A/N: Hey, it's been a while! We (Jordan and Tina) have started working on this story again, but I (Tina) think I will be mostly taking over this story. The first 500 or so words Jordan helped contribute to, but I wrote the rest completely on my own. As such, I'd love and appreciate getting some feedback. Please review! You readers help to shape and continue the story so thoughts/suggestions would be wonderful. Most of all though, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks!

Chapter Two

Trunks woke up with a groan. It was the beginning of a brand new year, but it was hard to celebrate when he was still drowning in the last. The Capsule Corporation CEO slouched over his desk and gripped the mess of papers in front of him before setting them down again tiredly. His head weighed a thousand pounds and no amount of rubbing would smooth out the impression his pen had left on his forehead. He needed to stop sleeping on the job.

Outside his office, Trunks could hear the shuffling of his employees coming and going, chatting idly to each other with coffee in their hands. The smell was jarring. He didn't bother forcing the memories out this time. There was so much strength coursing through his saiyan blood, fueling a power that could destroy this planet, or any planet really. Yet there just wasn't enough strength left in his dried up heart to push away his mother's face for one more day. The way she'd oversleep at her desk, just as he had. The way she'd dart through the house shrieking out commands for him and his father. Spilling her hot coffee all over the dull tile floors when she inevitably ran into the new kitchen table. She'd curse herself for wanting a rectangular surface instead of the round she'd had as a child. She was a mess.

He finally broke. His fists dropped down on his desk, shattering its legs and sending his work crashing down to the ground. His mother's work. His power was fluctuating. The lack of control over himself drove him insane. He hated what had happened. She should have been more careful, and he hated how hypocritical that sounded, given how he had always thrown caution to the wind. But she didn't have any saiyan blood. She wasn't nearly invincible. The explosion that had killed his mother would have hardly left a scratch on him.

He threw himself out of his chair, frantically looking around the room for something to take out all this excess energy on, all this rage… But all he could see was her. Her awards. Her framed pictures. Her furniture. Her flowers. The flowers he'd tended to day in and day out ever since…

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

There on the windowsill were ghosts of his mother's flowers, dark and wilting. They were not yet gone, but they were losing their color, losing their energy, losing their life. They were dying.

"No!" Trunks exploded with energy, sending the scraps of his desk flying into the wall. Papers flurried through the restless air and the metal door that had kept him shut out from everyone and everything for so long now shuddered open, swinging furiously. The display quickly seized the attention of the staff and they scattered hysterically, wanting to witness the scene from their CEO but fearing for their lives in case of an earthquake. Trunks screamed and his aura grew into a deep mesmerizing blue, flashing yellow for a moment as he almost went Super Saiyan. The windows flew open and the potted plants flew with them.

After the outburst, he nearly collapsed with the strength of his emotions. For the first time, he noticed two of his windswept workers staring at him with terror in their eyes. His blood boiled, realizing they had witnessed his vulnerability. Resentment blazed in his blue eyes as he growled, "Get back to work!"

Without a second glance, Trunks plunged through the window, leaving behind a whirlwind of the mess he had created. His heart thumped wildly as the wind rushed through his hair and rustled his clothes. Before long, he arrived back at the compound and touched down hard on the ground. Only one image burned in his mind. Those flowers. His mother's flowers, straight from the garden she had taken to after Bunny's death.

His footsteps thudded loudly as he made his way to the delicate patch of earth around the back of the compound, small, concentrated balls of blue energy forming in his fists. When he saw the colorful array of flowers, still bright and healthy, he let out a sigh of relief.

But fury soon flared in him once more. Trunks suddenly hated the life in the flowers, hated how they were so weak and fragile despite being beautiful and brilliant. Stupid fucking flowers, he thought inwardly and clenched his teeth. He raised his hands and prepared to blast them, surprised when an arm crashed into him and knocked him to the ground.

"Goten?" Trunks narrowed his eyes and pushed his friend off of himself before sitting up.

The spiky-haired boy landed with a small "oof," his expression questioning but concerned. "What's been going on with you, Trunks?" Something was wrong; the murderous look he had just seen in the older boy made that obvious.

Trunks looked away and grimaced. This was Goten. Words generally came easily between the two, but he couldn't find the words to explain this. Where would he begin?

