Title: Coming Home – The Meeting

Author: Stormy1x2

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Little Trunks is no fool. He knows there's more to the mysterious teen now living in his house, and he's gonna find out what it is.

Notes: This is another complete one-shot in the Coming Home 'verse. I contemplated making it a separate story but then figured it'd be easier to keep track of them if I made them chapters instead. But they are COMPLETE as is. If I add another one-shot here as a chapter, it too will be a complete chapter – as in do not expect 'updates' or 'new chapters' as though this is an on-going story. It's not. It's complete as it is, and any other 'chapters' will be as a bonus, NOT as a continuation. Asking me to continue it makes no sense because it is FINISHED.

Little Trunks stared at the closed door. He wasn't frowning at the door – not really. He decided he was more or less trying to figure out the secrets behind it. Quizzical! That was the word. Noise came from behind – he twisted his neck to see his mother coming down the hallway, and he kept quiet. She didn't see him, naturally. She passed by the very door he'd been staring at, and paused for a moment. A gentle rap against the white-painted wood. "Mirai?"

The door cracked open. Trunks couldn't see very well from this particular angle, but he could see purple hair, like his. His mother and the Other conversed for a moment in low tones, and then she smiled and walked away. The door slid shut.

Trunks glowered at the door. Now he was moving past quizzical, straight into annoyance.

"Trunks?" A familiar voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up. Actually, he looked down. Goten was standing beneath him, peering up to where Trunks was sitting cross-legged on the ceiling."What are you doing up there?"

"Trying to figure out what's going on," Trunks grumbled, and let himself fall in a loose tumble into a crouch on the floor.

Goten stared at him, and then at the door. "Whaddaya mean?"

Trunks pointed at the door. "Mom said my older brother is going to live with us," he said flatly.

Goten looked excited. "Wow, an older brother? Like Gohan? What's his name, Trunks?"

Trunks scowled. "Trunks."

"Huh?" Goten blinked wide eyes in confusion.

"His name is Trunks," Trunks repeated. "That's what I heard dad say. But then mom said his name was Mirai."

"Why does he have the same name as you?" Goten asked.

"Maybe because his hair is the same color as mine!" Trunks snapped. "I don't know. Yet."

Goten still looked confused, but that wasn't anything new. Trunks was well aware that his best friend in the world was at his level when it came to fighting, but when it came to book smarts, well, Trunks had had to learn to break things down to Goten's level if he wanted the other boy to understand. His mom had said that would be the case with most people in the world. She called it the curse of the Briefs family.

Trunks had decided long ago that explaining things to Goten was okay, but the rest of the world could catch up or get left behind. His mom had laughed at him and said he'd learn one day. Whatever. He refocused his gaze on the door.

"He's in there?" Goten whispered loudly, tip-toeing past Trunks to put his ear against the door. "Is he, Trunks?"

"He's in there," Trunks confirmed.

Goten looked at him and then at the door. Then he did it again. "Umm..."

"What?" Trunks snapped.

Goten shrugged. "I wanna meet him."

Trunks felt his scowl growing. Why did everyone want to meet this guy? And how the hell was he supposed to be an older brother? Trunks wasn't stupid. He knew how babies were born, and he knew that he was the first-born son of the Prince of all Saiyajins. His father proclaimed it enough times to his mother whenever he tried to argue his case that Goten and all members of the family Son should be banned from the compound.

His mother had tried to explain that someone special would be coming to live with them, and then she and his dad had disappeared for three hours in the funny yellow airplane she'd been restoring in the storage garage. That had been three days ago. His so-called 'older brother' had spent two days living in his mother's old underground lab before his mom showed him the bedroom that would be his in the main house.

Trunks had seen this 'older brother' maybe three times, no more than a minute each time. The first time he saw this Mirai, he was moving things around in the lab. Trunks had contented himself with peering through the window until his mom called him away and told him to give Mirai some time. Trunks wrinkled his nose. Time for what, exactly?

The second time had been when Goten and his father came over the next day. Trunks had watched them approach the 'Other' to talk and had wound up flying off. When he and Goten had tried to follow, his father had yanked them back and put them through a tough workout in the gravity room.

The third time had been that morning. Trunks had gotten up super-early and had seen his father having breakfast with Mirai. Trunks had watched, wondering if Mirai actually had any Saiyajin blood in him due to the fact that he had less on his plate then his grandpa took, and ate like a bird. Goku had teleported in and then out again with all three of them – off to do some 'special training', his mom told him.

Trunks was tired of being kept in the dark. If this person, this 'Mirai', was supposed to be his older brother, it was high time he started acting like it. Trunks took a deep breath and then strode over to the door. Balling his hand up into a fist, he pounded on the door, three times.

There was no response. Trunks glared at the door and then yelled, "If you don't open the door, I can break it open!"

Goten 'eeped' behind him.

