I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball Super, or Dragon Ball.
Hope
The snow was falling softly outside their small capsule home, nestled in the woods, far from any city. Trunks worried slightly over the snowstorm. He wouldn't have any issues going out into the forest, but he did fret over the quality of wood that he would bring back. It wouldn't work for any of his future projects if it was too water logged.
His brow furrowed slightly in anxiety. He heard a small cooing sound and turned away from the window to find Mai yawning as she held a small baby—their baby, against her chest. She appeared tired, her long hair tied back into a braid down her back, and slight circles under her eyes.
"Do you want me to take him?" Trunks asked quietly, walking up to Mai quietly. She smiled at him tiredly.
"He's been changed and fed...at least for a little bit," Mai answered gratefully.
"Take a nap, Mai." Trunks took the baby from her arms and expertly held him in the crook of his arm. The small baby gave a small whine, but then quickly nestled into his father's own warm body.
Mai smiled at them fondly, her eyes bright.
"Go on," Trunks said quietly, "We'll be fine."
Mai gave Trunks a small kiss on the cheek and then walked back into her bedroom. Trunks tore his eyes away from his wife's retreating back and looked at his son.
He had pale skin, similar to Mai's and her own dark black hair. But besides those two features, he looked shockingly like Trunks. Most of the time he had a grumpy, brooding expression on his face, an expression that Trunks recalled seeing in the photo albums that his mother had kept of him. He sighed as he looked down at the baby, still surprised that this little person was his own son, his blood.
He felt a shiver work down his spine and Gohan's eyebrow's furrowed slightly, and then he settled back into his father's chest. Trunks walked up to the window and looked at the snow that was falling even steadier on the ground.
He looked back at his boy and thought back to when he and Mai had settled into this dimension. They decided to live very quietly. After all, there was a Trunks and a Mai already present in this time. His mother had supplied them with several capsules and they made themselves comfortable in a small, non-descript capsule house. He recalled the first night that they stayed there, when he had discovered that there was only one bedroom, even though the house had 3 small bedrooms. He and Mai had both blushed at his mother's nosiness, but eventually Trunks had told Mai that it wasn't a big deal and he gave her the bed that night.
It only took three more weeks of living with each other that their affection and love for one another came out. They married the next day, and, only a few weeks later, Mai had found out that she was pregnant.
Trunks cleared his throat softly, remembering the panic he'd felt at the prospect of being a father. He wasn't supposed to be a father. A father was strong—they protected and provided, and neither of those things he had done very well recently, at least in the other dimension, the one that Goku Black had eventually ravaged and destroyed.
He kept that fear locked inside though, his own reservations eclipsed by the joy, anticipation and innocent love in the eyes of Mai as she prepared for the baby to arrive. He coddled her during that time, worried that the smallest thing would hurt her, would hurt their baby.
He was in denial for his own impending fatherhood, but not at the idea that the baby existed. He'd felt the child's heartbeat early enough, strong and steady.
Instead, he focused on what he could control. Obviously, he wasn't meant to be a father, he didn't deserve the honor in his own mind, but he would do his damnedest to ensure security for Mai and the unborn baby.
He trained hard, unwilling to become complacent once again. And, after his own personal training, early every morning, he'd return to their cottage, make breakfast for himself and Mai and then would set off into the woods.
The idea that he initially had was that the baby was going to need a place to sleep. So, he began gathering and chopping down some of the trees. It wasn't a protected forest—but he was careful that not too many trees would go missing all at once. He'd become familiar with the forest during his training, mostly with hunting for game to provide part of the food that he and Mai needed.
He brought back the wood, and opened up the capsule of his mother's old tools, and he began to work. The first cradle he made was beautiful, but he was dissatisfied still.
"I think it's beautiful," Mai said, her slightly rounded belly touching the engravings on the wood.
"It's flawed," Trunks murmured to her. He leaned forward, and held her hand against the wood. "I don't think it will be strong enough for a part Saiyan baby."
"I don't think there's anything strong enough for a baby like that," Mai said, stretching her back out slightly, her hands on the small of her back as she pushed her stomach out.
He frowned slightly at her discomfort. "It's alright Trunks," Mai whispered softly. "It will all be worth it."
Mai stared at the cradle in deep thought. "Maybe you can sell the cradle, if you don't want to keep it? I'd hate for you to throw it out when it's so beautiful." Trunks looked at Mai and then back at the cradle, contemplation filling his mind.
It would be a great alternative.
He nodded at her. "I suppose that will be fine," he said softly. "Not yet though, maybe I can open up a storefront….but not yet."
She nodded at his words, knowing that he didn't want to work far from her, in case anything happened.
She leaned into his touch and said, "Store them in one of the other capsules until then."
He worked hard after that, aiming to create the most perfect cradle for his child. Mai grew larger, and he fretted more, but the two of them, in only a few more months, created their own ideal home for their future family.
