteen was launched back by her brother's attack, only for Seventeen to dart behind her as she tried to recover, spiking a vicious elbow straight into her spine. Eighteen gasped soundlessly, flecks of spit and bile flying from her lips as her body folded back around the savage blow. Sharp snapping sounds accompanied quick flashes of agony as Seventeen withdrew his arm.
"You never should have picked his side." Seventeen whispered hatefully, before whipping around and landing a devastating spin-kick straight to the back of his sister's skull. Eighteen was sent careening away uncontrollably, vision filled with splashes of darkness as she struggled to remain conscious.
The furious android snarled, trying to focus around the pounding headache rapidly spreading from the bloody bruise under her hair, which was now filthy with a footprint-shaped smear of dirt and dust. With monumental effort, her vision cleared, and she righted herself.
"Where's Cell?" Eighteen demanded. "He can't really be that slow, can he?"
Seventeen sneered. "What's it matter to you? I dunno if you've noticed yet, but hands are full. I'd think you'd appreciate only having to deal with one person kicking your ass." He crossed his arms, grinning smugly. Or, it may have been more of a sneer—she couldn't quite tell.
Eighteen's eyes narrowed, studying her brother.
"..."
He knows something that he's not telling me.
Eighteen glanced around nervously, checking to make sure Cell wasn't somehow sneaking up on her despite floating hundreds of feet in the sky. Reassured that they were alone, she asked, "Why are you doing this, Seventeen? We don't have to fight! We don't have to destroy! We can be more than that, you and me both." She offered, hoping against her own screaming pragmatism that he'd stop and think for a second.
His eyes narrowed to slits, the smile melting from his face into a cold, hard glare. "I think you and I both know we're way past that point now."
Eighteen's gaze slowly fell, her pleading expression becoming a sad frown. "Yeah. I know."
Seventeen shot forward, drawing back a fist.
Eighteen waited, body coiled like a spring as he approached, shaky eyes tracking his blurring knuckles, only for him to switch tactics at the last second, flipping around so that he was delivering a hammer kick straight to the top of Eighteen's head.
She reacted to the feint just in time, bringing up her arms in a cross that stopped the kick. The impact of the strike generated a shockwave that bristled the branches far below.
"What's your endgame here?" Eighteen demanded through gritted teeth as she pushed against the formidable weight of Seventeen's attack.
"The endgame is I kick your ass!" Seventeen snarled, kicking off of his sister's forearms before driving straight into her, wrapping his arms around her waist with a roar. Eighteen wheezed, the wind knocked out of her as he shot straight down into the forest below. There was a deafening boom as the siblings smashed—Eighteen taking the brunt of it—straight into a small clearing. Trees, animals, and untold tons of dirt and rubbles exploded away from the point of impact as a crater formed.
Seventeen was the first to rise, shaking his hair of the dust and debris now filling the air, his eyes never leaving her prone, crumpled form. He growled as Eighteen slowly pushed herself to a sitting position, holding her head.
"That hurt…" She moaned miserably.
"Yeah?" He asked, raising a hand to face her. "Well, I'm sure this is going to hurt, too."
Volatile, crimson energy built in Seventeen's hand before he shouted, "Photon Flash!"
Eighteen screwed her eyes shut as the world around her turned blood-red. Light and heat and pain enveloped her, and every inch of her body felt like it was being smothered in molten lava. She shrieked in agony as the attack washed over her, detonating in a violent flash that vaporized a new, sizably crater inside the one they'd already made. The energy ripped and tore at her flesh and clothing, and after an infinite moment of more pain than she could ever remember feeling, she was blasted away with so much force that she barely even registered the orchard-worth of trees that she cracked straight through like they were sticks of timber. Finally, she slammed into a solid cliffside, blooding and concussed and momentarily insensate.
The blonde slumped to the ground, tendrils of steam and smoke rising from her scorched body as she trembled uncontrollably. It was safe to say that Seventeen was definitely back to full power.
Shakily, Eighteen began to push herself to her feet, wincing as the ruined remains of her clothes—cooked into her flesh, in some places—tore and crumbled around her, the blackened fibers passing over her pinkened, sensitive flesh feeling like glassy sandpaper. Her shirt had been ripped to shreds in the front,where Seventeen's Photon Flash had detonated, and the back wasn't in much better condition from where she'd collided with the trees. She sighed, ripping away the last of the hanging fabric to reveal a white, form-fitting tank top underneath. A part of her wanted to laugh at the offhanded thought that natural fibers must channel protective ki better. What a stupid thing to be thinking about.
Seventeen landed a short distance away, his hands on hips.
"Starting to realize you picked the wrong side of this game?" he snickered.
Eighteen snapped, snarling, "is that all this is to you!? A fucking game?!"
Seventeen recoiled, bristling.
"Do you realize what's at stake right now? What Cell is planning for me? For us?" she rasped through her hoarse throat, taking a step forward. One leg of her jeans cracked and crumbled to dust all the way up to her thigh.. "He wants to absorb us, Seventeen. That's the fate that awaits you if you decide to keep working with him. He's evil, but even more dangerous than you and I ever were." Hot, stinging tears welled in her eyes. "Please," she begged, clutching a fist to her chest as tears poured down her grimy cheeks. "Please stop this while we're both still living and breathing! There's only one way this ends if we keep fighting."
Seventeen's expression turned to stone as he stared back into Eighteen's desperate gaze. Not a sound escaped him as he absorbed every detail of her battered, begging form. After a handful of seconds that felt like an eternity, her brother finally spoke. "You're right. There's only one way this ends."
"Seventeen…" Eighteen sobbed, feeling an agonizing squeeze around her heart. "Please, don't say that."
"I'm going to make things go back to the way they were, Eighteen. With or without you." Seventeen said coldly. "You made your choice to betray the world we built for ourselves. We had everything, Eighteen—"
"We had nothing!" Eighteen shrieked, "but a world devastated by two idiots who treated it like a sandbox! We acted like nothing mattered; like we could do anything and everything we wanted and nothing bad could ever happen to us!"
Eighteen gestured to the evidence of battle all around them. His eyes obliged her, taking in the devastation.
"Well, look at us now, Seventeen! The consequences of our actions have finally come back to bite us!"
Seventeen snarled, gritting his teeth. "Only because you decided you wanted to ruin everything!"
