CHAPTER 24

"Children of Eden, where have we left you –
born to uncertainty, destined for pain?
Sins of your parents haunt you and test you;
this, your inheritance: fire and rain."

-from "Children of Eden," Children of Eden

xxx

Trunks wondered, for a moment, if he had ever been more terrified in his entire life. Of course, he acknowledged to himself, there had been many instances of fearing for his very existence, but those had become somewhat routine over the years. This was entirely different.

Chi Chi frightened him enough when they were in the same room with Ada. Without Ada…well…

The entire situation put him on edge. Trunks could think of only one reason that Chi Chi might want to speak with him – alone, she had emphasized on the phone – and he had no idea how he was going to respond to her.

The night before, Trunks had played the scenario over and over again in his head. It generally began with something like, "Now, Trunks, you're a reasonable young man. So you'll understand when I ask that you step away from my daughter," and the best ending he could envision was his responding that he would be leaving in a month and, since he would likely perish in the battle against the androids in the past, his involvement with Ada would no longer be an issue.

Stop it. You're being ridiculous. Chi Chi is a rational person, right? Whatever she wants to talk about must be rational, too. Right? Right?

Trunks nearly tripped over his own foot when he landed in front of the Son home. He gulped, straightened his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, and approached the door. As he raised his (slightly shaking) hand to knock, the door swung open.

She didn't look upset. Quite the opposite, actually. The older woman smiled at him, stepping aside to let him enter.

"Hello, Trunks! It's so sweet of you to come over," Chi Chi beamed, closing the door behind him and gesturing toward the kitchen table. "Ada told me that you generally spend your mornings training. Not to worry – I won't keep you from it too long. How about some tea?"

Trunks pulled out a chair and slowly sat down. "Oh – I – yes, please," he stammered, folding his hands and putting them on the table in front of him.

The kettle was already steaming (She's prepared, he thought.), and two cups sat atop saucers on the counter. Chi Chi slowly poured the boiling water over tiny strainers filled with leaves, then carried the saucers to the table. She put one in front of Trunks before taking her own seat opposite him.

"Thank you," he said, bringing the cup to his lips almost immediately in an effort to delay conversation. The tea was scalding hot, and, in any other situation, he would have yelped. This time, he gulped it down in spite of the feeling that his esophagus was aflame.

"You might want to give that a moment to cool down, Trunks," Chi Chi said with a small laugh.

Embarrassed, he merely nodded as he set the cup back down.

"So. I said that I wouldn't keep you long," she began, her face suddenly becoming serious. "But I do want to talk to you."

"A-alright," Trunks replied, now trying to figure out what he should do with his hands. If he put them on the teacup, his nervous grip could break it. He instead folded them again and placed them on the table, just behind the saucer.

"I probably don't have to tell you that I don't like this whole arrangement between you and my daughter," Chi Chi said, clearly annoyed. Trunks reddened and looked down at his hands. "But if it's lasted this long, my opinion obviously doesn't matter very much."

She paused, took a small sip of tea, and folded her arms.

"I think you're a good boy, Trunks," she said, voice softening slightly. "I really do. But…"

Trunks slowly looked back up at Chi Chi. He had never seen her at a loss for words. In fact, he considered, he'd never seen her look so unsure, either. The sudden change in demeanor reminded Trunks of those few moments throughout his life when he'd seen his mother break down, and he was overcome by the impulse to put a hand over hers, to say something kind, to reassure her in some way.

But he didn't. He waited, silently, wishing desperately that Ada were there.

"When I married Goku, I thought that our lives would be simple. His prize money from tournaments was decent – enough for us, anyway – and he loved fighting, and I loved that he loved it. And so it was enough. And we were happy."

Chi Chi smiled ruefully, every year of her troubled life seeming to multiply itself in the lines beneath her eyes.

"I thought it would go on like that. Forever. Even after those horrible Saiyans coming to Earth, I held out for that. For our dream."

At the mention of the "horrible Saiyans," Trunks felt a stab of shame. His own father had tried to destroy this woman's husband; worse, had tried to kill her child.