The handle started turning and Trunks aimed his glare higher up. The door opened slowly and he watched as a young man with the same color hair as him peered down at the two of them. "H-hello..."

Trunks pointed up at him. "What kind of older brother are you?" he fumed. "Gohan doesn't hide from Goten. Are you afraid of me or what?"

The teenager blinked, appearing confused. Then a small smile appeared on his face. "Maybe."

"You should be," Trunks informed him, folding his arms. "Both me and Goten here-" Goten gave a shy wave. "- can go Super Saiyajin and we can fuse into Gotenks and kick your butt."

"That sounds impressive," the teenager commented, and opened the door a bit wider. "I can tell you're both very strong."

Trunks nodded, glad he was finally getting the respect he deserved. "So when are you gonna come out?"

Mirai stared at him. "...What?"

Trunks waved at the room. "You've been hiding from me for three days," he stated. "I know you can't be afraid of me 'cause I saw you with Dad and Goku and they're way stronger then I am, so you must be hiding for a different reason."

From behind Trunks, Goten raised his hand, like they were at school. Trunks watched Mirai bite back a laugh before motioning to the youngster. "Umm, Mirai? Are you really Trunks's older brother?"

It was interesting. Trunks had heard of the phrase 'multiple expressions crossed his face' but had never actually seen it in action until now. The teenager's hand was gripping the door handle rather hard too. Much more pressure than that and it was gonna snap off. "So they've decided to go with that then..."

Trunks blinked and turned his attention from the shaking handle to the teenager. "So tell me how this works, because I know for a fact I'm the first born son of the Saiyajins. How are you my older brother?"

The teenager mouthed the words 'first born son' and a small laugh escaped him. No, that was a giggle, Trunks was certain of it. The teenager was smiling! It was about time. Trunks tilted his head, waiting for an answer. "What did your mother tell you?" the teenager asked.

No fair turning it back on him, but fine. Trunks would play along. "Mom said that you belong to another dimension where the world was gonna blow up and so she and dad took the time machine to go and get you and now you're going to live here."

Goten gripped his head in his hands. "This is so confusing," he moaned.

Mirai was smiling with his mouth but Trunks was convinced his eyes weren't. This was a tricky guy, he decided, and he leveled a glare at him. "You won't fool me," he warned him.

"Fool you?"

Trunks nodded. "Something's not right," he growled. "You've got the same hair as me but you're too old to be a clone. Dad wouldn't let you in the house if you were dangerous, and mom wants me to be nice to you which means she really likes you. You're not an enemy but you're tricky." He scowled and folded his arms, flicking the tail end of his orange belt. "All of you are hiding something from me and I am going to find out what it is."

Goten stopped pulling his hair by the roots and peeked upwards, nodding frantically. "He will, you know," he chirped, hopping back to stand beside his best friend. "Trunks is really smart and he'll figure out what you're up to."

Trunks grinned at Goten for the support and then turned back to Mirai. Who was watching them. And looked like he was about to cry. Trunks flailed mentally, his blue eyes widening in shock.

"Is this what I'd be like if I'd had a normal childhood?" the teen murmured faintly, still smiling, but his eyes had that shimmery thing happening that mom got when Trunks did something for her without being asked. "If I'd had a friend my age?"

"You never had a friend your age before?" Goten asked, looking horrified at the thought. He moved forward and gently tugged on the teens pant leg. "Neh, neh?"

Mirai blinked suddenly and looked down and shook his head. "Yes?" he asked gently. Trunks approved. If he was rude to Goten, he'd had to kill him, and his mother would never give him in an upgrade in his allowance then.

Goten tilted his head up at the young man. "How old are you?"

"E-eighteen."

"My brother Gohan is sixteen!" Goten shouted happily. "You can be friends with him!"

Trunks watched the whole thing play out and he could pinpoint the exact moment when the teenager in front of him had a heart attack – or his heart broke or something. His face went white – which was actually kinda neat until he saw the look in Mirai's eyes as he gazed at Goten. Trunks didn't know how to describe it. All he knew was that the minute he saw Mirai's eyes, he felt like crying, and clutching Goten to him for dear life.

Mirai choked out something – an excuse, a goodbye – and gently shut the door. Trunks could feel his ki though, and realized that Mirai wasn't moving away. He was sitting in front of the door, like he was trying to prevent them from coming in. Which was silly because if Trunks wanted to, he could push the door open, Mirai included, with no trouble at all-

His head tilted to the side. Wheels began churning in his head as he belatedly took in every word the other had said and applied it to the knowledge he had received from his mom and dad; as well as the knowledge he'd gained from years of listening to adults that treated him as stupidly as they did Goku or Goten, forgetting that under Trunks's mop of fluffy purple hair was a mind that was every bit as brilliant as the mind before it in the Briefs lineage. Sometimes he was a bit slow on the uptake – he blamed that on years with Goten shortening his attention span. But now he was awake and processing.