"I woke up!" She exclaimed, exasperated. "I realized that the only thing we were going to end up with at the end of this pointless journey of destruction was dust and ruins. What then, Seventeen? Would you have taken potshots at rubble for the fun of it after we leveled the last city on Earth? Of course not—it's no fun if the target isn't moving and screaming! What's your plan once you get bored of the dead world you've made?!"
Seventeen sneered at her. "We would've figured something out," he answered uncertainly, all but admitting he'd never even thought about it.
"We would have killed each other, Seventeen!" Eighteen asserted breathlessly, her throat too painful to yell anymore. Closing her eyes, she recalled the words that had quite literally changed her entire life. "When all you know how to do is destroy, what do you do when you are the only thing left to destroy?"
Seventeen goggled at her, lost for words. For all of a second, he looked like what she'd said might actually have sunk in, but she felt her hope shred to pieces a blink later as his teeth grit and growled in frustration.
"Well…" he began in a somber tone, shifting until he was in a fighting stance again. "I guess you were right about us, then."
Eighteen's heart withered, but no more tears would fall. Looking back at her brother, she could see that there was no convincing him to stop.
He'd made his decision...and in doing so, he'd made Eighteen's as well.
"Yeah." She said past the lump in her throat, "I guess I was."
An abrupt scream off in the distance tore Eighteen's attention away from the conversation. Was that Bulma?!
Seventeen's gaze shifted that direction as well, and he scoffed. "I guess he finally found her. Took him long enough."
Eighteen's blood froze solid. "What?"
Her brother rolled his eyes. "What, did you really think he was coming to get you? Didn't you pay attention at all to what we said back at the lab?" He shook his head. "Didn't think you were so gullible, Sis."
No.
Cell was after Bulma!
No, no, no!
A second wind of desperate energy filled her, and Eighteen's battered form blurred as she launched herself in the direction she'd heard Bulma's scream, senses sweeping outward for even a hint of Bulma's ki—
A savage kick struck Eighteen's cheek, sending her crashing back into the ground.
She scraped against the earth, the rest of her remaining pant leg tearing away as she rolled and sprang back to her feet, narrowly avoiding a stomp that would have crushed her head like a meat pie.
She regarded him with a burgeoning, alien hatred.
"Don't forget who you're fighting, Eighteen." Seventeen wagged a finger mockingly. "I'm not going to let you get away so easily. Not again."
I need to get to Bulma NOW!
She didn't have time to waste dealing with Seventeen. She needed this fight to be over.
But he's too powerful. Seventeen has always been stronger than me, no matter how hard I push. Nothing has changed since the last time we fought without holding back.
Eighteen blinked, realizing that wasn't exactly true…was it? She wasn't the same person, or the same fighter as back when she and Seventeen had worked together all those months ago. She'd learned so much since then. Gohan had taught her things she had never even known were possible. Could it be that her key to victory lied somewhere in those lessons?
Gohan has never steered me wrong...
Eighteen thought back, searching for something, anything she could use to try and turn the tides of battle her way. At first, she found nothing. Sensing ki wasn't exactly helpful against an opponent who didn't register a ki signature, and adjusting her ki blast mid-flight was useful, but nothing that would secure a victory against an opponent whose power surpassed her own so definitively.
A blazing white aura engulfing him as Seventeen launched himself at Eighteen. The blonde responded by kicking off the ground and into the sky, narrowly dodging his charging right hook, only to be put right back on the back foot when he exploded into the air after her. The siblings traded blows, their bodies moving so fast the winds around them thrashed violently, churning the trees below and felling thick, mighty branches when even their most glancing blows connected.
Eighteen grunted, wincing as a fist grazed her cheek, only to respond by driving her response straight into Seventeen's chin. Her brother's head snapped back violently, before a follow-up punch slammed straight into his chest, throwing him back and giving her some room to breathe. Seventeen caught himself and scowled back at Eighteen. He thrust both hands at her, unleashing a torrent of ki blasts. She wrapped herself in a golden energy shield that rattled and thrummed as the deluge of ki blasts exploded against it one after another, like machine gun fire, completely clouding her in smoke. Eighteen squinted, trying to see past the black tendrils of smoke only to be blindsided when her brother came charging in from her flank. His spinning hook-kick caught her straight in the jaw.
She was sent spinning from the impact of his attack, before Seventeen blurred just next to her and drove his fist deep into her midsection, knocking the wind out of her. Eighteen doubled over, clutching her stomach as Seventeen raised both hands above his head and slammed a double-fisted ax-swing straight into her back.
Eighteen was sent crashing back down to the earth once again, forming yet another crater in the dirt.
Wincing in pain, the desperate fighter rolled over onto her back, still thinking. Was there anything she could do to bridge this power gap between them? Aside from Seventeen's general power advantage, they both had the same abilities, could both fight at the same capacities with the same tactics, could both manipulate their energy just as well as the other…!
Eighteen startled as she realized that she had again discovered a difference between them.
Gradually, with shaking legs, she rose to her feet once again, glaring at Seventeen. In the back of her mind, a memory from what might have been her favorite camping trip of all time had surfaced.
A memory of a rock.
Eighteen shut her eyes, letting the words of her master wash over her.
"Try to focus on the muscles in your arm. Imagine your arm is like a flowing river, and the rock is a dam."
Eighteen tensed as she searched deep within herself, finding the pool of strength installed inside her by the monster that had been Dr. Gero. She reached out and touched it, feeling its cold, artificial presence nestled just next to her true self.
"Now, the ki you have is the water you need to make that river strong enough to push through."
Eighteen envisioned her power as a river, her ki like running streams coursing throughout her whole body. She could see what she needed to do. She needed to cut off that coursing river, and divert its flow to where she needed it most.
"Position your energy where you need it, when you need it."
Her grip on the flow of power tightened. Eighteen grimaced, grinding her teeth as she struggled to siphon the flow. It was painful, to say the least, almost as if trying to shift her energy was going against the artificial systems Dr. Gero had designed to channel her power in the first place.
"Strengthen it, so that it's strong enough to break through."
With her master's words replaying through her mind, Eighteen's head flew back as she let out a deep, powerful roar, demanding that her energy yield to her will as she tightened her grip on the ki reserves within. She ignored the searing pain of it all. The breaking sensation of her body trying to yield to her own demands. It felt like something inside was about to shatter, like something important, integral, was going to be destroyed if she kept pushing her power this way.
There was a sharp bang somewhere off in the distance, and Eighteen knew that Bulma needed her.
To hell with it.
Eighteen let whatever it was inside break.
