A/N: So, I had no idea my hiatus was actually going to be a hiatus :/. I had a lot of work-related changes, so this went to the backburner and now I've got some time again, finally! Anyway, thank you to kyrarihanna, Hikariko93, Selena, Tasi (Thank you!), YellowWomanOnTheBrink (thank you! That means a lot), Anzu Brief (I honestly hope you still read this because I love your perspective of analysis and you pointing out that Trunks is under-utilized. I love Trunks' character and this story is meant to be very Trunks-heavy), Brii-chan14 (I like what you're thinking!), Kezzstar, Kias, Vgirl2019 (I would never get rid of Bra as a character! Lol), lmamc, BV4ever (I like how you analyze Vegeta, he still has a lot of growing to do, and no, at this point, Bulma's death is more of a shock to his system than anything.. Trunks was far more emotionally driven and therefore, able to tap into it), hisuichanxx (I'm glad it makes you think because the idea of Vegeta-sei being corrupting is kind of what I want to explore, thanks!), Kitty in the Box (Trunks' pain and volatility is going to come into MAJOR play in this story), maxridelover, a guy 1013, and elianni. I appreciate you guys! Sorry for the wait and happy reading!

Trunks was going away from them now.

Vegeta stared at Bulma's body, thinking. He was thinking of how often she had told him that she loved Trunks with everything in her… what would she say now if she knew where he was going?

She was truly dead. He had spent years idly threatening her. He had told her that he would throw her off the roof, snap her neck, blast her through the heart, choke the life out of her, singe her to the bone.

"Don't you think I would have attacked you myself if that was what I intended?" he had once asked her when Trunks had viciously defended her against Nappa. But she knew him then.

"I saw the look on your face."

And now, looking at her still body, he knew for certain that he had never really felt the desire to cause her harm. The thought was so foreign to him, he hadn't recognized it when he had it. Every warning he had laid at her feet…hadn't meant anything.

He had returned down here to move her. He didn't trust anyone else to do it, he knew well enough how hated she had been by his people. And this stupor had come over him suddenly, like something thicker than blood was running through his veins, slowing his intent. He only stared at her.

I can make you stronger, something whispered to him with her voice. She didn't move. Her hair, deeply blue, hung over the edge of the table like a shimmer of waves. Without thinking, he finally moved forward, until his hand brushed hers…and the spell died—her fingers cold and stiff and nothing like the grasping, warm things they had been.

She had made him stronger… that he couldn't deny. But never strong enough.

But their boy…

His powerless, human mother drew her last breath and suddenly, Trunks was another thing entirely. A Saiyan god.

And what had she been filling his head with? Things that she had never told him—magical wishes and impermanent death? He would have been roused to anger…but what was the point? The woman was gone.

And he couldn't pretend that he hadn't known Bulma's true game—to free herself and Trunks from under him. And he knew what he would have said had she told him about travelling across planets to have wishes granted. It was nothing more than foolish dreams.

Looking at Trunks now, there were no silly fantasies in him anymore. The boy Trunks was just as dead as his mother. And the creature that was his son…that was something to deal with when he returned.

Trunks would leave this night and he would leave with Vegeta's blessing. The Saiyan King scooped up Bulma in his arms, not as pliant as she had been in life, but still weightless.

And he walked and walked with her in his arms, in the dead dark quiet, until he arrived at the prepared place. A small chamber in the King's quarters where she would be preserved until Trunks succeeded. Or not.

There was no other route to where she would be kept except through his new chambers, which meant that no one would have access to her except Vegeta. And once she was safely deposited there, he turned and left, heading to the landing bay.

"Bring up your arms and block!" Vegeta snarled, hit after hit whistling down on his son with bruising force. "Far too many Saiyans think dodging and blocking is an art they shouldn't bother to learn and remain low-class punching bags. I will not have it, brat!"

Exhausted, Trunks attempted to do as instructed, arms coming up only to be knocked away by the thrust of Vegeta's next left hook.

"Defend yourself!" He had never gone quite so hard on the boy, but he couldn't stop, unloading his fists with power he wouldn't expect an Elite-class, fully grown Saiyan to handle. But this was his son, almost ten years old, with a potential that was under-utilized and inconsistent. "I'll be damned if you get shown up by my father's science experiment again!"

At those words, the invoking of Geta, the bloodied grin faded from the boy's face and his arms came up again, just below the blue of his eyes. He didn't allow them to be knocked away this time. But his returning swipe was easily blocked. Vegeta reversed direction on him and took him out at the knees. The nine-year old crumpled momentarily and hurriedly righted himself. That was more like it.