"I felt your ki fluctuating earlier. I was going to check on you, but then I realized you were coming here." His eyes bore into his friend knowingly. "Then I find you about to destroy some innocent flowers."

The reminder of what he had almost done made Trunks burn with shame. "Shut up!" he snarled and pushed himself to his feet, turning his back on Goten.

The harsh, uncooperative words cut into Goten as if Trunks had punched him. "Damn it, Trunks! You're not the only one who's suffering," the younger half-saiyan snapped, fists clasped and ki spiking. Couldn't Trunks see that he was just trying to help?

"And what would you know about that?" he challenged, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. Fuck. He knew he was being a jerk, but he had gone too far this time. Goten didn't deserve that from him. Trunks prepared himself for Goten to attack.

But the blow never came, not physically. "Clearly a lot more than you." Goten's voice contained a note of cold disgust. "Do you have any idea how Bulla has felt? How I have felt?"

Wait, Bulla? Trunks' mouth dropped in shock. "What–"

"Kami, you are so self-centered! You always have been." Goten shook his head and briefly closed his eyes in disappointment.

The words jolted the young CEO and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Goten had never been this angry at him before. "How...how is Chi-Chi?" he ventured, rubbing his neck uneasily.

"Dead," Goten replied, his normally warm voice now hard. "It's been a week now."

Trunks kicked at the green blades of grass underfoot. "Shit… I'm sorry, Goten."

"It's in the past now. They're gone now…" His dark eyes were defiant, but the thickness in his throat betrayed his emotion.

As he choked up, Trunks stepped to Goten's side and rested a hand on his best friend's shoulder. An unspoken understanding passed between the two of them.

Sucking in a breath, Goten continued, "...and we can't lose sight of the present, who we still have. Gohan and Bulla."

Anger flashed through Trunks for a brief moment at how Goten was reacting to their losses. They couldn't just forget their mothers, either. But soon, guilt replaced his indignation as Trunks thought of just how long it had been since he had seen or spoken to either his little sister or the oldest half-saiyan. So this is what he meant. "You came here looking for Bulla, didn't you?"

Goten nodded. "Yeah. But I've been wondering about you, too. So much has changed."

"Definitely," Trunks agreed quietly.

A heavy silence struck the air as the two teens thought of all the trouble they had gotten themselves into when they were younger and half their current size. Images flashed in their minds of how, time after time, Vegeta would come racing after them once they had scrambled from the crime scene, scared shitless. His face would be screwed up in a deep scowl, furious at how the brats' mess took him away from his training given how unbearable the blue-haired woman's shrill wrath was to his saiyan ears. Fuming, the prince would apprehend the children, carrying one struggling boy under each arm back to their mothers. At that point, Bulma and Chi-Chi would sit them down and screech their disapproval, hands on their hips.

"Hey," Trunks spoke up, shooting a glance at Goten. He allowed a small smirk to grace his features. "You hungry? We can see which one of us can really eat the most sandwiches. And, you know, maybe talk a bit more."

Goten gave him a weak smile. "That'd be great."

They walked toward the closest entrance, the sliding glass door connected to the patio and leading to the kitchen. As they approached, Trunks spared one last glance at the flowers, his mind buzzing with thoughts. He noticed Goten staring at him and squashed the slight irritation that sparked once more. Quickly, he opened the door and returned Goten's gaze. "You first."

Goten beamed. "Aw Trunk–"

"Just kidding," he interrupted and elbowed his friend with a smirk.

"Asshole," Goten complained, rubbing his stomach and wincing. Still, he chuckled too after a few moments and then proceeded to follow Trunks inside the compound.

Once they had sat down at the kitchen table with all the components needed to make the perfect sandwiches, they swiftly assembled the pieces until the table bent with the weight of their neat pile. Simultaneously, the two half-saiyans nodded at each other and began to dig in ravenously, pure joy lighting up their faces.

Even with his cheeks full of food, Trunks stuffed two more sandwiches into his mouth and gulped hard. "That the best you can do, Goten?" he taunted and reached for a few more of his delicious creations.

"Jussff you wai'!" Goten replied, spraying tiny bits of chewed food at Trunks.