"Raaaahhh!" Eighteen screamed as, finally, the artificial ki accepted her commands, surging away from her other limbs and collecting in her hand. When she opened her eyes, she found Seventeen mere feet away, charging at her again with a handful of death.
Trembling from her efforts, Eighteen pushed her power to her torso and head, dodging to the left. Her body rippled with electricity, energy flooding where she directed it with unbelievable speed but excruciating pain. Eighteen let out a short hiss as Seventeen's first energy blast missed its mark entirely. Her brother growled, spinning around and hurling the other her way.
Eighteen pushed her energy to her legs. Her thighs crackled with energy, and she leapt up and out of the way of the blast, which impacted the ground instead, creating a large mushroom cloud of dirt. Eighteen grimaced, feeling her power throttling, sending a shocking, burning sensation rushing up and down her legs.
She hovered in the air for a short time, ready, waiting, and reacting immediately when Seventeen shot out from the dust cloud, roaring in frustration.
Now.
All of the energy Eighteen could spare shifted down the river of her arm, pooling in her burning fist.
The sensation was absolute agony.
Seventeen's punch felt like it was coming in slow motion. His knuckles grazed a bloody furrow down her temple and past her hairline as she dodged only as much as she had to, conserving all of the motive energy in her body for her counter. With wildfire in her eyes and pure rage driving her, Eighteen slammed her charged fist into her brother's jaw and let it explode.
She was deafened instantly by what felt like a thousand claps of thunder striking where knuckle met fragile, fragile jaw all at once. The bone gave. Her fist didn't.
Seventeen shot out of even her enhanced visual range so fast that her senses felt like they had a low framerate. One moment, he was there, and a millisecond later, all that remained of him was a tunnel of hard vacuum. In the distance, a large, puffy cloud exploded.
All at once, the air rushed back in, and Eighteen staggered back from the force of it. The skin around her knuckles was split and smoking. She gawked for a moment, astonished by the sheer power of what she'd done.
Reality rushed in before she could dwell, however. She smacked her temples gently until the ringing in her ears abated slightly, and she could hear again. Rubbing her knuckles and wincing as her fingertips were scalded, she rushed down into the trees in search of Bulma.
Eighteen didn't know what she had just done, but she would have time to ask those questions later. In the meantime, she would focus on finding her friend, and ignoring the dull but throbbing pain in her chest that she knew would probably never go away.
Unimportant.
The blonde could still feel Bulma's energy not too far away, flaring erratically with her panic.
I'm almost there, Bulma!
Eighteen grit her teeth as she rocketed through the forest. Not one more life would be lost tonight! Not one!
…She hoped.
-Bulma-
"...Owie…" Bulma groaned, her eyes screwed shut as she began to stir. The soft, damp soil and grass against her face told Bulma that she had somehow managed to escape Cell's grasp, but the ringing in her ears was making it hard to think. Slowly, the scientist-turned-thief pushed herself off the ground, only to let out a hiss of pain as a sharp, stinging sensation in her wrist told her that it was definitely broken.
The same hand I was holding the energy pistol with…
Careful not to suffer any further weight on her now broken wrist, Bulma rose to shaky feet. She blinked, scowling as she felt something dribble from her forehead and into her eyes. Bulma used her good hand to wipe at her face, only to discover a large gash just above her eyebrow the length of her index-finger. Blood coated her hand as she stared at it.
Cell's tail…
Slowly, the ringing in Bulma's head began to subside as she remembered her final moments before being knocked away and landing head-first on a rock of all things, judging from the tender spot on the back of her head.
Bulma had pulled the trigger on her weapon, praying to whatever god was listening that it could stop Cell. A tiny prick of light had formed at the tip of her weapon, swelling with energy just as the tail descended on her. Then, the pistol kicked.
Her wrist had snapped instantly from the incredible force of the recoil, the pistol shooting off into the air to be lost in the tall grass all around them. She'd gasped in pain as the tail caught her in the forehead, only grazing her, thankfully, as the full force of Bulma's attack caught Cell full in the face.
Bulma's gaze shifted to where Cell had been standing before, turning to see the hideous abomination writhing on the ground, clutching its face with both hands.
Bulma sneered triumphantly at her work. The point-blank blast had obliterated one side of the sickly green crown that crested the monster's head, and if the gleen blood and bits of half-cooked viscera splattering her body were anything to go by, she was willing to bet there wasn't much of a face left under those hands, either.
"That's for my son, you freak," she spat hatefully.
Damn, that felt good.
Despite her adrenaline-driven piss and vinegar, Bulma still jumped in fright as Cell's face whipped around. One sickening, half-cooked yellow eye glared furiously through his fingers at her, ablaze with a level of raw, animal fury that had her sweating bullets all over again. She shuddered and reached across her body to dig into the precious satchel with her unbroken hand.
C'mon, Lucky Bag! Don't fail me now!
After a quick rummage, her fingers tightened around a bundle of small metallic spheres. She closed her eyes, breathing out a slow sigh and hoping they would be enough.
Grunting with pain, Cell slowly peeled himself off the ground, lowering his hands from his face and revealing the impact of Bulma's attack.
Bulma half-cringed, half-grinned at the sickening sight, proud. She'd completely ripped away the left side of Cell's face, popping one eye like a gooey grape and cooking the flesh so thoroughly that it sloughed off right before her eyes, some part of it stuck to his bloody hand. To anyone else, the wound should have been fatal, but Bulma could already see that the tissue was beginning to grow back. In only moments, Cell's face had restored itself so completely that she wondered for a second if the damage hadn't just been her panic playing tricks on her.
"That…hurt." Cell snarled, his voice a low, angry rasp.
"Shouldn't have fucked with the smartest person alive," Bulma snarked back with a veneer of confidence she hoped Cell couldn't see through. "I hope you know I've got more where that came from." She rolled the spheres of metal in her hand dangerously.
Cell's eyes flickered nervously to her hand for a quick moment. "Your tricks are only that. Tricks. They cannot keep you alive forever."
Bulma shrugged. "I don't need forever!"
She raised the little balls as high above her head, and then hurled them to the ground as hard as she could, right between her feet.
The area was engulfed in pure, inky darkness. Cell actually staggered back, the rush of thick, smoggy haze exerting unexpected pressure on him.
-Cell-
Why of all humans, is this family to difficult to kill?!
Cell thought to himself as he squinted through the haze. Of course, this tactic was entirely pointless; he could simply sense her presence through it. There was also the fact that she could only move at the speed of a normal human, and so charging forward and thrusting his tail straight into her brain before she could move would not be difficult either.