After all this time, Vegeta still had a difficult time discovering Trunks' motivations. The boy never outgrew his mother's emotionalism… happy and sweetly-natured as a woman one moment, determined and vicious the next.

Bulma was always a handy motivation, but it wasn't truly an option to imperil her enough to make the brat angry. But a newly-discovered trick was the reciprocation of the competitiveness that Geta had always given Trunks…the dislike and the jealousy. Vegeta used both as often as he could, whenever necessary.

The boy was set with a furious gleam in his light eyes and Vegeta dodged out of the way, planning to do so until the boy tired himself out. Then, if he was in a bad mood, he might just further the beating. Trunks was yelling with every attempted blow in effort.

What was the solution, was also the problem: there shouldn't BE a competition between Trunks and the clone. By all indication and Bulma's excessive tests, Trunks' latent abilities should have outstripped the clone brat's by now. He wasn't trying… no matter what the reason behind the power of a half-breed, Trunks should have been showing better than the other boy…and Vegeta wasn't going to be made a fool. Not after going against every Saiyan instinct by bringing the half-blood here and seemingly shaming himself in the eyes of the King and the Elite alike.

He was lost in this pondering when Trunks caught him in the side with short-lived burst of speed and strength, enough to send Vegeta six feet backward and actually touch the mat below them. Victory lit in the boy's eyes as he sagged out of his fighting stance, thinking the bout over. In response, Vegeta lunged forward and socked him right in the nose, more than knocking him off of his feet. There was a savagery about the punch, Vegeta's frustration bubbling over because the boy trusted him to fight fair. Crimson bloomed on the boy's face where he connected and Trunks looked wide-eyed up at his father's towering form and those squinting, uncompromising black eyes.

"I told you to keep your arms up."

While Trunks and Nappa loaded their belongings into the ship, Vegeta strode into their midst. They both sensed his presence, and without hesitation, Nappa dropped to one knee and bowed his head in reverence to the new king.

Trunks paid no such homage. He turned to his father with an indifferent and bored sort of expectation, his eyes so clear you could see right through them.

"Where is she now?" he asked. He could only be talking about his mother. Vegeta grunted at the boy's empty tone.

"She's in the royal wing in a room that only I have access to. Connected to the King's quarters. And she will remain there either until you are able to accomplish your mission or until you return."

"I'm coming back for her," Trunks said. The boy was pale, but determination was etched in all the angles of his face. "Even if I don't…" he couldn't even seem to utter the possibility that he would fail, and he coalesced into stone. "That's all I'm coming back for."

Vegeta's lip curled up slightly at the challenge in Trunks' voice. He took Trunks' meaning plainly. The boy planned to take his mother and escape this planet at the earliest opportunity. And he had no mind to let his father stop him. "Don't screw this up," was all he said. There was no point in fighting a battle that hadn't arrived yet. Trunks could say what he wanted for now…

"You don't screw it up either," Trunks said, and then he looked up at his father with eyes that strange color, the way that his mother used to. "Your Highness," he added with an irreverent pause.

It arrested something in the pit of Vegeta's stomach when he saw that fearless glint. He tipped his head in an acceptable sort of acknowledgement, and Trunks' eyes iced over once more, dying again and again.

And Vegeta thought that maybe the boy was far more him than could ever meet the eye.

Trunks then turned his back on Vegeta…and all of Vegeta-sei with it.

Nappa hesitated, as if expecting some order, or perhaps wanting to extend some parting words…but Vegeta couldn't tear his eyes from his son's back. That stiff, burdened young back that hated them all. Nappa bowed stiffly.

"Please look to your safety, sire."

Vegeta could hear the warning dimly in Nappa's words…Nappa, who knew more of the danger that had arisen than anyone else, and who wouldn't be around to be at Vegeta's back. He understand the concern, but it seemed like a dull throb just as much as anything else.

"Go, Nappa…and do not delay for a moment."

"Yes, Your Highness."

And then they were gone. Vegeta didn't watch the ship leave the hanger, he knew Trunks expected no send-off nor would he want one. For the briefest moment, Vegeta couldn't help but think again about how Bulma would have shrieked and nagged over her coddled boy leaving the planet by himself. And then he thought of it no more.

"You gave me no choice but to come with you. But I've told you before, you will have to kill me before I let you destroy my boy."

No more.

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Trunks pressed his sweaty face to the glass as he looked blankly at the space unfolding before him. It was infinite.

It was alone.

"I shouldn't have thought that," Trunks muttered. "I'm sorry, Mom. I won't—"

He stopped himself. He might just become a monster. But if he did, he wouldn't lie about it.