"And then again, after Namek, I thought…well, that things would go back to the way they'd been before. Happily ever after, and all of that."

Chi Chi took another sip of tea and closed her eyes wearily.

"Trunks. My only son was taken from me because he chose to fight a battle that he knew he could never win." Her voice broke slightly, but she continued. "Years of my son's childhood were taken from me because of his father's desperation to protect this planet. To protect us."

Chi Chi's teacup shook slightly in her hands as she raised it to her lips. After setting it back down with a small 'clink,' she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked directly at the man sitting across from her.

"I don't want that for my daughter, Trunks. Her entire life has been pain, mourning, and loss. Partly because of forces that none of us – least of all she – could control. Partly because of…" Chi Chi's voice broke again. "Because the people around her let her down when she needed them most."

Chi Chi, Trunks knew, was not one to admit fault. And yet, in her own way, she just had – and to him, of all people. The regret dripping from the woman's voice was disconcerting.

"I know that you've lost a great deal, too, Trunks. I know that. But she…" As Chi Chi's voice began to break for a third time, she squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth, and steeled herself. Back to business.

"She deserves better than that."

Trunks felt his heart sink. This was precisely the conversation that he'd feared they would have, and, as expected, he had no defense. He began to gather his thoughts, making a mental list of the reasons that this discussion was absurd. Ada is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. She's always known the risk. We both have. I don't want to leave. I don't want to die–

"I don't know what your plans are once you've returned from your...trip. But my baby girl deserves someone she can depend on."

Trunks' mouth fell open slightly, and he stared, wide-eyed, at Chi Chi.

"Well?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. "What's your plan, Trunks?"

"My…plan?" he managed, attempting to collect himself.

"Yes, Trunks," Chi Chi retorted with a hint of irritation. "Your plan. I don't suppose," she said severely, "that you were thinking you'd just carry on with whatever it is the two of you are calling this relationship."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well?"

Trunks had no response, both because he was having trouble comprehending the turn the conversation had taken and because he wasn't entirely sure what Chi Chi was getting at.

Fortunately, she provided a quick answer to the latter.

"Once you've returned, you have no excuse not to marry Ada. Do you understand?"

Trunks nodded slowly, still at a loss for words.

"Good. This whole 'dating' business that you young people are all about is completely beyond me, but you've had your fun with it. Now you're adults, though, and you have to take these things more seriously," she lectured, using her regular tone of voice. "Ada deserves someone sturdy. My goodness, Trunks – don't you have anything to say? This is serious!"

He blinked and, as though breaking free of a trance, looked directly at Chi Chi.

"Yes. Yes, I know it is," Trunks said quietly. "I…understand. And I've thought about it. A lot, actually. But, Chi Chi, I'm not going to make any promises to Ada that I'm not sure I can follow–"

"Trunks," she interrupted, a small smile on her lips. "Stop. If my daughter believes that you'll defeat the androids in the past and then come back and rid us of…all of this…then I do, too. So you can drop any of that self-doubting right this instant."

He couldn't help but smile back, albeit slightly. "Thank you, Chi Chi."

"You don't have anything to thank me for. I just want your word that you're going to do right by my daughter, young man."

"I will," he returned eagerly. "You have my word."

Chi Chi smiled more broadly, pleased with herself. "Good. Now, a couple of things. First, you're not to breathe a word of this conversation to Ada. At least not for the time being. Alright?"

He nodded.

"Second, I have something to give you. I wish I could tell you the history behind it, but I'm in the dark myself. All I know is that, after Goku and I settled in here, I found an old wooden box in Grandpa Gohan's shrine. I assume that it was a sort of keepsake box…a container for heirlooms. I really don't know. But it's the best I can do."

xxx

There was always something invigorating about cleaning day. It was something of a renewal of oneself as much as a renewal of the home. And, oh, how desperately they needed that. At least, Chi Chi frowned at the thought, her daughter needed it. She put down the rag she had been using to scrub the tile floor and stood, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm. Then, pulling aside the small curtain covering the kitchen window, Chi Chi studied her daughter.