And so, Cell did just that, not wanting to entertain Bulma Briefs' games any longer. His tail darted ahead, aiming straight for where he'd seen her standing last and moving at such a speed that he knew she would have barely been able to take a step before he got there. He prepared for the familiar sensation of his tail embedding into warm, delectable flesh and bone—
There was a flash of golden light as a blinding meteor blasted down from the clouds and landed just between them. The impact shook the ground and the shockwave of force dispersed the cloud of darkness all but instantly.
Cell's tail was suddenly halted, nerves screaming in pain as it was caught in a death grip.
Uh-oh…
His body trembled involuntarily as he stared into a singular, teal-colored eye. "What a surprise," Cell began slowly, trying to keep the anxiety building in his chest out of his voice. "Whatever business do you happen to have here, Mr.—"
Cell's sentence was cut off as, in one violent motion, a fist buried itself in the center of his abdomen—
—before bursting out of his back in a shower of hot blood and shattered chitin.
Cell let out a choked gasp, grabbing desperately at the forearm plunged through his stomach with both hands.
Trunks leaned in, his golden hair whipping upward with the force of his power as a bright, flame-like corona of energy danced around him. "You went after my mom?!" He snarled furiously. "You thought I'd ever let you get away with that?!"
Trunks tore his arm free of Cell's midsection, headbutting him mercilessly as he doubled over around the wound. Cell staggered back, coughing blood as one hand pressed against the hole in his stomach. Already, he could feel the muscles there beginning to knit back together, filling the hole once there.
"I'm getting the distinct impression," Cell began, wiping some of the blood away from his lips, "that you're upset."
Trunks' fists were white-knickled as he stood defiantly between Cell and Bulma, who was looking over at her son with a mixture of shock and pride.
"You know," Trunks growled, "I'm starting to like that you don't die. It means I get to rip your head off for trying to kill my mom, and then I get to keep doing it over and over again until I'm done with you." Trunks set his jaw. "I'm going to end you, Cell."
Cell snickered, inspecting the boy with a sideways glance. He looked like he was still recovering from their last encounter, despite having summoned enough power to transform into the legendary Super Saiyan. Dressed in a hospital gown as he was, it was easy to see the lengths and lengths of bandages that covered nearly every bit of him.. A patch covered Trunks' right eye, and behind his shirt, pinpricks of blood were beginning to spread from where some of the boy's stitches had come torn.
Despite the clear pain Cell knew Trunks must have been feeling standing there, stressing his already injured body with the transformation of legend, Cell could tell that getting past him would be frustrating. Not impossible, or even necessarily difficult, given the teen's injuries and Cell's own power increase, but it would take time.
Time I no longer have…
Cell glanced quickly out of the corner of his eye. He might have thought that the pinprick of light was only a bright star if not for the concentrated supernova of energy roiling within it scalding his senses—and the fact that it was getting closer.
Resigned that he'd lost his chance, Cell took a step back. "Well, it appears you were successful in delaying me. Enjoy your time with your mother." He took another step back toward the treeline. "Her days, after all, are numbered."
Without another word, Cell spun around and vanished into the night as he suppressed his power until it was virtually invisible. He rushed through the forest, moving as fast as he could on four legs without spending any unnecessary ki.
I must regroup with Seventeen. Our plans have changed.
Cell cursed under his breath as he retreated. This had been a major defeat. They would have to see what they could do once the situation had calmed down.
-Gohan-
Trunks?
Gohan thought in surprise as he descended on the scene below. Just as his feet settled in the damp grass, Trunks fell to a knee, the light of his super saiyan aura dying all at once as his golden hair reverted to its normal lavender. Bulma was kneeling at her son's side an instant later, throwing her arms around him and crushing him in a hug very carefully.
Relief flooded Gohan at seeing his friend alive and safe. The tension in his body eased slightly, the fear, the anxiety, and most of all the rage flooding his nerves all subsiding. His hatred of Cell was still blazing, but he wouldn't let that fire burn Bulma or Trunks.
Gohan walked over, scanning the treeline. He'd just felt Cell mere seconds ago, but the monster's ki signature had disappeared the moment he'd gotten close. Frustrating as losing his trail was, it confirmed that Cell knew how to hide his presence, and could likely sense the ki of others as well. Disturbing, but good to know.
Don't think you've gotten away yet, Cell. I'm coming for you.
Gohan turned back to his friends. "Are you two alright? I didn't expect to see you here, Trunks."
Trunks smirked, wincing as he pushed a hand to the bloom of red slowly ruining his gown. "I woke up not too long ago. My body sensed something big, and I guess instinct just took over." Gohan immediately had an idea of what had been the young man's impromptu alarm clock. "Then, I could feel what was going on out here." He hissed as he shifted, Bulma at his side, fussing over him as she helped him to his feet. "I didn't know how, but then it was like…I felt mom scream." Gohan watched as Trunks' eyes met Bulma's. His voice trembled as he continued, "I knew I needed to get here in time…because if I didn't…if I d-didn't."
Finally, Trunks couldn't keep himself together anymore, and he broke down. Tears came rushing from his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around his mother, who in turn hugged her son like she could .
"Shh, shh, it's okay." She soothed, stroking his hair. "I'm okay."
"But he hurt you!" Trunks exclaimed, gesturing to her forehead.
Bulma smirked. "You should have seen what I did to him."
Trunks frowned, blinking away tears. "Wait, what? What do you mean?"
"Pffft. Your momma's got moves. I blasted half that overgrown beetle's face across the ground—no problem!."
Trunks was in awe. "I can't believe it. How?"
Bulma sucked in a breath to explain, smiling broadly, but Gohan raised a hand. "Look, I know that a lot has happened, and you two have a lot to share, but right now I need to know exactly what's going on."
As if on cue, the air whooshed as a pair of feet touched down just ahead of them. Trunks tensed as he saw who had arrived, and Gohan's lips pulled into a tight frown. Standing before them, frowning nervously, was android Eighteen.
-Eighteen-
Oh, boy. Here we go.
Eighteen swallowed anxiously as she felt all eyes land on her. "Um…H-hey, everyone." She waved awkwardly.
Trunks scowled, his fingers tightening to fists. "Eighteen…" he said coldly.
Bulma wrapped her fingers around Trunks' closed hand. "Honey, let's relax. There's no reason to fight."
Trunks turned to Gohan, ignoring his mother. "What do you say, Gohan? We've got two Super Saiyans here, and an android who deserves it standing right in front of us."