"Seriously Goten?" Trunks wrinkled his nose in disgust. He rolled his eyes and continued wolfing down the food.

Soon, the pile had disappeared and their stomachs had tripled in size. Goten rubbed his bulging belly and belched noisily. "Do you know who won?"

"I thought you were keeping track!" Trunks accused, before too burping loudly.

"Next time–" Goten paused, holding up one finger. He let out a thundering burp, coughing as he did. "Oh man, a little came up that time," he remarked, throwing his head back in laughter.

Trunks punched the boy in the shoulder. "You are fucking disgusting, you know that?"

Goten grinned. "Says you! When was the last time you even took a shower, huh Mr. CEO?"

"Whatever." Trunks crossed his arms moodily.

Goten leaned back in his chair lazily, resting his hands behind his head. "Anyway, I was thinking next time we could have Gohan keep score."

He had to admit it was a good idea to have a third party track their progress. "Or maybe Bulla, if she's up for it," Trunks suggested. But maybe it was the wrong thing to say.

Goten averted his eyes and fiddled with his fingers. "Yeah, maybe."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Hey Goten," Trunks started. "What's up?"

He held his head in his hands. "It's just…"

"Yeah?"

"I turned Bulla away when she came to see me." Goten grit his teeth. "Mom had just died and I couldn't let her see me so torn up. I didn't want to scare her. I was planning on visiting her tomorrow or something, but when I woke up today, I couldn't find her ki..."

"Weird," he murmured as he checked for Bulla's power himself and came up empty.

"I'm worried, Trunks."

Trunks studied the fifteen-year-old intently. He and Goten had loved teasing Bulla when they were younger, whether it was about the little stuffed monkey that seemed to be attached to the crook of her arm or her relative helplessness compared to them. Though their interactions were generally playfully mean, they both had kept a protective eye on the pouty saiyan princess over the years. Trunks' absence, however, had meant that Goten must have had to take over for him. A mixture of sadness, guilt, and jealousy at their strengthened connection washed over him.

Trunks narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I remember Bulla wanting to go back to school. She left some papers for me to sign. Maybe she's hidden her ki somehow and gone there?"

"No," Goten sighed. "It's New Year's. Schools won't be open today."

The sixteen-year-old stood and paced around the kitchen as he considered the possibilities. "Did she mention anything to you?"

Goten ran a tense hand through his hair. "Bulla doesn't need to say anything for me to know she's heartbroken and lonely. She feels cut off from everyone and I think she's started to believe she's not needed or wanted…"

"You don't think she ran away, do you?" Trunks inquired, his voice strained.

"I dunno. I hope not, but she could have. But where? Where could she have gone so that we couldn't sense her ki? The hyperbolic time chamber doesn't make sense because she'd just be even more alone."

Trunks clenched his hands into fists. "Like I said, she might have learned how to completely hide her power somehow. Maybe she created some sort of device. Kami knows she's smart enough to do something like that."

"That's true," Goten admitted. "Maybe… maybe she went after Vegeta with a spaceship of her own. Either way, we'll have to look around to see if she's left anything behind to suggest where she's gone."

"Yeah, that's true," Trunks agreed and cast his dark-haired companion a determined look. "Get Gohan. He'll be able to help. I'll start looking around the compound."

"Right!" Goten clasped his hand in his friend's before stepping outside the sliding glass door and taking a running start to his lift-off into the air. His hair glowed gold as he ascended to the legendary and sped up powerfully toward his home in the mountains, leaving behind strong gusts of wind in his wake.

Trunks watched him go apprehensively. His mind was spinning with all the events that had happened. Shaking it off, he scanned the kitchen for any trace of his sister while running through the places he would check next. Noticing a stack of papers on the counter, he tore through them and, finding nothing of significance, continued on to the living rooms. Eventually, he knew he would have to search the laboratories. He knew them far better than the Son boys and though he wasn't as much of a scientist as his mother or grandfather, Trunks was more than capable tinkering around with different things. Anyway, he was most likely to find something helpful in there, even if there was no sign that Bulla had visited.

The problem was… he hadn't visited even once since the horrible explosion had killed Bulma there. And Trunks still didn't know if he was ready to face what dark thoughts lay in store for him there.

Fuck.