Ada had been in the garden since dawn. To Chi Chi's surprise, the girl had risen even earlier than Chi Chi herself. She wanted to chalk it up to an eagerness to get started on the many chores of the day. Or perhaps Ada had just wanted to watch the world come to life with the return of the sun. Chi Chi knew, of course, that this was mere wishful thinking. Her daughter's insomnia, however well she attempted to conceal it, was no secret to her.

Nightmares rarely visited Chi Chi anymore, growing less and less frequent as Gohan's death retreated further into the past. Every now and then, though, some horrific dream would awaken her with a start in the wee hours of the morning. She would then go to fetch a glass of water, drinking it slowly and waiting for the remnants of the nightmare to fade from her mind. And on these rare occasions, she would tip-toe past her daughter's room, peering through the crack in Ada's door. Each time, she would find Ada sitting in the bay window, staring out at the stars.

Now, as Chi Chi watched her daughter relentlessly wage war against the weeds in the strawberry patch, her brows knitted. The plan had been that Trunks would return within two days of departing for the past. After three days, then four, five, one week, one month…Chi Chi had watched Ada withdraw further and further into her own mind. She spoke less and less, and her mother would sometimes walk into a room to find her staring, trance-like, at nothing in particular.

The end of the summer had come, and the leaves had begun to turn myriad fiery shades. The androids had attacked East City again, this time leveling (intentionally, surely) every structure that had been destroyed and rebuilt over the past two decades. There was no estimate of the dead. How could there be when there was no longer any estimate of the living, either? The last brave souls that had stubbornly held out for years had retreated underground shortly thereafter. The city was a ghost town, both figuratively and literally. When its inhabitants ventured to the surface under cover of night to check water mains or forage in ruined apartments, they swore that the dead would follow them, just outside the periphery of their sight.

Autumn passed, and the Son women gathered late crops and split firewood, much as they always had.

The winter had been hard. There were many nights of sleeping on the floor in front of the fireplace. There were days of gathering snow into buckets to melt for water because the well pump had frozen underground. They both had grown thin. Ada had grown thinner.

With the spring came a wildfire that consumed thousands of acres of ancient forest, felling centuries-old trees in mere minutes. People had pretended that one of the few remaining power lines had gone down, igniting the blaze. Or a generator had malfunctioned. Or someone hadn't kept a close enough eye on their trash while they burned it. There were many theories about the fire's origin, and no one believed any of them. They knew how it had started.

The weather had been fair, planting had gone well, and now, as May turned to June, the tenth month of Trunks' absence set in.

Chi Chi watched Ada rise from her knees outside, standing and (fruitlessly) attempting to brush the dirt from her skin. At least she had put some weight back on. Indeed, thought her mother with something like cheer, Ada looked as strong as she ever had.

Perhaps she was on the verge of something. Enough time had passed, Chi Chi told herself, for Ada's memories of him to begin receding. For her loneliness to start to ebb away. For her heart to begin beating again.

Time, of course, heals all wounds.

Chi Chi's gaze fell on a framed picture on the mantelpiece. Goku, arm linked with her teen-aged self, clad in white taffeta and silk, beamed back at her.

Or, at least, they say it does.

xxx

"Hey there."

Though the voice was only a whisper, Trunks jumped up into a sitting position, instinctively balling his hands into fists.

"Sorry!" The voice behind him said. "I didn't think you were asleep!"

He turned to see Ada approaching from the hallway, the blanket from Trunks' bed wrapped tightly around her. She had stopped several feet away from him, one hand cupped over her mouth.

His breathing began to slow again, and he managed an exhausted smile. "It's alright," he exhaled. "I wasn't. At least, not quite." Trunks lay back down on the palette of blankets spread haphazardly about the floor, patted a spot to his left and raised a single lavender eyebrow. "Speaking of which, why aren't you?"

