Bulma had been accepting of everything thrown her way, including a runaway teen. Trunks was relieved to find the window to her borrowed room open for her return, and Vegeta in the Gravity Room, training at such early hours.
"There you are, young man!"
Trunks just about jumped out of her skin when suddenly confronted by a voice she did not expect. 'Well perhaps not as accepting as Mother…' . She shouldn't have been surprised to find Bulma sitting at the desk in her room, in her pajamas, with coffee and the radio on, and seemingly waiting for her. She had kept tabs on where Vegeta was, but she didn't consider Bulma, clearly the most powerful woman on the planet (equals with Chichi). She still closed the window after properly coming in and met Bulma's eyes.
"What the hell were you even doing in Central City?" Bulma demanded answers. "And with baby-you, what went through your mind?"
Trunks frowned, she didn't want to explain herself nor fight, especially as this version of her mother was far more energetic and more motherly in a way that bothered her profoundly. Bulma was already standing in her face, poking at her chest, through the sheath strap, jacket and armor.
"The baby is not me," she corrected with a low, firm voice, while her hand grabbed the one Bulma was poking her with. "Trunks didn't want to let go, and I fled, Bulma-san."
"In your state? Trunks, that was reckless! I got worried sick when I woke up!"
"It was either that or confronting Vegeta-san and risking your family's life."
"And your own," Bulma frowned, but Trunks had a dismissive shrug. "Hey, no. No. I will not have my son -yes, I know, 'not your son' spiel, deal with it, you have two mothers now-. I will not have my son devalue his life like that again."
Trunks couldn't help but see the genuine worry and care, hearing the same tone and words spoken by her own mother, and melted a little. She didn't let go of the hand she had pulled away, and slowly brought her closer, hesitating before deciding she deserved something. They both did. She wrapped her arms around this version of her mother and hid her face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the similar yet different scent.
"I'm sorry. I panicked," the teenager whispered, sliding her hands in the other's hair and under the pajama shirt to touch her bare back. Bulma tensed, the touch was new to her, but she felt safe enough to return the hug through the layers the teen had.
"Trunks.. he hurt you, didn't he?" Bulma asked quietly after a little while in the hold.
Knowing very well who she was talking about, and how clearly she didn't mean physical harm, Trunks let out a little positive hushed whimper and nodded, breathing slowly, pressing fingers on the back, tangling other fingers in the hair, and just indulging in the contact, imagining it was someone else even if just for a moment.
"It doesn't matter. He isn't my father," she wanted to be firm, but her voice only conveyed how bereft she was left with the previous day's events. "I let my guard down, I can only blame myself."
"Oh sweetheart.." Bulma gently stroked her teenager's head and took a mental note to slap the hell out of Vegeta.
Trunks' grip tightened, she wanted desperately to let it all out, but couldn't. Her mind circled back to everything that happened since she arrived for the second time, everything she wanted to tell her mother, but couldn't. So she let out a few words she'd spoken to this world's Bulma when she had been at her lowest on the first trip.
"I miss my mother."
Bulma hugged tighter, trying to reassure, to be there for her teenager, until Trunks let her go and slowly pushed away, eyes unfocused.
"I wanted to apologize for taking off with your son like that. He just didn't want to let go, so I just.." she shrugged a little with a tiny smile. "Mother often tells me 'there's no use fighting your grip', so I guess he is the same as me."
Bulma chuckled at the wording of her alternate self. She had come to a similar conclusion about her baby too, especially when the little rascal chose who was on baby-duty and refused to negotiate once his mind was set. Both Trunkses were really similar, after all, despite the age difference. If she had tried to pull away from the hug first, she doubted the teenager would have let her.
"What matters is dealing with Cell. I will handle this afterwards," she tried to reason, more for herself. Bulma gave her would-be son a gentle caress on the face, under the loose hairs, understanding, and the teenager put a hand over hers, leaning into the touch.
"I'm sure Son-kun will find a way to beat the bastard to a pulp, Trunks." Bulma was tough as nails, and Trunks knew her mother had also trusted her oldest friend with such affairs. After all, her first mission was to make sure Goku didn't die of illness. Trunks allowed herself to have a little faith and nodded.
"Want to come to the lab? Sixteen has asked to talk to you."
Trunks agreed, and with the baby monitor and her coffee, Bulma led the way. The following hour was spent in the lab, Trunks witnessing how Bulma, who changed into her red overalls, had started repairing the Android by looking at digital models of the damage drawn the day before by Dr Brief, and the occasional schematic found in the hard drive brought to her prior.
