"You lied to me."
His frosty eyes pierced her like sharp daggers as the words struck the center of her chest. To her, there was no mystery behind why he was at her door that night, standing in the rain out on her front step, why he'd risked traveling all the way across the continent in the biggest storm of the year, or why he was wearing an expression full of more anger than she'd thought his face could ever hold. The worst part was, she knew that no matter how much he'd hurt her back when they were together, no matter how badly he'd swept her legs out from under her, taking this long to come clean with the truth was bordering on cruelty to both him and their son. She deserved every word that was about to come from his mouth, even if he'd earned some of her ire as well.
Her shoulders sank and she stepped aside, opening the door wider to signal he could come in out of the violent downpour. He followed her cue and stepped through the door, staring her down as he maintained his civility and took off his shoes at her entryway and stripped free of his dripping coat. His ki had kept him relatively dry for the flight there, but the moment he landed and powered down, the sheets of torrential rain had quickly soaked him to the core. He crossed his arms, clenching his jaw as he shivered involuntarily.
She'd only seemed surprised to see him for a moment until a melancholic understanding took its place on her features, and she remained silent without greeting or question as she disappeared down her hallway. He was nearly about to call out to ask her where the hell she'd gone when she remerged with an armful of towels. She wasn't running after all; then again, she probably knew this day would come eventually. The look in her eyes proved she had a pretty good idea of what was coming.
He took the offering without hesitation, deciding it was better to delay the conversation by a moment or two than to freeze. While he was drying off to the best of his ability, she went back into the kitchen, turning the burner under her tea kettle back on and reheating the water. As soon as he decided he'd done enough about the water falling from his clothes, he wrapped the driest towel around his shoulders and followed her in.
"Pan…" he started, his voice sounding broken, even in the single syllable. Neither of them was certain if that was from the harsh, cold air he encountered on the trip there, or from raw rage spilling from deep within his chest.
"Sit down," she said firmly.
He wasn't sure why, but he obeyed, giving her a little more time to prepare as he sat as patiently as possible at her kitchen table. He always had a weakness for strong women, but resolved to make sure this was the only latitude he would grant her until he had answers.
Loud thunder sounded again, filling the silence between them prior to the kettle signaling its readiness with a shrill whistle a moment later. She poured a cup for him and refreshed her own, sitting across from him and wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that he was still quite wet, or if it was his demeanor and stare, but he'd brought more of the chill with him into her house that night than the storm had.
"How did you find out?" she asked, wishing the muscles on his face would relax just a little. She always liked to believe she was immune to intimidation, but she was very uncomfortable being the target of those narrowed eyes. Yelling, she could take, but those eyes…
He shook his head emphatically. "No," he started. "You don't get to ask questions yet."
She looked away, biting her lip nervously. "Okay," she conceded hesitantly. With a deep breath, she began searching her memories for the various scripts she'd laid out for herself during the years she had to imagine this conversation taking place and plan for it. She suddenly found that none of the words she'd rehearsed were coming to mind. The arguments she'd thought of, the clever points to help her case – they were just gone. When met face-to-face with her current harsh reality, her preparation meant nothing. She would have to start from scratch.
She nodded a silent validation of his accusation, then began the long process of trying to carefully explain. "Yes, I lied to you. He is yours – and I knew that from the beginning."
He laughed contemptuously, closing his eyes as though the straightforward confirmation was hard to hear despite him already knowing the truth of it before he arrived there. Her admission came quickly and easier than he imagined it would, which only fueled his utter mystification as to her possible motivation for living as she had with this secret.
"Pan – why?! Why for so long?! It's been…." he could barely stumble over the words as they came out in a near roar from his throat. His blood was boiling; she could feel waves of rage and pain coursing through his energy from across the table. "…ten years! Ten fucking years!"
"Which excuse would you like to hear?" she asked in a flat, quiet voice, resisting the urge to yell back as her natural defensiveness kicked in. This isn't a two-way argument, she reminded herself. He has a right to his anger.
He cocked his head to the side in confusion, his scowl deepening, if that were possible. "What is that supposed to mean?" he said. His volume had decreased, but his shallow, hard breathing and the rigidity of his face indicated this was not the result of calming down.
She took another deep breath before continuing, fighting for the tenacity to meet his eyes, so he might have a sign that she was being honest now, at the very least. "I know you think I could've told you at any point in time, but whether you believe me or not, there always seemed to be something in the way. I have a whole list of excuses," she admitted, "but while they are ultimately just excuses - some of them are better than others."