"Bad dream," Ada whispered as she tiptoed across the floor and sat down beside him. He propped himself up on one arm and looked up at her.

"What about?"

"It's not important. Just a dream," she replied with a slight crease in her brow. Trunks stretched his left arm across the floor behind her. She obliged his invitation, lying down and placing her head beneath his chin. It seemed silly to admit, but the world felt somehow safer with his arm around her.

"I didn't know you still took up your sentry post like this," Ada said.

"Old habits," he replied. She could almost hear that characteristic, slightly-sheepish smile in his voice.

"Nothing new from the radio?" she asked.

"Not for the last couple of hours. I think those two must've gotten bored after a while. Leveling buildings can only be entertaining up to a certain point," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Hey," Ada whispered, picking her head up from his chest for a moment and looking directly down into his eyes. His features were visibly hardened, even in the dim glow emanating from the nightlight in the hallway. Trunks returned her gaze but said nothing.

"Chin up, baby," she said and kissed the end of his nose. As expected, this drew a smile from him.

Trunks held her gaze a few moments longer and brushed a lock of ebony hair from her eyes. "I wish you were coming with me."

She smiled sadly at him. "It might get a little cramped in the time machine if I have to sit on your lap."

"I don't think I'd have a problem with that," he returned, wrapping his arms about Ada and squeezing her to him tightly. "In fact, I plan on getting quite used to it." He drew the tail of her shirt up and began lightly running his fingers up and down the small of her back.

Ada smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Brief?"

Trunks chuckled a little and gave her a slightly devilish grin. "I'm not sure that I need to."

"Ohoho – someone needs to check your ego, sir."

"My ego?" False shock painted his face. "I'm sorry, miss, but you're making assumptions here. It's entirely possible that you're the one who's going to need to do the seducing."

"Huh," she replied in flippant mock fascination. "I'd no idea that you'd lost interest in me. Well, in that case…" Ada rolled off of him and onto her back. "I suppose I'll just say goodnight." She closed her eyes, pulled her blanket around her, and turned her back to him.

Ada smiled in satisfaction when, about 30 seconds later, she felt Trunks sidle up to her from behind. He put one arm around her and pressed against her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and his heart beating – more rapidly than usual – against her back.

"Do you remember the last time that we were here like this, in front of the stairs, together?" he whispered from behind her.

"Mm-hmm," Ada replied. They lay in silence for a few minutes, the rhythm of their breathing nearly in sync. "I think I knew, even then. Even if I never would've admitted it."

"Knew what?"

"That…it was you. That it could only, ever be you." She took his hand, pulled it to her lips, and kissed his knuckle. "That it would always be you."

"Always?" he asked, closing his eyes and touching his nose to her hair. Ada's scent – lavender, and something else with which he was intensely familiar but never quite able to place – gave him peace. Trunks wished, for a brief moment, that he could bottle it and take it with him when he returned to the past.

After several seconds of waiting for her to answer, Trunks felt Ada's ki begin to spike. Half of a minute passed, and then sixty seconds. Worry began to tug at his thoughts. It wasn't like her not to reply unless she was thinking deeply about something, and she surely wouldn't need to think too hard about–

"Trunks?" She jarred him from his train of thought.

"Huh? I mean, yes?" He felt her squeeze his hand. Another pause.

"There's something…I've been thinking about something. And…I need to ask you. I need to ask you for something. To do something," Ada said, her voice shaking slightly. She pulled away from him suddenly, turning over onto her back to face him. Trunks propped himself on his elbow, his eyes just inches from hers. What was going on? Why was she suddenly so concerned?

"Anything. You know that," he said, trying to make himself look calmer than he felt. She studied him, her eyes never leaving his.

"Before you leave," Ada said, her voice cracking slightly. She paused again.

"Ada," Trunks finally whispered with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "you know you don't ever have to be ner–"

"Marry me."

Trunks felt his eyes widen and his mouth open involuntary. He stared at her for a moment, then blinked, waiting for her deadly seriousness to dissolve into playful laughter. They had been joking around, hadn't they? Just a few minutes before? Playing around? She was always trying to pull one over on him…

But the only change in her expression were the lines of worry that deepened in her face with every second that he remained silent.