Sixteen was conscious, out of his green armor, laying on his back on a table, and welcomed Bulma and Trunks with a soft 'good morning'. Trunks remained tense, this was Dr Gero's creation, built to kill Son Goku, but Tama as well as a couple of budgies were happily playing on his hands, chest and shoulders.
Trunks trusted no one, and especially not an artificial human, but then again, he didn't jump her when she went after Eighteen during their encounter. 'He's strange,' she observed. She was all but useless for the robotics aspect of Bulma's work, though, the schematics were too complex, the data was unreadable, and even if she could use the soldering iron on small electronics, repairing something so complex as an artificial brain was far out of her skillset.
"Bulma-san said you wanted to talk to me," she eventually let out. Sixteen had been answering questions when Bulma worked on his brain, had acknowledged her presence, and chatted about a whole lot of different animals from the menagerie… but Bulma said he wanted to talk to her.
"Affirmative." Sixteen said, but didn't elaborate. Trunks asked with her eyes, then a raised eyebrow. But nothing, and the Android was looking back at her, so she was sure he didn't miss her probing.
"So?" She eventually said more openly, not liking the silence and how the Android hadn't explained.
"Data currently inaccessible. The sender requested for privacy." Bulma stopped soldering for a minute, curious at the wording. She shared a glance with Trunks, who looked about as confused, and then she looked at the screen; Sixteen was wired into the computer, that served more as a monitor to Sixteen's systems, so the dynamic code would show and data could be recovered.
"Alright big boy, I'll finish this part, then get myself and baby-Trunks some breakfast." Bulma went back and did as asked. She placed back some components into the skull, disconnected from the computer, gave the ok for Sixteen to move and went on her way.
Trunks just stared expectant, arms crossed, distrustful of the Android who was slowly sitting up, then standing up from the table. The budgies took off then landed on the android's shoulders, while Tama jumped off and went to Trunks, intending to climb up all claws out until Trunks knelt and took him in her arms. The cat wasn't happy with that and clawed his way up to her shoulder and sat there, like he usually did on Dr Brief's.
"Let's walk," she offered eventually, if they were going to fight, it was better to do it elsewhere than in the lab.
Sixteen agreed and they made their way to the menagerie. The Android saluted all the animals he crossed paths with, by name even, and most of them seemed to trust him enough to approach. The experience was a little surreal to Trunks, but she accepted the robot liked nature and nature liked him back. But she still kept an eye on him, ready to destroy at the first hint of threat. The lushness of the Brief menagerie, the greenhouse and beautiful spring flowers wouldn't distract her, but pleased the Android nonetheless. They walked around as they talked, Android Sixteen paying attention to the nature, Trunks paying attention to Android Sixteen.
"The Briefs explained to me you were from the future," Sixteen started.
Trunks let out a little sigh. "Yes. I am from the future, an alternate one which has been ravaged by Seventeen and Eighteen's murder spree."
"Negative. Seventeen and Eighteen killed no one."
"In this world they didn't have a chance to do that because of Cell."
"Affirmative, they were absorbed by Cell. The Seventeen and Eighteen of this world are different from the ones in your world."
"Maybe, but the point is moot, since now the enemy is Cell," Trunks didn't want to argue whether the Cyborgs were different, they were dead so it didn't really matter.
"Bulma said 'Trunks is the future version of this baby'. That cannot be correct."
"What do you mean?" Trunks didn't like how strenuous talking with the Artificial Intelligence of this Android was.
"You are too old to be Vegeta and Bulma's child, but my radar tells me with 99.8% certainty that you are. It is the same for the baby named Trunks. The statement 'from the future' I accept as factual. It is the statement 'the baby named Trunks and you are the same person' that is not correct." He explained while feeding the animals one by one.
"Trunks was born in June, but I was born in November. The intrusion of two Time Machines in this world changed a few things. How is your radar picking up that we are siblings and not clones?" That was oddly fascinating, and scary.
"The baby is male, you are female. You are wearing a compression-type of cloth." Sixteen stayed matter-of-factly and pointed at his eye to indicate he saw it, then went back to the ferrets and other rodents.
Trunks paled. "Did you tell anyone?"
"Affirmative. Seventeen and Eighteen knew."
Alright, the now dead Cyborgs knew. She could deal with that. While she contemplated destroying the Android there and then to avoid anyone else, against her best judgment she decided to spare him. She took a moment to accept that the Android knew, and considering how Bulma said nothing and had still used male language about her that morning, she figured the Android just didn't tell her, or the subject didn't come out.
