I don't own DBZ
A/N:D w00t clearing things up – if you don't know the timeline – here's the explanation for the chapter – current time, week before, current time, a bit before the week before.
A Different Future
–
–
It had been several months since Trunks had reappeared. It would be hard to tell how people reacted to it in a general manner.
Many were relieved; they had their friend and schoolmate back.
Many were… displeased. There were, after all, some who didn't like Trunks.
He was popular, good looking… and Marron paid him more attention than she had any other guy.
The best way, however, to describe the feelings of those whose feelings actually meant anything in the matter would be to look at the way Son Gohan felt upon laying eyes on the boy ever since he returned.
Anxiousness; concern; anger; worry… the slightest feel of relief. Nothing more.
Those who really cared for Trunks were those who knew better than to accept things as they were.
That's why even though she longed for a warm mother-son reunion, Bulma accepted what was, at the very best, a chilly greeting as the boy returned home.
She hadn't the heart to face him.
He knew enough to just slightly hate her.
Both preferred to keep their distance from the other.
A similar situation rose with Marron…
With Gohan it was simple. He and Trunks merely returned to platonic teacher-student relations. Needless to say, tutoring was out of the question.
The student saw no point to it, and the teacher was better off with his free time. The fewer chances Trunks now had to suspect him again, the better.
Their lessons in school have gotten that bad already as it was; whenever Gohan tried to make the class even think of the rebels' side, Trunks would just up and begin throwing accusations at everyone. Gohan included. The class found it rather convenient to ignore how he was the first of Gohan's "followers" less than a month before he disappeared, and so, encouraged him.
Then again, Marron…
Gohan was better off without it.
And as for Marron and Trunks… let's just say the lass had it off the easiest… yet at the same time the hardest out of all of the above.
She was happy with Trunks. He seemed happy enough with her. Yet she could imagine how miserable he was. She was too.
The same yet not quite alike, there yet gone…
That was the only way she had to describe what happened to the boy she finally admitted to loving.
Yes, Marron loved Trunks. That was why during the past months she never left him alone, spending every moment she could with him. Spending every moment she could protecting him… pretending with him.
She loved him, she kept saying that to herself… as she did when she betrayed him.
–
"Hey Marr! Check it out!"
The boy called out as the two were in the mall, on one of their dates. They went on as many as they could, as often as they could. Their time together was, as Marron discovered, when Trunks acted the most like himself. A fact a certain half-blooded Saiya-jin who just happened to be their teacher also noticed. Which was why Son Gohan was now following his two students through their dates.
Many described it as "stalking". Others called it twisted boredom.
He described it as… a necessity.
"What is it?"
The girl asked as she ran to him, hanging off his arm. He kissed her forehead, making her smile up at him.
"Nothing, just thought those earrings would look good with your bracelet."
He said, pointing at a jewelry shop's window. She punched him lightly.
"Still going on about that? I told you it was ok. I don't need any more fancy jewelry."
"But I want to buy it for you…"
"Trunks."
"Yes dear?"
"I said no."
"Yes dear."
"You already bought them, haven't you?"
"I wouldn't…"
"Sending your mother to get them for you counts as 'you bought them'."
"Look, they opened a new shop over there."
"You're changing the subject."
"That I am. Dear."
"Call me dear again and I'll have to hurt you, sweetheart."
"Yes dear."
She punched him again, a bit harder this time. It was all in good spirits, though, as both smiled with both their lips and their eyes.
"Tease."
–
–
It was a week before.
Gohan was in Bulma's office, trying to stay out of her way as she ran back and forth.
"I already told you, Gohan, the chip is useless, useless!"
"It can't be useless, Bulma, you made it!"
He said calmly before she disappeared behind another pile of blue prints.. And here he hoped she had called him with good news…
"It –was- worth something… but they messed with it so now it's useless. Can't turn it off, can't even make it work less, can't even get the tracking device in there operational…"
Her voice cracked, and he knew better than to just barge in after that.
"It's useless… I'm useless, Gohan…"
"You're not useless Bulma."
"Gohan…"
"No, please. Of all the idiotic things to say!"
He found her kneeling on the floor behind the pile of paper, looking utterly miserable and defeated.
"Look at me."
He said as he kneeled next to her. She still had to look up to face him.