Goten saw what he'd always referred to as his 'thinking face', and was mercifully silent, automatically sticking a thumb in his mouth to keep himself from interrupting whatever through process was going on in Trunks's head.

After a few minutes, Trunks narrowed his eyes at the door. "Goten," he said softly. "Either that guy is my clone from the other dimension, older thanks to the Time Machine, or he's me from the future."

Goten's eyes widened. "Wow..." was the first thing he said. The second: "Is it lunchtime yet?"

Trunks rolled his eyes and let his friend drag him down the hallway. After eating, Goten would be more interested in what he'd discovered, but until then, the concept would be overpowered by mental images of bowls of ramen, legs of lamb and platters of food up to the sky. He could verify this – he'd been in Goten's head so often thanks to fusion, he knew exactly what to expect from his partner in crime. Once he'd satisfied the roaring demon that was his stomach, he'd be able to focus on what Trunks said. Then they'd get some answers.

Goten had gone home almost an hour ago, but Trunks was still deep in contemplation, staring so hard at the door he figured eventually little burnt holes were gonna appear. He and Goten figured with all their powers, laser vision wasn't out of the realm of possibility and they practiced at every given opportunity. Like this. He stared even harder.

"It's not going to work."

Trunks blinked and looked over his shoulder. His mother was coming up the stairs, smiling at him. "What won't work?"

His mother laughed and tapped her lip thoughtfully, before pointing her index finger at him in that trigger-happy way she always did when she figured something out. It was most vexing. "You do not have laser eyes, child. Be content with super strength and the powers of flight."

Trunks huffed and tossed his purple head. "Give me time," he muttered. The impossible was something his family circumvented all the time.

"Only if you give him some," she said, scruffing his hair and nodding at the door he was trying to implode with his brain.

"He's a scaredy-cat," Trunks said. "He's hiding in there."

His mother stopped and sighed, before turning and crouching in front of him. "You're right."

"I am?" Trunks blinked. He was often right when it came to everyone else, but his mother was even smarter than him and it was hard to trick her up. "How? Why?"

She sighed and sat down on the floor with him, angling around to lean against the wall. She opened her arms, and reluctantly – very reluctantly – Trunks crawled over and allowed her to snuggle him against her. "You're a smart little kidlet," she said, her breath ruffling his hair. "So I'm gonna explain this to you once, and then you're going to leave the poor guy alone until he decides to come out. Got it?"

Trunks nodded silently.

"Behind that door is a young man who has seen more fighting, more pain, and more death than anyone else on this planet, save for maybe your father," she said in a calm, no-nonsense tone. She was a blunt speaker, and she never believed in speaking down to Trunks like he couldn't understand her. Her arms tightened around Trunks though. "He has lost everything. His home, his family, his entire world. He was completely and utterly alone when your father and I found him, surrounded by the bodies of a million dead people." Her breath hitched, but then she continued smoothly. "It took some convincing for him to agree to come here, instead of just letting himself die there alone."

Trunks thought about that for a few minutes, not even realizing how tightly he was gripping his mom's t-shirt until he heard a ripping noise. He looked down and saw he'd torn the hem off a part of it. "Sorry."

"Forget it," she said. She was still waiting for him to gather his thoughts, maybe ask her a question. And he he did have questions. But only one pressing one.

"He's me, isn't he?" His mother made a choked noise and buried her face in the top of his head. Trunks had his answer. They sat there for a few minutes while Trunks's brain slotted that information into the relevant holes in his brain. Then Trunks breathed out. "Am I gonna be that way?"

"No." His mother spoke so swiftly he almost didn't finish speaking his full sentence. "He's from a world that never had a chance. A world that was destroyed after Goku and your father and all our other friends were killed. The same issues that created that horrible place have already been neutralized here. While there are always chances for bad things to happen in any future, that particular one will never become a reality ever again."

Trunks nodded, contemplating that for a while. His mother was rocking him back and forth, gently, slowly, like she hadn't done since he was a toddler. He found he didn't mind so much, not while they were talking about such terrible things. It still didn't seem quite real to him, but he couldn't deny the reality of the teenager behind the door. That made it all too real. "I wanted to to die?"

His mom breathed quietly for a few minutes. Then she turned him around so they could look eye to eye. "Let's talk logic for a moment, kiddo," she said quietly, in her 'I-am-your-teacher' voice she used when homeschooling him on the various subjects he needed to pass for the government to be happy. "How can he be you?"

"You said he came from a different world and you confirmed he was me when I asked," Trunks answered promptly.

His mother nodded slowly, not bothering to deny it. She never treated him as stupid. She knew he wasn't. "Can two of you be on a single plane of existence?"