Eighteen's eyes flashed with alarm as she took a nervous step back. She'd never seen Trunks quite so…bloodthirsty before.
Gohan's expression never changed. In fact, as Eighteen turned to see his response, she realized his gaze had never even shifted from her. At first, Eighteen thought it might be for the same reason Trunks had grown so hostile the moment she'd arrived: because she was a dangerous threat that needed to be watched. However, as she stared back into his eyes, she found that he wasn't regarding her with apprehension. No, it almost appeared as if he was studying her.
Eighteen looked away, wrapping her arms beneath her chest, uncomfortable under his intense gaze.
Finally, Gohan gave his response. "Calm down, Trunks. She's not our enemy."
Eighteen's head whipped back toward Gohan so quickly that her vision swam for a beat. A strange surge of hope bubbled up inside her, and she flashed him a small, appreciative smile.
Gohan's eyes narrowed. "For now, at least."
Eighteen shrank sadly as Gohan turned to Bulma and asked, "now, what happened?"
Bulma's eyes flashed with panic, turning between all three of them as they all stared back to her. "W-wait, is this really a good time for this?" she stammered. "Aren't Seventeen and Cell still out there?"
Gohan turned to Eighteen. "You were fighting Seventeen, weren't you?"
Eighteen slowly nodded.
"Where is he now?"
Eighteen pointed South. "Flying off in that direction the last time I checked. I managed to hit him pretty good when I heard Bulma scream." She rubbed her arm, nervous under the group's intense gaze. Her chest still hurt following…whatever she had done to hit Seventeen that hard, but she didn't think now was the time to bring it up. She tried to ignore it. "I don't think he'll be coming back any time soon. He can't sense energy, so he won't be able to find us unless we go out in the open." She looked around at their surroundings, the tall trees stretching overhead blocking most of the sky from sight. "Yeah. This should be good for a while."
When she turned back to Gohan, his head was cocked to the side. "You know about sensing energy?"
Eighteen gulped, realizing what she'd just said. "Uh, yeah." She scratched the side of her face, looking away. "Dr. Gero's files include something about you guys having the ability to sense energy. I'm guessing that's how Cell found Bulma in the first place…" She trailed off, still unable to meet Gohan's eyes.
"...Right." Gohan said, finally, before returning his attention to Bulma. "Seventeen won't be able to find us easily on his own, and Cell knows that there are at the very least two Super Saiyans here. I doubt he's coming back any time soon." He motioned for her to speak, his expression unfalteringly serious.. "So please, Bulma, explain away."
Bulma nodded. Her eyes flickered between Gohan and Trunks, before finally landing on Eighteen. The two shared a look, and Eighteen understood. Eighteen's eyes clamped shut, and she braced herself as she heard Bulma suck in a deep breath.
"...I tried to rob Capsule Corp." She said flatly.
Eighteen's jaw dropped open, and she stared at Bulma like she'd grown a second head. Thankfully, her expression wasn't seen by Gohan or Trunks, who were both staring at Bulma with the same shocked expression.
She said 'I'? Not 'we'?
Eighteen must have misheard, right? It couldn't be even remotely possible that Bulma was covering for her right now…
Right?
"What?!" Gohan bellowed, utterly bewildered.
"I needed material for your new arm!" Bulma defended, reaching into her pouch and producing the container they'd just risked their lives for. "Which I got, by the way. A 'thank you' wouldn't kill you, Gohan, especially after you dug through my attic without permission."
Gohan let out a sigh of frustration. "You know that is not the same as what you did." Suddenly, his expression shifted curiously, and he cast a sidelong glance at Eighteen.
The android blinked, frowning. "What?"
Gohan's gaze shifted between the box, and Eighteen. "You're not…bothered?"
Eighteen shrugged her shoulders. "Why would I be? I'm the one who gave you the blueprint in the first place."
"An excellent point." Bulma said with a nod of her head.
Gohan's eyes narrowed at Bulma. "Right…" His eyes darted between the two women suspiciously. "So, then what happened? How did Seventeen and Cell show up?"
"They were already there." Bulma said matter-of-factly, her unbroken hand on her hip. "Looks like we had the same idea at the same time. Seventeen walked out with both arms and everything." Bulma's gaze grew distant as she trembled, wrapping her arms around herself. "And Cell…that thing is just hideous."
Trunks placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know, Mom. It's okay. You're safe."
Bulma smiled at her son, before continuing. "I thought I was done for." She nodded her head toward Eighteen. "Then, she swooped down and saved me. I thought she was after me too, at first." She barked a laugh, but Eighteen realized that was probably not a joke. The scientist likely had thought she was going to be traded over to Cell for her silence. Eighteen frowned.
Both Gohan and Trunks turned to look at Eighteen in disbelief. Eighteen's eyebrows rose, her lips pursed. "Yeah?"
"You saved Bulma?"
"You saved my mom?"
Both Gohan and Trunks spoke in tandem, their voices sharing the same skepticism.
Eighteen's shoulders slumped, her eyes drooping as she responded flatly. "...Can't a girl just do good for good's sake?"
"Girls, sure," Trunks groused,"but evil murder-cyborgs usually don't."
"Trunks!" Bulma scolded, frowning deeply at her son.
Again, Eighteen noted Gohan's eyes darting between them curiously. She could see him thinking, considering, clicking the pieces together so that they made sense.
"So…Eighteen swooped in and saved you." His eyes locked onto Eighteen's. "What exactly were you flying around Capsule Corp. for? Did you know about the attack beforehand?" He demanded, although his tone had yet to become hostile.
Bulma's eyes grew wide as well, turning to look at Eighteen, clearly wondering the same question now.
Eighteen immediately shook her head. "No, no, no! I promise I had no idea Cell and Seventeen were going to attack."
"Then what were you doing in the area?" Trunks asked, an eyebrow cocked. It appeared that the teenager's apprehension had subsided to curiosity.
Eighteen paused, slowly finding her words before answering. "I said I was going to help against Seventeen and Cell, right? Well, I don't really have to sleep, so sometimes I just fly around…seeing if I can help with an attack, or…something." She shrugged, knowing the lie was weak but praying they wouldn't question it too deeply.. "I just happened to see what was going down before things got too bad."
Gohan remained silent for a time, studying Eighteen as Trunks' expression changed, shifting from curiosity, to consideration. Under his breath, Trunks repeated the words: 'Fly around…seeing if I can help…' and "Don't have to sleep".