"You're not useless. You did your best. Those monsters are too much for all of us to handle…"
"Then I'm just holding you back!"
"You're helping us move forward!"
He shouted in reply to her bursting into tears.
"They're monsters, Bulma. Monsters. The only way we can beat them is by getting the four star Dragon Ball back… we're in such a situation traitors can't hold us back. Heck, if I'd be caught…"
"Don't talk like that!"
She panicked, grabbing his arms. He kept his cool.
"-If- I were captured…"
He repeated, the emphasized word only calming the woman a tad.
"…I'd be closer to the Four Star than I am now. That's why there's nothing you can do to hurt us, other than turning downright against us. That's the worst thing you can do to us right now."
"You don't believe that."
"Your husband does."
She stared at him, red puffy eyes wide with disbelief.
"My…"
"His words. Not mine."
She turned away, biting her lip.
"Can you really betray him, Bulma?"
Gohan asked, holding her shoulders firmly.
"Can you betray your son!"
His tone became harsh, as did his grip.
"Your husband's worried sick over Trunks, even though he'll never show it. Trunks needs you, Bulma, the both of you! If you give up on Trunks, no, if you give up on –yourself-…"
"Don't say it…"
"Your son…"
"Please don't say it…"
"Is as good as…"
"Don't say it!"
She screamed, covering her ears. It mattered not as he spoke the word she dreaded.
"…dead."
The word echoed in the room, tormenting both until it was replaced with a chocked sob.
"If only he'd stop looking at me like that, Gohan… like I was the monster… if only…"
"He's not himself, Bulma. We both know that."
"I want my son back, Gohan."
"I know."
"I want to be able to live with the man I love, to raise our son together, to…"
The tears stopped as her voice dropped to a chocked whisper even he with his Saiya-jin hearing could barely hear.
"… to stop making mind-wrapping chips that ruin people's lives."
She didn't scream, nor yelled, nor shouted. She merely looked up at him with hollow eyes filled with despair and torment.
"I want my life and soul back, Gohan."
And as he gently pulled her closer, he felt his own throat tighten with his own unshed tears.
"I know, Bulma."
He knew… that his arms were not the ones she longed to have wrapped around her.
"I know."
–
–
That was a week before. Now, the same man was stalking the bluette's son on his date with a once childhood friend.
"If only there was a way to get Trunks to open up without exposing ourselves to him…"
'Again', Gohan thought bitterly.
"…there is, I guess… but… I doubt Marron'll cooperate. I sure hope she would, though… for her own sake if not his."
–
–
It was a week before when Bulma Briefs was called to 17's office for a… meeting. She could imagine what it was about… she just didn't want to think about it.
"Ah, Bulma! How nice it is to see you!"
18 half smiled as she saw the bluette. The woman merely nodded in return.
"How's Trunks? I sure hope he's doing better… said the weirdest things when we… chatted with him."
She said, eyeing the scientist.
"Weird… things?"
Bulma asked, hoping her panic wasn't too evident.
"Yes. But I suppose you already figured it out… I mean, he had to know something odd, otherwise we wouldn't have had to… 'send him away'."
A bit of Bulma screamed in relief. This, she could act out.
So she did.
Throwing her arms around, letting her voice go up and down, she did.
"Don't talk about that! Those times are over… he came back to me and now he'll behave! I can't tell you how it felt, as a parent, to hear he strayed so much…"
Going out of her way, Bulma grabbed 18's hands and dared to look into her eyes.
"Thank you… for bringing my boy back to me."
'In one piece', she added internally, the nausea almost too strong. 18, however, seemed satisfied, if slightly uncomfortable by the contact.
"My… pleasure… now, if you please…"
She withdrew her hands and fixed her clothes.
"… my brother's waiting for you."
Seemingly emotionally stormed, Bulma nodded, and went to continue up the elevator to 17's office. 18 smiled as the elevator doors closed behind the bluette.
"She sure can act, I'll give her that. Question is, will he buy it…"
–
Metalic doors slid open slowly as dramatic music began playing, the office's dark interior seemingly waiting for lightning to crack through. The chair behind the desk had its back to the newcomer, conceleating the one who pretty much ruled the world.
"Welcome to my parlor…"
The chair began turning around slowly and she swallowed the lump which threatened to form in her throat.