Trunks frowned. "Not usually, no." All the comic books and magic stories he'd ever read would speak of terrible things happening if people ran into their 'doubles' whenever time travel was involved. And wasn't changing the past impossible anyway? All you did was change the outcome of another variant future. The past was immutable.

"So then, is he you?"

Trunks worked through his thoughts. "He's a variant me," he said thoughtfully. "Like a singular possibility out of millions. Because the future isn't set in stone."

His mother nodded. "Do you want to die?" she then asked, and Trunks inhaled sharply.

"No!" he snapped. "I'm happy. I have you, and dad, and Goten, and my family, and the Z fighters and my powers and everything!"

"So, who's he then?" his mother asked softly, pointing at the door.

Trunks thought about it some more. Thought about everything his mother said, thought about how sad the teenager must be, how alone he had to have been feeling. He was surprised to feel sadness bubbling up in his chest. He wasn't going to cry – he was a fighter like his father, and Saiyajins didn't cry for Kami's sake – but he definitely felt bad for the guy. He looked at his mother and saw that she was crying. Well, her eyes were watery. They hadn't fallen yet. Trunks was glad of that – he never knew what to do when his mother cried. He only ever knew that he wanted her to stop and he'd do whatever it took. "He needs help," Trunks said softly.

His mother nodded. "That he does, child of mine," she said gently. "What else?"

Trunks thought even harder, racing through half-formed philosophical thoughts and facts his mother had illuminated. "He was me," he said, stressing the past tense.

His mother nodded. "Anything else?"

"He's my brother," Trunks finished sharply, coming to the conclusion swiftly. "He's what I could have been, and thanks to him, and you, and dad, I have a chance to be something else. I don't have to be so sad. Which means he, as me, doesn't have to exist anymore." He pondered that thought for a moment. "He's here though, so he has to be something. But he can be something else. Anything else. So I want him to be my brother."

"Not bad, baby," his mother said, smiling. "That's it?"

Trunks nodded slowly. "I'm his little brother now," he said, liking the idea the more he ran through it in his head. "He needs a reminder that everything's changed, right? I'm right here. I'm like a living reminder that I am going to be something completely different."

"Thanks to him, in part," his mother said.

Trunks nodded. "I should say thank you," he decided abruptly, and stood up out of his mother's embrace. He turned and rapped on the door smartly. A moment later it opened, and little Trunks stared up into the sad eyes of a teenager who had seen too many bad things in his life. Well, that was about to change as far as he was concerned. He held out his hand.

The teen stared at him for a moment, and then looked down at the outstretched hand. "Um..."

"I'm your little brother, Trunks," Trunks declared, watching the teen closely for his reaction. "We're too different now. You're not me, and I'm not you. Not anymore. So we can be brothers instead. Okay?"

The teenager stared at the hand for a moment, and then looked past Trunks to where his – their – mother was sitting on the floor, laughing and crying at the same time. "Uh... okay. Yes." He awkwardly shook Trunks's hand. "I'm Mirai." He swallowed hard. "Your older brother."

"Hi, Mirai!" Trunks grinned, and launched himself at the teen the way he'd often seen Goten throw himself at Gohan. The teen caught him automatically and Trunks wrapped his legs around the teens waist to keep himself in the air. He rested an elbow on Mirai's shoulder and propped his head up. "So we got a lot of catching up to do. And I know you're kinda sad right now. But you'll get better a lot faster with my help."

The teenager choked out a sound – a laugh, Trunks realized with relief a moment later. "I'm sure I will too," he said.

Trunks snuggled close – but only for a second. "Thank you," he said softly, feeling perfectly certain his brother would understand what he was thanking him for.

'My sincere pleasure," the teen responded, just as softly, and with a nuzzle of Trunks's head that felt like what Gohan sometimes did to him and Goten and felt just as good, just as safe and protective.

His mother stood up and wrapped her arms around them both, and Trunks smiled, absolutely delighted with this turn of events. He'd always wanted a brother like Gohan, and now he had one. There was just one thing. He turned to his mother and waved a finger at her. She cocked her head, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Do NOT make him a Saiya-Man suit," Trunks said sternly. "The sons of the Prince of all Saiyajins do not wear Saiya-Man suits."

His mother burst into laughter. Mirai looked completely confused.

Trunks smiled in satisfaction.

End

This is another complete one-shot. As in, it is finished. If Coming Home has more stories in its future, they will be put here as additional chapters, but asking for a new chapter makes no sense because it is FINISHED. New one-shots are a vague possibility but now that this is out of my system, I want to get back to IronPika.

Still, as always, constructive criticism is always appreciated and respected. And reviews are very inspiring, so if you want to see more in this 'verse, let me know how you felt about this little one-shot. In fact, this one-shot is dedicated to the 6 reviewers who saw the first installment and wrote such encouraging words I had no choice but to try another story in this world. Thank you very much for the encouragement.