Eighteen felt a tremble of anxiety wrap around her chest as she watched the boy think.
Please…please don't figure it out…
"So, what happened then?" Gohan prompted.
"Seventeen came after us first." Bulma continued, "He started to catch up to us, so, uh," Eighteen's cheeks grew bright red as she looked away, ashamed. Bulma flashed a sheepish smile, "Eighteen sorta had to…drop me."
For the second time, Gohan and Trunks looked utterly aghast.
Before they could startle further, Bulma continued, "she caught me, of course! Eighteen just needed enough time to kick Seventeen's ass so that she could get me to safety."
Gohan was at Bulma's side moments later, looking her over with a concerned expression. "How far did you fall? Did you jar anything? Whiplash?"
Bulma lifted an eyebrow at Gohan. "What? What does that matter? It was exactly like every other time you guys have caught me falling from somewhere super high." Bulma paused, before frowning. She suddenly felt very indignant, and threw a very unhappy look back at Gohan. "You know, I'm realizing that I've been thrown around by a lot of people."
Gohan shook his head, sighing. "That's not the point. When we do it, we know that we have to protect whoever we're carrying with our energy. If we don't, then just catching whoever's falling won't save them. People can still die from the impact even if you catch them before they hit the ground. That's why I want to know how far you fell."
"Like…" Bulma trailed off, thinking. "Three hundred feet?"
Both Gohan and Trunks' eyes bulged out of their sockets. "And you're okay?!" Trunks exclaimed.
"I mean, yeah." She motioned to her wrist and forehead. "These are from Cell. Eighteen didn't hurt me."
In what was beginning to feel like a pattern, Trunks and Gohan turned back to Eighteen incredulously. The android sighed, resting hands on hips as she shifted her weight to one leg. "At some point, you guys are going to have to stop being shocked that I'm figuring out how to do good things." She said.
Gohan gave her a peculiar look, one that Eighteen couldn't quite decipher. Eventually, his attention returned to Bulma expectantly.
"Eighteen dropped me off afterward," she continued. "I got in touch with everyone to let them know the situation—" She froze suddenly with realization. "You don't think…they know where we live…do you?"
Gohan frowned, shaking his head. "No. I doubt it." He paused, then asked Eighteen. "Do you know where Bulma and Trunks live?"
Trunks and Bulma both turned, waiting for her answer expectantly.
Eighteen wanted to lie, but she couldn't bring herself to add yet another layer to her exhausting deception. "Yes." She said honestly. "I've known for some time, but I never told anyone."
Gohan held her gaze, weighing her words for their truthfulness. Just as she was beginning to fidget under the intensity of it, he said, "Good."
Eighteen tried not to sigh in relief, but couldn't help the little smile that tugged at her lips at the thought that he was willing to believe in her honesty. Small victories. Trunks still appeared puzzled, his gaze flickering between the ground and Eighteen repeatedly, as if he were trying to place her.
Gohan prompted Bulma to continue, and she did. "Cell was on me almost right away. He thought I'd just roll over and take it! Can you believe that?" She huffed pettily, for a moment looking so quintessentially Bulma that even Gohan's inscrutable frown softened slightly. Of course, the scientist then grinned smugly. "Fortunately, no one gets one over on Bulma Briefs and walks away scot-free! He wasn't ready for the smartest woman on Earth!."
Eighteen was astonished. "Wait," She interrupted, not minding as much as she became the center of attention again. "You held off Cell?"
Bulma puffed out her chest. "Gave him the old slip-up in a cave before I caught him with a flashbang. Then, I introduced him to the business end of my old prototype blaster!" Eighteen looked down at her wrist, and Bulma's impenetrable smugness dipped slightly as she saw where her friend(?) was looking. "Yeah, the recoil did a bit of a number on me. I cranked that son of a bitch up to max before I fired. Melted half his face off, so…" She gestured to the ugly gash on her forehead, the blood still pouring from it thankfully having been directed away from her eye by the slant of her eyebrow. "Technically, this is the only hit Cell actually got on me."
Eighteen was awestruck. "Bulma…you're a fucking badass."
Eighteen caught Gohan trying and failing to suppress a smirk from her comment, before turning his head slightly to avoid anyone noticing.
Eighteen grinned. Even with things so messed up, she couldn't help the little flutter in her chest at the thought that even as her real self, she could make him smile.
Bulma grinned back. "Duh! Some social reject's failed science experiment isn't gonna be enough to take me down."
"Fucking clearly." Eighteen snickered. "Remind me never to mess with you, lady. I feel like I might not walk away in one piece."
Trunks pursed his lips at even the thought of Eighteen coming after his mother, but the tension slumped out of him when Bulma snorted a laugh. Gohan was still coiled like a spring, but Eighteen knew his tells well enough at this point to know that he was a bit more at ease with the situation now, at least.
"Then my wonderful, amazing Super Saiyan boy dropped out of the sky and saved me." Careful of her wrist but absolutely nothing else, Bulma threw herself around Trunks in a mama-bear hug. "Oh, my, Kami! Trunks! You were so cool! My little boy! A Super Saiyan! I'm so proud!" She gushed, planting a salvo of proud kisses on his cheek, all the while Trunks whined in embarrassment and tried to peel her off of him. It was no use, though—Eighteen didn't think Trunks would ever be able to escape his mother when she got ahold of him like this, no matter how strong he got.
"Mooom!" He complained, blushing. "You're embarrassing me in front of the android!"
Bulma paused her affectionate assault and glanced over at Eighteen, only to grin that was somehow fond, surprised, and unspeakably smug. The android flinched, not having realized that a wide, happy smile had spread across her face. She forced the corners of her lips down as best she could and pretended to check the area, hoping only Bulma had seen.
Bulma snorted. "Oh, fine, sweetie." She released him, smirking as he scrambled a few steps away, cheeks nearly incandescent with embarrassment. "We'll do something special when we get home, though." She paused, then without a hint of teasing, gave Trunks a look that was just pure love. "So proud of you."
Eighteen didn't know a person could turn as red as Trunks had turned, his eyes focused frantically on the ground as his face knocked on the door of the infrared spectrum. Despite that, it was impossible for the boy to fully hide his happy grin, or the sparkling joy in his eyes at his mother's praise.
"Good for you," she said without realizing.
Trunks blinked, turning to her. "Huh?"
Eighteen tried not to stammer. "Um…I said good for you."