During that time, Mai worked in the garden and often quilted, a skill that Trunks never realized that she had.
"No point using sewing needles when you're fighting for your life, is there?" She asked, her own eyes bright as she hand quilted one of the many quilts she made for the baby.
"I suppose not," Trunks murmured slightly, his own hands touching the cradle he'd recently finished.
"It's your best yet," Mai said softly. And she was correct. The wood had been cut, sanded and polished to perfection. The etchings flames stood out against the wood grain, and the small kanji of Vegeta, prince of all Saiyans, stood proudly at the head.
"You're sure?" Trunks asked, watching Mai intensely, waiting for her approval.
As if to answer his question, she placed the small quilt that she worked on in the cradle. Then she leaned in to him and he pulled her close to him, both of them staring at the bed that would soon house their son or daughter.
Trunks looked at the baby, their Gohan, named after his mentor and friend. Mai had quietly suggested Bulma for a girl, and they had agreed, but here was their little boy.
He'd never, ever thought he'd live long enough to hold his own son in his arms. It was surreal, thinking of this child, as his son. His own father had never, ever been a part of his life, at least, before he returned to the past.
He didn't know how to be a father. He'd admitted it to Mai, only a few days leading up to her due date.
He finally panicked and said, "I'm going to disappoint you, I just know it."
Mai looked up at him from her needlework, with annoyance written on her face. She'd been quicker to anger, the further along she was and he worried about distressing her. He'd already screwed up, he decided, and clamped his mouth shut.
"What are you talking about, Trunks?"
Their silence extended several minutes. Trunks blinked several times then said, in a whisper, admitting all his fears, "The baby. What if I can't get there in time? What if I can't protect him? Protect you?"
Her eyes cleared suddenly. She put her hand on her now round belly, and looked at him in contemplation.
"You don't think you'll be there in time? You mean, in case someone attacks?"
Trunks nodded slightly.
"I'll protect the baby too, you know...and nobody knows who we are here. They don't know of our past Trunks. Maybe it's time to let it go."
Trunks flinched and Mai knew she had said the wrong thing. She aimed to correct her answer.
"I don't mean to forget them, or their sacrifice for us."
Trunks' eyes were clouded over, filled with guilt, anger and sadness.
"But, we do need to accept it. Because the future only comes once we accept who we are and what we've done." She looked at Trunks and then said, "Isn't it enough that we have each other? I would have been content with only you beside me for the rest of my life. And now? A baby? A gift that you gave me?" She tugged his arm towards her and pulled him onto the sofa where she sat.
"I never thought I'd be a mother, you know...hard to think about the future when you're always running for your life, you know," she grinned at him. Then she said, in that matter-of-fact way that she had, "I love you, Trunks. And you're being ridiculous. Of course, you'll protect our son or daughter. Of course you will protect me. You always have in the past."
Gohan shifted slightly in his arms, and Trunks startled out of his memories. Trunks looked down at his little boy, whose tired eyes opened slightly in the bright light of the snowy window. His eyes were the same vivid blue of Trunks, and his grandmother.
"Hey," Trunks said quietly, holding him close. Gohan yawned slightly and looked around the room with the quiet alertness that Mai insisted he inherited from Trunks.
Trunks held one of his fingers to Gohan whose small hand enclosed around it quickly. "You and your mother mean everything to me." Trunks said quietly, staring at his son. "I hope-" his voice choked a little bit, "I didn't used to, you know. After Black, things became really dark. But now, when I see you, all I see is hope."
Gohan blinked slightly, at Trunks' words.
"I hope you never have to fight, but I will teach you to defend yourself and those you love, just in case. And I hope you find peace, and joy, every day of your life."
Trunks took one of his fingers and gently drew it down the side of his son's cheek. "I hope that you will know of love, the kind that you give and the kind that you receive. And I hope, more than anything, that I can be the best kind of father for you. Because you are mine, and I am yours. And we are both a part of your mother as well."
Trunks smiled slightly at the slight whine that came from Gohan's mouth when Trunks said the word "mother".
"That's right," Trunks whispered, "She's my favorite too. But you have to give her a break every once in a while so she can recover and make more milk for you."
He shifted the baby into his lap, and faced the baby so he was staring out the window with Trunks, holding him gently against his chest with his spare hand. They settled into the armchair and watched the snow falling outside.
Contentment and peace, ideas that had always escaped Trunks' mind in the past, fluttered through his body, and warmed his heart.
Being a father to this boy, Trunks decided, was the most important thing that he could be. And he could only hope, that Gohan's future was brighter than Trunks' own past.
THE END
Author's Note: This short little one-shot was inspired by the song, "A Baby Just Like You" by John Denver. It's on the John Denver with the Muppets Christmas Album (Which is amazing, ya know?). This will be a tie in to a longer multi-chapter fic that I plan on writing sometime about Trunks and Mai.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!