"I'll try," Trunks whispered.

Once they had entered into the universe, the thought occurred to Trunks—he didn't want Nappa there. Maybe he should just kill him.

And the thought wasn't repugnant to him. It wasn't even an indifferent thought. Trunks wanted to kill the Saiyan. He wanted to shed his blood and see it decorate the walls because he was just so angry. He was angry enough that he could choke on it for a thousand years and it still wouldn't end. He wanted to harm someone, and it he couldn't hurt himself, because if he did, then no one would save Mom. No one would care enough.

So he didn't know what to do.

He slammed his fists against the glass, but it was made to withstand Saiyan strength and he didn't punch too hard. And then he turned and went to the cockpit, where Nappa was manning the controls.

The Saiyan turned when he heard him and Trunks didn't give him time to even ask. He gripped him by the throat, lifting him into the air pitilessly, above his head. Nappa glared down at him like he was a particularly interesting bug, but he didn't try to escape the boy's grip.

"Let's get this straight," Trunks said. "I could have killed the stupid clone if I had wanted to. I could have killed my so-called father, the new King, if I had wanted to. I think we both know it. So imagine what I'd do to you if you upset me?"

He released the hulking Saiyan, who fell right back into his chair without a word.

"Don't upset me, Nappa," Trunks warned. "I won't say it again."

And with all the arrogance of his blood, Trunks strode right back out of the cockpit without a second glance. Nappa rubbed his neck thoughtfully.

"Oh, you'd be proud of him, Sire," he muttered to himself.

And Vegeta would see it for himself, if this mission went off.

Around the corner now, it didn't take Trunks long to make himself at home in the communications wing of the ship. He got a feel for the equipment, hoping that he could figure out how to be half as adept with the stuff as his Mom was.

He shook his head, banishing that to the far reaches of his mind as he input log information and assumed command. The first question would be whether he could communicate with Earth—with the only person he could think of who could and would help him… a man that he barely remembered anymore.

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The sky wasn't even orangey yet, but Chi-Chi was standing at the door of their house, yelling about something. Goku sighed, figuring that if Chi-Chi was yelling, it either meant she made food or she wanted Gohan to come in, and it didn't sound like it was dinner time.

"Gohan, I think your mom wants you," Goku called as his son dropped some radishes and hurried toward the house. Gohan was such a good kid! Always so quick to listen. Goku wondered where he got it from…

He went to gather up his wagon when Gohan zipped back over, eyes wide with seriousness. Goku paused, surprised to see him back so soon.

"No, Dad…Mom wants you, she said it's important and you have to hurry!"

"Okay, Buddy," Goku said, "You keep going and I'll try to be back out." He ruffled his son's hair as he went, causing the boy to groan with embarrassment.

"Hey Chi, what's up?" he said casually, hoping that he hadn't forgotten to do something she had told him to do earlier. Chi-Chi always got so mad when that happened.

Chi-Chi, looking annoyed, passed him the phone. "Dr. Briefs wants to speak with you. He said it's urgent but he wouldn't tell me why."

Goku got a strange feeling as he lifted the phone to his ear. Dr. Briefs wouldn't have called him unless it had something to do with Bulma, and there hadn't been much to say about that for a long time. Goku had even been thinking about going by Capsule Corp, just to see if there was still no ship that could make it to Vegeta-sei… he just kept forgetting to actually do it.

"Goku, I don't know what this is about, but I'm telling ya one thing: Gohan is NOT going with you!"

Goku laughed sheepishly as he walked as far away from Chi-Chi and her mounting temper as he could. "Sure, okay, Chi! Just let me see what he wants first… Dr. Briefs? Are you there?"

Chi-Chi watched her husband's face go from easy-going and unsure to grim and upset…something that she really never saw on Goku's face—not since they had met. Goku frowned deeply and said, "what happened? Did Vegeta—"

Vegeta?

Goku was standing ramrod straight, nodding into the phone. "Trunks is… okay, I'll be there, Dr. Briefs. Give me a second."

Goku put the phone back and turned to Chi-Chi, his face still disturbed. "Chi, I gotta go right now. It's important. Have Gohan bring in the rest of the crop today. I'll be back."

"Goku, wait!" she cried as he jetted off, heedless of her calls. Chi-Chi gave up and stood alone in her kitchen. He never said when, exactly, he would be back.

A/N: Choking is apparently a bonding activity for Saiyans. And Goku has made another appearance finally! And I'm sorry this is so dark, guys, but there's really no other way to write this. The chapters will be longer now that some of the emotional upheaval is out of the way. Leave a review and tell me what you think! I'm pretty glad to be back at this.