Trunks didn't seem quite sure how to respond for a second. The hatred from his eyes had cooled, but he still lacked the warmth she'd come to appreciate when she was Videl.
"Thanks," he responded quietly, before mustering his nerve and closing the distance between them. He wasn't quite limping, but there was a visible hitch in his gait. "And, um…thank you for saving my mom. I can't say it undoes everything you've done before," he reached out a hand, "but, at the very least, I guess we're even from last time."
Eighteen furrowed her brow, not sure what he meant, before flashing a sheepish smile and accepting the handshake. It wasn't until she felt his hand in hers that she realized she was gripping the same hand she'd broken all that time ago. In that moment, Trunks leaned in slightly, making it look like he was shifting his weight off an injury.
In the quick beat that he was inside her personal bubble, Eighteen heard him whisper quietly enough that only she could hear, "are you the Ghost?"
Eighteen's eyes widened, her face paling as Trunks pulled back, staring into her eyes. She could tell that he didn't need an answer. Her reaction had been enough of a confirmation. Trunks grunted in amusement, flashing a knowing look before shooting her a nod and turning to walk away.
Gohan, ever silent and observant tonight, noted with a bit of surprise that Trunks had fully turned his back to her as he walked back, not betraying a hint of worry.
Eighteen didn't even try not to smile.
Thanks, Trunks.
HAving returned to his original spot beside his mother, Trunks asked, "so, what's the plan now?"
"We need to make sure you and Bulma get back safely, for one," Gohan answered.
"I can get Mom back home," Trunks answered, moving to pick Bulma up, only to wince at the unpleasant effect it had on his still-healing wounds. "Er…hold on." He tried again, grimacing even more this time. Gohan lifted a hand.
"Stop, Trunks. There's no need to strain yourself."
"Yes, there is!" Trunks complained, frowning. "I know that I'm no good in a long fight right now and need to get back, but Seventeen and Cell are still around, and you need to get out there and stop them!"
Gohan's eyebrows rose at his outburst. "W-well, yes, but Bulma's safety comes first."
"I could carry her," Eighteen cut in.
She could see by their faces that the idea wasn't their favorite.
"What?" Eighteen asked. "I already know where to go and you already saw that I'm willing to fight off Seventeen to keep her alive. What more do you want?" She was feeling a little annoyed at this point. Maybe it was because she'd grown so accustomed to being Videl around them? Having them respond to her this way felt deeply frustrating.
Trunks studied her carefully. During that time, Eighteen decided to mouth a single word, gambling on an idea. "Yes," she mimed, winking.
Trunks blinked, before snickering to himself and shrugging. "You know what? She raises a good point." Turning to Bulma, he added, "that is, if it's okay with you, Mom."
Bulma looked at Eighteen and nodded. "Just as long as you promise not to drop me again."
Eighteen flashed an embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "Yeah…sorry about that. I promise not to drop you again." Her eyes turned to Gohan, whose expression had finally shifted.
His eyes had grown wide, his careful, guarded demeanor having crumbled away completely as he stared at her with mouth agape. His complete and utter shock made Eighteen look over her shoulder, wondering what could have given him such a shock.
…Nothing…?
When she looked back at Gohan, his expression had hardened once more. For all of a second, he seemed almost… hurt, before he turned his gaze on Bulma. "...Are you sure about this?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Relax, Gohan. You of all people know this isn't isn't exactly a new concept. Who taught you to fight, again?"
Gohan sighed, shut his eyes, and nodded. "Very well." He turned back to Eighteen. "Make sure that Bulma and Trunks get home safely. If anything happens to them…" His eyes were solid stone, and Eighteen understood his implication immediately.
"I…understand." She swallowed nervously. "I promise not to let anything happen to them."
"Me too." Trunks added.
Gohan favored the boy with a smirk. "That's right, huh? I'm gonna have to remember you're a bonafide junior Super Saiyan, now…"
Trunks stood up a little taller, beaming. "That's right!"
"I can't wait to see what you can do when you're fully recovered, Trunks." Gohan said warmly. "Now, get home. Those stitches need tending to."
Trunks nodded, untangling himself from Bulma, who had subconsciously begun wrapping herself around him again, before hovering into the air, awaiting Eighteen expectantly.
Eighteen casually walked over, gently lifting Bulma into her arms. She met Gohan's intense gaze with one that she hoped was soft and genuine.
"I'll come back once they're safe. You'll need help against Cell and Seventeen if they're still around."
Gohan hesitated, but nodded slowly. "Fine, but you and I are going to have a little talk later," he stated with finality. His voice wasn't cold per se, but it lacked any of the affection and warmth she'd come to expect—crave, even— from him..
Eighteen nodded, knowing she'd earned his scorn in spades. "We will."
The trio blasted off into the sky, Eighteen metering her speed so that Trunks could keep pace. Eighteen winced, feeling the pain in her chest spike again as she took flight.
I really hope that goes away soon…
Bulma leaned closer to Eighteen's ear. "I hope you haven't forgotten about our little talk coming up."
Eighteen breathed out a sigh, subtly nodding her head so that Trunks would not notice. As they flew, Eighteen thought she might have caught a look from the teen, a knowing look, and Eighteen understood that they would also be needing to have a talk later.
So many secrets spilled. Let's just hope things don't go totally sideways.
She regarded Bulma curiously. For whatever reason, she'd chosen to keep her secret, and for that, she was unspeakably grateful to her.
Thank you, Bulma.
The three figures disappeared into the night sky.
-Gohan-
Gohan watched them leave, frowning, thinking. After a time, he decided that stewing in his questions would do him no good, and blasted off in the direction he'd last sensed Cell's presence. Maybe if he got lucky, he might spot the monster still trying to escape.
The exact same dress…
Gohan dropped into the trees, suppressing his power as he leapt from branch to branch, using the tiniest whisper of ki to lighten the sounds of his landings. If he wanted to find Cell, he couldn't have the mutant tracking him and running away the entire time. That could turn into a game of cat of mouse that could last for hours.
The way she and Bulma get along…it's like they're not sharing something with us…
He flipped through the air, launching off of a branch in a powerful kick that sent him over the treetops and into the starlight. He scanned the ocean of leaves, searching for any displaced branch or sudden, larger than normal movement. They had been talking for a long time. Now would be around the time Cell would start feeling he had gotten away, Gohan was willing to bet.
The way she seemed to be genuinely happy for Trunks and Bulma…
He frowned, thinking he might have spotted a sudden blur of movement off in the distance. Immediately, he began to pursue it. He was already going twice as fast as whatever it was trying to run away. Gohan had plenty of experience with moving quickly with low ki reserves.