"…said the spider…"
Before Bulme came into view the one… person… she hated the very most.
"…to the fly."
"17."
She hissed softly, shaking despite herself.
"Now now, we're old friends here, now aren't we, Bulma? I even went to all the trouble of looking after… your son."
He looked at her intently, but she moved not a muscle. Snapping his fingers, the floor beneath her feet began moving, slowly yet surely bringing the woman to the android's desk.
"Oh, it's bothering you, isn't it? My apologies."
A clap and the music was gone.
"Thank you."
"Have a seat."
She was offered little choice in the matter as the floor gave way, the only thing between her and the first floor being the chair she fell on.
"Thank you."
"Now now, Bulma. We're friends here. Friends!"
"Aren't friends polite to one another?"
She said with a smile. He chuckled.
"The world's polite to me, Bulma."
He said and spat sideways.
"The only ones who can call themselves my friends are those who tell me what they really think about me to my face. Like… your husband…"
His smiled received quite a sadistic tone as he locked eyes with her.
"…and your son."
He burst laughing. She was looking at him with so much hate, so much anger… so much… true emotions.
"See! Now that's why you're such a good friend, Bulma! You don't lie to me."
"You're a monster."
"I've been called worse."
"You don't deserve my creativity."
Another burst of laughter.
"We should do this more often, I'm having a blast!"
"Glad you're enjoying yourself."
"Cynicism."
He said, suddenly mere inches from her face.
"Gotta love it in a woman."
She spat in his face. He licked his cheek.
"Delicious."
"You need councling."
"Don't I know it."
He sat back, looking rather smug. Bulma looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
"Allow me to get to the point, as there are a few more min-wrecking chips I need you to make, and you seem like five more minutes and you'll blow up, even without a bomb installed into you. You have some paper bags to your left should you need to throw up during the explanation."
"How thoughtful of you."
"I try."
"Spare me."
"Wouldn't you like that."
She bit her lip, forcing herself not to glare.
"What I wanted to tell you way… that I'm annoyed."
They locked eyes, but his were calm, despite his earlier statement.
"I was originally planning on letting you act my little good subordinate, and then almost snap your neck… but I like this better. I know you'll listen to what I have to say and now just nod because your life's on the line."
He paused for a moment, and she couldn't resist the chance he offered her.
"But because we're talking like two mature adults here. Not because… my life –is- on the line."
"Glad you see it my way!"
"Ecstatic, I'm sure."
He chuckled, but then a dangerous look sneaked into his eyes.
"That little trick you tried pulling with that… 'special chip'… gave us quite a headache, trying to work our way around it."
She gulped.
"Oh don't worry, had I wanted to do something to you, you wouldn't be sitting here."
"Lucky me?"
He smirked.
"Sexy. I can so see what Vegeta found in you."
"Either rape me to keep talking, but go on already. I –am- busy."
For a moment he seemed to consider it, but then chuckled, and continued with a shake of the head.
"I just wanted to make sure you're loyal."
"I'm not, which is why we're having this talk."
"Bingo."
She shook her head, causing him to chuckle again.
"What I wanted to say is that should you do anything like this again… well, let's just say that undoing what you did to that chip wasn't all we did that the chip now resting in the back of your cure son's head."
She gripped the chair's handles so strongly her knuckles turned white.
"What… did you…"
"I can make your son do anything I want him to do. Feel whatever I want him to feel. He can die, if I so wish."
Tears began falling from her eyes and blood from her lower lip as she bit too hard.
"Trunks…"
"Is my point made, my dear?"
He chuckled again, deciding that the trademark glare the purple-haired demi Saiya-jin inherited came not from his father's line in the family. Damn, if looks could kill…
"I'm glad we see things the same way, Bulma… oh now stop that, it's not that bad! Not like I asked you to rant out on your husband! Just to be a good little mad scientist! No, no, no… setting Vegeta up…"
How he loved playing with the human mind. Leaning a bit forward, he smiled rather seductively and finished in a low voice.
"…that's your son's job."
–
That was then. Now, Bulma Briefs, proud genius woman, ranking among the world's top ten richest people, now, she was huddled in her bed, the one which she once shared with another. Covers pulled up above her head, she cried.
The tears fell for herself, they fell for her husband, for her son, and for the world who so willingly followed the footsteps of a man-made demon.
-TBC-