"Anyone else?"
"Negative."
"Nobody can know. You cannot tell anyone else." She firmly ordered.
"Understood."
"And if you mention me in any way, do it with male language."
"Understood."
"Encrypt and bury the hell of any data you have about me. No one, not even the Briefs can access it."
"Understood." The Android acknowledged with a slight delay. "It is done."
"And I will go through that and erase that information, and everything else about me from your memory before I leave." She didn't know how, but the idea of that detail remaining in this world after her departure didn't sit well with it.
"I can erase the folder the moment you disappear from this world."
"Good." Trunks let out in a breath, slowly calming down. The Android was a strange find, but he seemed happy to comply with her wishes. She was still unsure and would absolutely check the data manually.
"Cell is also from the future." Sixteen added. The monster, Seventeen and Piccolo had a conversation about it before Seventeen was absorbed, and Sixteen caught most of it.
"Yes, he killed another version of me to steal my Time Machine and come to this era," her fingers gripped at her sleeves, the thought of her dead self still being a bother.
"Seventeen fought to not be absorbed, he wanted to see you. After killing Son Goku." Programmed priorities.
"I figure I am one of the next logical targets after Son-san."
"Negative. He wanted to apologize."
Trunks stopped feeding the birds to look back at Sixteen with disbelief on her face. That made even less sense than what Cell said, and Cell was absolutely messing with her head. "Wha-?"
"Seventeen entrusted me with a private message." Sixteen paused a moment, then his voice changed as he played a recording of Seventeen's voice. Playful and confident as ever, dismissive of danger.
"Yo Sixteen? If this ends badly, tell Trunks I wanted to gift her flowers and take her out on a date. We sorta hit it off on the wrong foot." A little snicker. "That's funny because our romance started with my foot through her sternum. I'm such a funny guy, amirite?"
"End of message," Sixteen stated.
Trunks' body language went from reserved to absolutely confused. 'How do I even? Why? The fuck?!' her hands, eyebrows and mouth agape conveyed before she could actually phrase something as a response, as a reaction.
"Please delete that," she begged for a good old meteor and concussion to forget it herself. That partially sounded like the Seventeen she knew, but the message itself was something else entirely and just didn't make sense. Were the Cyborgs from this world that different?
"It has been deleted."
It didn't matter in the end, the enemy was Cell and he had absorbed the Cyborgs. Thinking about it was a waste of time, and given the opportunity, she would have destroyed them.
"Trunks. You aged and got extremely more powerful in just a week. Vegeta also got extremely more powerful."
"Yes. But Cell is still far stronger. I am taking you back to the lab," she stated and started walking back.
"Negative. My radar indicates you are as strong as Cell."
"Your radar is wrong. I was on par with Vegeta-san and Cell toyed with him. With us both. " The memory didn't sit well, but it had to be stated.
"Negative. Your strength surpasses Vegeta's. You did not use it."
Trunks stopped arguing, she shrugged off, not really believing Sixteen's observation even if she knew she had power she hadn't been able to tap into. She got a little closer once the Android was back on his operating table. Tama jumped off her shoulder to lay on Sixteen's chest.
"The Cyborgs were my enemies, but for what it's worth, Sixteen, we'll avenge them by destroying Cell." There was nothing wrong with a little kindness. Perhaps they really were different, after all.
"Data incomplete," Sixteen answered and gently patted the cat.
Bulma wasn't back yet, and Trunks didn't want to mess with the code, but she saw how the Android had been plugged to the computer, so she connected the two. She thought about the Cyborgs for a moment, and how and why they came to be, looking at the programs running on the different screens.
"Sixteen. You have data on most encounters Son Goku-san had since he destroyed the Red Ribbon army, right?"
"Affirmative. Accessing the data."
The interface opened different named folders with all sorts of names, and Trunks looked back to the Android, then went to the computer to look closely. Her Brief brain saw a glimpse of an opportunity.
"Can you show me the data you have about me?"
The hidden folder opened for Trunks, but the contents didn't open. "Permission to use the decryption key?"
Trunks seemed satisfied with the burial of her personal information, and shook her head. "No, you can close it. Is it a problem if I manually look at these from here? With your functioning?"
"Negative. Library access does not interfere with my functions."
With permission, Trunks browsed the files. Every fighter the spy robots had recorded. Videos. Analysis. Descriptives and encoding of their attacks and techniques. Their stances and flaws, too. The raw data was meticulously tagged, annotated, and classified. She tried finding the one about herself, but couldn't. The file was indeed buried. She turned back to the Android.