That neck rub when she felt embarrassed—not fake embarrassed, either, but genuinely embarrassed…
He slowly raised his hand to the back of his neck, his brow furrowed in confusion.
She'd done it the exact same way as I do.
Finally, the rushing figure came into view, his sickly green carapace unmistakable under the pale moonlight. Gohan felt his chest begin to thunder. He'd found him.
Despite his excitement, one final, seemingly damning piece of evidence that had been staring him in the face their entire interaction finally occurred to him.
Eighteen's eyes were brown just now.
Deciding he clearly needed to vent some feelings before he was driven to distraction, Gohan descended on Cell, leading with a piercing kick straight toward the hideous creation.
-Cell-
Where in the hell is Seventeen?!
He couldn't seem to find the android anywhere! Hadn't Seventeen been fighting Eighteen? He was capable of winning that fight nine times out of ten, wasn't he? That is, unless some part of Cell's repair had failed to start up to the rigors of battle.
Cell frowned, shaking his head. No, that was impossi—
There was a blinding splash of dizzying color across Cell's vision as something collided with the back of his head, slamming him straight into the ground. The throbbing pain only grew as Gohan's foot remained planted against the back of Cell's head, keeping the bio-android pinned to the dirt as he pressed down on him with enormous force.
Cell growled as he struggled to turn his head, shifting so that he could speak.
"W-wait, Son Gohan! We can discuss this," he said frantically, feeling Gohan's power rising, surpassing his own in only a couple moments of pure, blinding fury.
"You tried to kill Bulma!" Gohan roared, pressing down harder and producing a choked, guttural cry from Cell as the plate of his cranium started to crack. The sound of the chitin cracking resonating inside of his own head was almost maddening. "You tried to kill Trunks!" He raised his foot and smashed it down on Cell's neck, producing a snapping noise as Cell screamed in agony, his limbs falling to the ground limply. Gohan's Super Saiyan aura flared with rage, thrashing out violently and searing Cell's carapace. His hand filled with the intense heat of a ki blast strong enough to reduce a mountain to grade. "There's not a thing you can say that'll save you. Just thank Kami I'm not like most saiyans. Your death will be quick.."
"W-ait," Cell squealed, terrified beyond all measure and struggling desperately to speak under the weight of Gohan's boot. "D-don't you want to know the truth behind Eighteen's sudden change of heart?!"
There was a pause, and Cell wondered for a moment if his desperate gambit might work. The intensity of the energy banked slightly.
Gohan snorted. "...Start talking, Monster."
The pressure on the back of Cell's head eased slightly—enough for him to speak.
It wasn't much, but an opening was an opening.
Cell suppressed a smile.
-Eighteen-
"Home sweet home!" Bulma cheered as the trio landed on the front lawn.
Stupid chest pain is getting worse…
Eighteen let Bulma down gingerly, before Trunks turned to her with a serious look. "I can sense that Gohan's energy's spiked. Something's happening. You're going back to help, right?"
Eighteen nodded. "I am. I'll make sure he gets back safe."
"I know you will," Bulma's voice said, giving her a knowing look.
Eighteen regarded the pair. They were both…treating her far more fairly than she felt she deserved, but it was appreciated all the same.
"...Thank you." Eighteen finally said in earnest.
"For what?" Bulma asked.
"For…giving me a second chance when I don't really deserve one."
There was a pause, before Trunks spoke. "You know…my father was a genocidal intergalactic despot for most of his life. He probably killed millions."
Bulma's mouth fell open in shock, and she sputtered a bit. It wasn't hard to figure out that Trunks was not supposed to know this.
"But," he continued, "in the end, even he started to change for the better." a little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "So…maybe you can do it, too."
Eighteen could read the conflict written across his face like it was a book as his desire to give her a chance grappled with his almost conditioned hatred and distrust of her..
Eighteen couldn't blame him, not after all she'd done.
"Thanks, Trunks," she said sincerely. "That means…more than I know how to say."
The android turned back toward where they'd come from. She was about to leap into the air, wrap herself in her energy and fly off to help Gohan, only to double over as a deep, stabbing agony spiked into her chest. Eighteen shrieked in pain, crumbling to her knees as both hands grasped at the center of her chest. The phantom pain was unbearable, and when Eighteen opened her eyes to see Bulma fussing over her frantically, her vision began to ripple and darken.
Gohan—I…I have to…to get to Gohan!
Eighteen feebly tried once more to stand, to lift herself into the air. For a moment, it was working; her feet slowly began to rise off the ground—before a fresh wave of pain and panic struck Eighteen out of the air like she'd been slapped.
Her mind fogged, eyes glazing over as they slid shut against her will. Her struggles quickly became twitches, and not long after, she was unable to move at all.
No! No! Gohan needs my…my help…
Her vision was flooded with darkness, and for one torturous heartbeat, all there was left was the pain. Then, even that was beyond her reach, and Eighteen was sucked into the darkness.
Author's Note:
And there you have it! I must say that this chapter must have been one of the most fun times writing I've had in a long time. I absolutely love writing from Bulma's perspective and having all my main characters finally in one place talking to each other without any disguises was so much fun. Eighteen has finally started to figure out how to be a good guy, and Trunks/Gohan are struggling to accept it lol.
I must say the opening segment between Seventeen and Eighteen was probably the highlight for me. Eighteen's new ability has been something I've been building up to for awhile now, and now that I finally get to show some of what Eighteen's teachings have created I'm soooo excited! If any of you in the reviews can guess what's happening/what's about to happen, I'll be very surprised. Please drop a review! I'd love to hear what you all think.
In other news, this story was recently blessed with an awesome new cover art designed by none other than j_art_animations AKA Upstart Psycho! They appreciated the story enough that they wanted to add their touch to the tale, and I absolutely love it! Their commissions are currently open, so hit them up using the previously mentioned tags if you want more incredible artwork!
As always, Ben Thryss was integral to this chapter's polish and quality. Please be sure to say something nice to him! I'm expecting nothing but kind words!
Needless to say, the next chapter is when shit is really going to hit the fan. I won't lie and say I have this chapter completed lol, but I am in the outlining phase already.
In other, other news, Chapter 4 of Classroom 18 is nearly completed! Keep your eyes out for the next installment coming up in the next couple of weeks!
I guess that's all I really have to say about this installment so…
Until Next Time!