"I don't want…!" he began in another shout, but closed his mouth again, swallowing hard as though he was trying to reset before he continued. "Just - start at the beginning, please. How about when you found out, which is ideally the moment I would've liked to have been clued in too," he requested.
"Alright," she agreed, trying to steady her voice. He was asking for her to recount a moment when her feelings towards him were at their nadir, the day she first felt the feint sign of life inside of her. These were embarrassing memories; she'd grown a lot since that time and wasn't proud of how she'd reacted to certain news that night. However, she also couldn't deny that her heart still ached when remembering the circumstances of why she'd desperately needed to train herself to exhaustion. As much as she resented herself for holding on to it for so long – it still hurt.
"I went out to train by myself, exerted too much energy, blacked out - and it wasn't until I woke up in the middle of a field the next morning that I realized the reason I'd lost consciousness was because most of my energy was now being guzzled by an exceptionally ki-thirsty baby," she said. "He was a complete surprise. I'd felt tired before, but that was the first time I felt like something was - off."
"So why not then? Why didn't you come to me?" he asked desperately, focusing on her so intensely, she wasn't sure he'd actually blinked in a while.
"I had - four months - to figure out how to be a mother. Those weeks were a confusing blur – and finding time to deliver this news in the midst of your wedding planning wasn't exactly my biggest concern."
She stopped herself momentarily and leaned back in her chair, taking a second to think before continuing. She hadn't meant to issue any snark in her response. Those were her genuine feelings and thoughts at that time, but this conversation wasn't the place to air them.
"Motherhood was an abstract, potential plan for some moment in my distant future. I wasn't ready for it. And, at that point in time, I'd been hoping never to see you again, if I could avoid it. Bo – changed everything – instantly. The very idea of him was scary enough, but the thought of looping you back into my life was terrifying."
He hoped she would see it as a courtesy that he hadn't interrupted her long explanation, but in honesty, he simply didn't know how to reply until his brain managed to process what she'd told him. "How did this even happen? Didn't you tell me you were on the Capsule shot?" he asked, clearly remembering having asked that question during a sober moment on the gravity room floor. "And why didn't you have more time?" The last question seemed random, but she'd emphasized that the short time span was part of the reason she hadn't told him before Bo was born. From his experience, Saiyan pregnancy clues were difficult to miss, even early on. Even though it was unexpected, he couldn't fathom how she'd missed the signs for so long.
Pan couldn't keep a slight sardonic smile from forming on her lips. She was trying very hard to take the responsibility she needed to during the tough discussion, but for this one, small portion, she felt the Briefs could stand to share a little blame.
"I was on the shot. In fact, I had a long time to go until I needed a booster. We were all assured it wouldn't fail again after my mom had Goku," she explained, "so why would I ever suspect it had? It wasn't until my energy started tanking without explanation half-way through my term that I realized something was wrong and I felt…"
"…a spark," he finished.
She was frustrated with herself beyond words at how that one statement had so easily extinguished some of her own frustration towards him, but she couldn't deny the fact that he remembered that short and random story from so many weeks ago was a little endearing. He'd asked a question about Bo, listened to her answer, and remembered it – long before he knew the truth. He'd been genuinely interested in knowing a little about his son before he even knew why.
"Yes," she confirmed in a softer tone.
He sighed deeply. His face still hadn't relaxed, but he seemed to take her response regarding that moment in time at face value. "If you were that pressed for time and confused, then to a point, I understand why you might not have been ready to share the news immediately. But – why didn't you tell me when I asked you?" he asked, emphasizing the last words heavily. "Pan - I came to you. I knew the timing added up too well and I gave you the perfect opportunity to be honest with me. But you looked me straight in the eye and told me he wasn't mine."
"You mean while you were on your honeymoon?"
He scoffed loudly and shook his head, "no, don't put that on me. Goten told me you were pregnant at my wedding reception, Pan. I came to you as soon as I could process what that meant and what I was supposed to do about it. Where I was before coming to the dojo that night was irrelevant to the fact that you fed me a fake story and…"
"It wasn't irrelevant, Trunks," she said insistently. "The fact that you think so… Have you ever considered how I would've felt that day?"
He looked down at his tea cup, watching the steam rise from the inside of it as he bit his tongue to prevent saying something wrong. His frown was still deeply set, but the fact that he suddenly wouldn't meet her eyeline betrayed the fact that he knew the gist of what she was going to say, and probably understood more than he was alluding to.
"You…" she abruptly stopped and swallowed, willing herself to remain as stoic as she could while she continued. The conversation wasn't supposed to go this way; she'd wanted it to remain focused on Bo, but she didn't have the strength to decline the opportunity she'd been given. She'd been holding this in for so long – and this excruciating memory was part of what had driven her to lie in the first place, so maybe - he should hear this part too.