"Sixteen, hypothetically, if you were to face Piccolo-san, how would you proceed?"
"Which Piccolo?"
'Ah right, the data he has on Piccolo predates his fusion with Kami,' Trunks wondered how to explain, then she glanced at the screen; three Piccolos appeared as Sixteen was accessing the data. Trunks remembered something about Goku fighting one version of Piccolo as a child, and another, younger version just before marrying Chichi. It seemed they were different people, at least according to the data shown, but it was the third one, the one marked 'Piccolo?' that had far less data. She checked the date of the picture, and sure enough it was from the day prior.
"This Piccolo," she indicated.
"He was as strong as Seventeen, but not as strong as Cell or me."
"What if you were equals?"
"Degree of certitude will be below acceptable parameters. Data is incomplete."
"Please extrapolate from what you know about the previous Piccolo. It does not need to be accurate, just plausible. I am more interested in how you work through the problem than the actual result."
Sixteen began accessing both sets of data, extrapolating from the fight he observed between Seventeen and Piccolo, including some descriptions of a new technique that he tried on the Cyborg, and explained in great detail the different combat techniques the Android would use to defeat someone with his regenerative abilities. Trunks saw the data move on the screen as she listened, including all of the margin of error degrees and 'assuming this Piccolo is the same, just stronger'.
Bulma had come in by the time Sixteen was in the middle of explaining, and Trunks beckoned her over to look and listen. When Sixteen was done, the Briefs were speechless.
"Dr Gero was a genius," Bulma let out in a whisper. "An evil one, but a genius nonetheless."
"This is exactly what I need," Trunks realized in another whisper as she quickly went through her capsule case to find her (well, her mother's) computer. She decided to trust science and pushed aside some materials to be able to set up some sort of work station.
"Why are you helping us?" Bulma had to ask.
"I was built to kill Son Goku because he is a threat to the planet. Cell is currently a larger threat and is partly made with Son Goku's cells. Putting myself in the ownership of Capsule Corp genius Dr Brief and his daughter follows my main objective."
"Protecting the planet from threats," Bulma sighed. If Gero hadn't been such a monster...
"Affirmative."
"Sixteen, you said I was as strong as Cell, didn't you?" Trunks wanted to verify something.
"Affirmative."
"And you mean after he had absorbed Eighteen."
"Affirmative."
"But I lost. Why?" She had an idea, but if Sixteen confirmed...
"Technique superiority, better use of life energy, and full use of its potential." Bingo.
"Cell was created by a super computer which studied and refined this data for twenty years, and inserted it in a genetically 'superior' being," Trunks explained outloud for herself.
"Hypothesis seems correct."
"You got an idea on how to beat him." Bulma affirmed, seeing her would-be son scramble through electronics and connect the two computers together. She could recognize a Brief with a lightbulb on anywhere, and that, right there, was one of them.
"Yes and no. I am smart, but not 'artificial intelligence using a supercomputer for twenty years to create the perfect fighter' smart," she went back through the files and checked Sixteen's files. Despite the absurd amount of data, the Android's memory and actual executive functions and programs were remarkably light-weight. She copied the whole thing over to her computer.
"What's your plan?"
"Study. Vegeta-san didn't teach me in the Room of Spirit and Time, so my weak point remains my lack of formal training. I am going to use Gero's data against his creation. Or at least try to." Trunks was hopeful and ready to give it a shot, albeit with different tools.
"There you go, putting your Brief brain to good use," Bulma praised, happy to see her would-be son was confident and out of the despair she'd witnessed a couple of hours prior. Trunks gave her a knowing smile, appreciating the praise and knowing her mother would say those exact same words. They weren't that different, even if this version wasn't her.
"I see you copy everything."
"With the generator, I might be able to run Sixteen's Artificial Intelligence, for vocal commands. But the database is what I'm after. I need to talk to Piccolo-san and inform Son-san and Gohan-san of the situation," she said checking her watch. Almost nine. She closed and capsulated her computer as soon as everything was done copying. "Sixteen, your help was precious. I'm sorry I was apprehensive about you."
"Apology accepted."
The genius put a hand on the teenager's shoulder, then lifted herself up a little to kiss her future son's cheek, gently. She then ruffled the long hair, and commented about cutting it, but Trunks refused and left the same way she came in; through the window.