"You're…you're serious," Trunks said, awestruck, stating a fact rather than asking a question.

"Of course I'm serious," Ada replied.

More silence.

Trunks watched small, sparkling specks gather in the corners of Ada's eyes.

"You don't want to, do you?" she asked, horrified, as the tiny specks began to run down her cheeks.

"No!" he replied, his voice slightly louder than he intended. He cupped her cheek in his hand and brushed away a tear with his thumb. "Of course I do! I just…" Trunks opened his mouth to speak – and then closed it again – several times as he searched for words.

"Just what?" The tears were flowing more quickly now.

"Well…that wasn't the plan," he finally managed, desperate to say the right thing, yet completely unsure of what the 'right thing' was.

"Plan?" she asked incredulously. "I didn't know we had a plan."

"I mean, we didn't have an official one, I guess…but when we talked about things, it seemed like, you know, I go back, do what needs to be done, then take care of the androids here, and then…everything else after that." He continued to struggle, wishing more than anything that this situation would just – poof – disappear. That this conversation never would have started in the first place. Not now. Not yet.

"Please, Trunks," Ada whispered. "Please. Before you go. No one else has to know."

Trunks closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Ada?"

"What?" she squeezed her eyes shut, as though waiting for a painful blow.

"Hey. Look at me," he said, running the back of his hand along the side of her face.

She opened her eyes and pressed her lips together in an effort to stifle a sob. Trunks locked eyes with her, unblinking.

"Ada, it isn't that I don't want this. I do. More than…almost anything. But…" He gulped. "That's not the story that I want us to write."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

He brushed the hair from her eyes and gave her a small smile. "When I marry you, it's going to be the beginning of…forever. Not some secretive, desperate–"

"You won't do it, then," she whispered, closing her eyes slowly.

She so rarely asked anything of him that it felt like his heart was breaking.

"No," he managed, his voice creaking. "I won't. Ada, look at me."

Ada opened her eyes again, reluctant to meet his gaze.

"Marrying me wouldn't…it wouldn't make it any more likely that I'll make it back."

She began to weep silently, pressing her forehead to his chest. He held her there, brushing his fingers through her hair, as she cried herself to sleep. His thoughts wandered to the small silver ring, wrapped in ancient silk, nestled deep within the inside pocket in his jacket. Had its original bearer been forced to wait for her lover to return from some war of centuries past? What had she been like? Had she received the ring in love? Or had it been a mere formality, a symbol to seal a marriage of alliance or convenience? Did Grandpa Gohan have a wife? Had it been hers? Or perhaps his mother's?

Or perhaps it had never been worn. Perhaps its original intended had been separated from her love, by dint of fortune, fate, or death, forever.

xxx

Trunks watched helplessly as the newly-perfected monster sent his father's body flying into the ground with the force of a meteor strike. They had emerged from the Room of Spirit and Time only a few hours before, but Vegeta, in that short time, had neatly obliterated their odds for survival.

The young man could hear nothing but blood coursing through the veins in his temples. He did not think he had ever been angrier in his life. Indeed, the force of the emotion was so foreign that he could not determine the cause. Was it anger at Cell as the beast treated his father like a child's plaything? Perhaps. His hatred for the monster seemed to grow exponentially by the second.

And yet, Vegeta had brought this destruction upon himself. More than that, he had brought it upon them all. Foolish, ignorant, prideful, vain.

Selfish.

A year of life – that gift so precious, so uncertain in his own time – sacrificed to defeat this monster, and Vegeta was prepared to throw it away for the opportunity to prove himself. And if he lost? If Cell ended them all because of Vegeta's arrogance? So be it. This man was prepared to gamble the safety of the entire human race – his own son, both infant and adult, included – for bragging rights.

Monster.

Trunks felt his body, his mind, every fiber of his being explode.

I will not die here. Not like this. Not because of him.