"I honestly thought everything was perfect," she started carefully. "Do you remember? You came home late to find me failing at making dinner - and in the midst of that mess you told me you wanted our families to know we were together. You said you wanted it out in the open so we could 'move on to better things.' I'd never asked you for that, but you said the words anyway. And for a few short hours - I was actually dumb enough to think we were real."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He did remember – all too well, actually. They'd made bao; she'd covered his sheets in flour, and they ate the results of their joint effort afterwards in bed. He remained in silent agreement with her; that night had been perfect. That's part of why the following day had been so impossibly difficult.
"Something changed after that night," she continued, trying very hard to keep her energy quashed as the words continued to spill out. "When I woke up the next morning, something was – different." She leaned slightly over the table, forcing him to look up from his tea and back at her. "That was the moment you found out she'd come back, right? It wasn't until much later I'd figured out you must've gotten a call, message, email… something from her on your phone. Or maybe Bulma? Either way, one minute we were fine, and the next minute we weren't. I kept telling myself all weekend long that it was my imagination, but it wasn't."
He ran a hand through his hair, combing the wet strands back out of his eyes. Like her, he hadn't been expecting this turn of focus. He hadn't anticipated being the one feeling the weight of guilt on his chest.
"Pan…" he started, making an admittedly weak attempt to get her back on the topic he wanted to be on. He knew that was pointless as soon as he heard the roughness in his own voice and noted it'd lost its edge.
She began again before he could continue; now that she'd started down this path, she wanted to finish it. "The next time I saw you, you were giving me some – very bad speech about 'hurting other people', and 'risk', as though I wasn't worth a few awkward moments with our families. I don't even remember most of what you said, but I remember it contradicting almost everything you'd said before. On Friday night, you were ready to tell the world - and by Sunday afternoon, you were done with me, like it had all been – pointless. And it was only because I'd guessed correctly that I found out the real reason as to why. I never had a say in the matter, or any warning. I never even got to tell you how I felt. It was just – over."
"Are you finished now?" he asked. Although his words seemed malicious, his tone was not as abrupt. She could tell he was losing his patience, but she had a little more.
"No," she answered quickly. "When you asked me if Bo was yours, you were, what – two, maybe three days out from marrying the person who I wasn't supposed to be worried about? All I could think about was what you'd said on that final weekend, both in your apartment and on the butte. I was exhausted and my hormones were going crazy; I wasn't being rational, but as soon as I saw you again, I instantly relived everything from that day – and it felt real and as fresh as it did on the hill. My biggest concern, rational or not, was protecting Bo from feeling that same rejection. So no, lying wasn't the right thing to do. It was a shit thing to do. But at the time, I just wanted to be as far from you as I could be."
The moment those last words left her lips, she felt the relief of having that long-carried weight off of her shoulders – but it didn't last long. It took only the length of a breath for her to start feeling the pressure of regret pushing back down on her. She should've stayed on topic. Yes, she'd had a goal of remaining honest and transparent, but this was too honest. They'd both lived entire lifetimes in the time since that day. Her feelings behind her spur of the moment decision were ancient history and ultimately didn't matter. She was sure he felt the same.
"As soon as I'd lied, I knew it was wrong," she said quietly. It was almost a whisper, and had been even harder for him to hear over the raging storm outside. "I knew it would hurt you, and as much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I knew it would hurt Bo too. I wanted to fix it so many times, but the further we got from that moment, the more impossible it seemed. I wish I'd been brave enough to do it myself, but – whoever told you – I'm glad they did."
Trunks took a deep breath in preparation to speak; she expected his retort to end her side of the conversation completely for the night. She was prepared to feel the sting of whatever he had to say, and wouldn't completely blame him if he really made it hurt. He owed her nothing, after all. He'd only made an effort to reconnect with her due to Bo, and now any good that had come from that effort was likely erased. Now that Bo was old enough to travel by himself between cities and make some of his own decisions, there was no reason not to burn bridges.
Before Trunks could get a word out of his mouth, a thunderclap shook the house. The lights went out instantly, causing the entire room to fall into blackness.
"Goddammit," she cursed under her breath, lighting a small ball of ki so she could find the candles and matches she'd laid out earlier.
After some effort and several minutes in silence, a group of candles finally had healthy flames burning in the middle of her kitchen table, casting an orange glow around the room. When she finally sat back down and looked up at him, she found his expression had changed. There was still a frown set on his lips, but his eyes no longer held the intense anger he'd come in feeling. Instead, she could almost see sadness, maybe even remorse reflected in those depths. But that would be impossible, right? His life turned out exactly how he'd wanted it to until two years ago. For a spell, he'd had a picturesque marriage to his childhood sweetheart. What did he have to regret?