Trunks was thankful Vegeta was goal-oriented and had isolated himself in the Gravity Room. She bitterly resented that he had not even noticed his son was missing, and he could have gone after her to retrieve him, but the truth that he never cared about his family had properly established itself in her mind. She had accepted Vegeta was an alien and human mortals didn't apply, even if it hurt. Even if that meant he betrayed her. She was presumptuous to believe she had understood him in the Room of Spirit and Time, and she vowed to not let her guard down again. If he wanted her to be his heir, he'd have to make the effort and properly make amends.
Perhaps she hadn't been an accident, perhaps he had chosen to mate with Bulma as he'd explained, but it didn't matter. What mattered was killing Cell, then going home, destroying the Cyborgs, destroying that sublab, and finally having a proper breakdown about the unresolved feelings before enjoying peace, at last. And to reach her goal, now she had science and hope.
When she arrived on the Lookout, Piccolo and Tenshinhan were looking at the news on an old TV with a parable. Mostly replays of the prior night. She landed near them and they acknowledged her presence with a glance.
"The City has been trying to identify the Mysterious Golden Defender and thank him. Without his intervention, the casualties would have been much higher."
Trunks groaned hearing the TV talk about her while Piccolo had a pointed look.
"I still can't believe you pulled that off in your state." Tenshinhan commented, and Piccolo agreed. Trunks just humphed in embarrassment, hands in pockets.
"I was reckless. And quite lucky Cell didn't come after me," she grumbled low. She knew she'd been hot-blooded, she fully intended to go after the bio-android in the broadcast tower until the ki blast brought her back to reality. 'Stupid Saiyan genes.'
"They won't be out for at least three more hours, why are you here?" Piccolo asked.
Trunks couldn't help smiling at the question. Piccolo was observant and went to the point. 'No wonder Gohan-san admired him. No wonder Gohan-san admires him.'
"Vegeta-san wants us to go back in, but I don't think sparring each other half to death is what I need, and he isn't exactly..." She tried to find a proper adjective, but fell short in her choices.
"Agreeable." Tenshinhan observed, and the Namekian agreed. Trunks had many other words in mind, but that one was acceptable. She confirmed.
"I learnt a lot in spite of him, and considering what happened yesterday… Well, I refused the Senzu bean else I would have killed him."
"We know," Piccolo stated without an ounce of judgment. He had liked nothing that happened, but at least commended Trunks' unwillingness to indulge in a justified bloodshed.
"Despite our.. relation, we are just too far apart, here," she added with a certain restrain and indicated her own head to indicate where they were truly different. Clearly the two of them didn't approach problems (and enemies) the same way, their thought patterns were too different. Trunks had tried thinking like Vegeta, but it felt all sorts of wrong, and the results clearly showed it was the wrong path.
"I came seeking guidance to make more efficient use of the time we have," she added, properly looking at one then the other. "I've reached a ceiling I can't break through on my own. Where I lack, you both excel at."
Tenshinhan's presence was just the cherry on top. Surely she leaned more towards Piccolo, out of her knowledge of him through Gohan, but Tenshinhan had formal training and experiences, and the more help she got for her idea, the better.
"You can't fight," Piccolo observed, Tenshinhan agreed. They'd both made that observation back when Trunks first sparred against Piccolo.
The blood spoke first. She frowned, offended, her ki even rising at the perceived insult, and gave a challenging look. Tenshinhan put a hand over his face, clearly Piccolo had been a little too blunt.
"He means you don't know how to fight. You're strong, but you're not a good martial artist."
Trunks calmed down immediately, and agreed. "I am not a good martial artist because I am not one. I had no real formal training. I learnt by trial and error, and sparse friendly spars. I did fight a lot, for survival."
"You lack knowledge." Piccolo concluded.
"Basically yes. Simply observing Vegeta-san taught me some things, but I need to actively study these things," she added with a wider and brighter smile. "Wouldn't you know it, someone actually made a database I can work with."
Both men looked interested in the wording and looked at the teenager with insistence, prompting Trunks to tell more.
"Gero's servers. I took everything."
"The spy robots." Piccolo realized, and Trunks nodded with a little enthusiasm.
"This is where I am stuck and why I am seeking advice. I can study on my own, but I can't really practice nor judge my own progress efficiently."
Tenshinhan and Piccolo looked at each other. Trunks had been a good student when it came to learning the Mafuba, and while the attempt at the technique had resulted in failure, there was no doubt the teenager would go for the kill if that meant preserving the planet. Trunks had done so already, after all, with Freeza and King Cold.
Before they could give their opinion, however, two very different kis suddenly caught their attention. Goku and Gohan had left the Room of Spirit and Time a solid two and a half hours before their twenty-four hours were over.