"What were you going to say?" she asked, impatient with the fact that the weather had seemingly stolen his thoughts from his mouth. She wanted him to get it over with.
"I…" he started, sighing suddenly while considering his next words. "I made some mistakes too."
She fought from letting the disbelief show evidently on her face. She wanted to ask for elaboration after he fell silent, but she chose to let the quiet between them rest, hoping he would offer his own. He grabbed the mug of tea in front of him, finally drinking from it while he wrestled with his own practiced script.
Trunks had also imagined this conversation many times in the past. Although he had no idea it would involve a discovery as huge as having another son, he'd often had the belief in his head that he needed to make amends with her the best he could - to explain his sloppiness on that day, and to apologize. Complete resolution and a return to friendship with Pan never seemed like a realistic goal, but he needed the Sons – especially now that his mother's health was in question, and he wanted to make that clear and find some common understanding. Of course, being co-parents just raised the stakes even higher. There was now an innocent party who could be deeply impacted by their inability to make their peace with each other.
"I don't know how things would've turned out if I'd done things correctly," he said. "Maybe everything would've been exactly the same. Maybe we still would've ended up here. But I do know that I made a very important decision too quickly, that I gave too much weight to - an outside influence, and that just about everything that came out of my mouth that afternoon on the butte was rushed – and probably wrong."
She crossed her arms, completely baffled as to how to take that. She wasn't expecting to hear an apology from him, and while it should've made her happy to hear the words, they somehow brought her more discomfort.
"I realized a long time ago how easy and fast I made that decision appear to you. It wasn't. I spent hours staring at the wall in my office trying to figure out what to do. When I finally got the courage to talk to you, I was tired and I just – I lost my nerve," he explained. "I don't – entirely remember what I said either. The fact that I can't – probably means I was talking out of my ass most of the time."
She stared at the table in front of her, considering his further explanation. Lightning continued to flash around her dark house, although the close crashes from before were now sounding a reasonable, non-threatening distance away. Water dripped from his hair onto the table and he mindlessly traced the drops with his fingers. He had more to say, and if he planned on continuing down this path, she was content with letting him figure it out.
"I don't blame you – for thinking I'd given up so easily; I would've felt the same way. But you're not 'pointless'. You never were. Considering everything we've been through, every moment we've had together since you were born - no matter what that looked like - you deserved more than what came out of my mouth," he said genuinely.
He took a deep breath, hoping she would take the next statement in the correct way, although it may not be what she wanted to hear. "I loved my wife and our life together - and we had a great kid to show from it. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But - I also can't say I haven't wondered a hundred times how things would've turned out if I would've gone with you instead of trying to work that weekend. In hindsight, I should've taken more time - should've taken a step back from the situation - should've been more thoughtful about expressing what you really meant to me. But I didn't and here we are," he explained.
She didn't immediately react. Silence was okay; he only had one more thing to add, and then he was finished with his piece, and able to fully lift that particular burden from his shoulders. "What I do regret - is that the bullshit I said on the top of that hill was apparently enough to completely destroy every ounce of trust you had in me - to the point where you didn't want me in my son's life until it happened by accident."
She looked up and met his stare, her eyes filled with remorse, easily identifiable, even by dim candlelight. Despite the fact that he'd just put some of the blame for the destruction of their relationship on his own shoulders, she somehow felt guiltier now than she ever had before.
"I'm sorry," she said simply, water shining in the corners of her eyes that she didn't try to hide. She didn't argue. He wasn't wrong. But she also knew that however much of the blame he put on himself, she deserved twice as much, at least when it came to Bo.
"Yeah," he said softly, taking a hard drink of his tea again. His expression seemed to fluctuate between the softer normality she was used to and the rougher edge it'd had earlier. His thoughts were even more restless.
The wind howled outside, and the candles seemed to flicker in reaction to the change in energy around them. Both parties were focused on the table in front of them as they mentally reviewed the words that had been said. There was a strange sense of calmness that confused them both. Trunks certainly had a big reason to be upset, and Pan's nature was rarely calm, even in her 30s. By all accounts, they should've been in competition with the storm for noise and chaos. The stark contrast of unexpected silence was almost unnerving.
She should have been relieved. She should've been nearly dancing in joy that the one issue that had haunted her for years was finally out in the open. For some reason, there was a large dissonance in what she really felt and what she thought she should feel, and she couldn't figure out why.
Because you're getting off easy, she acknowledged to herself.
She'd imagined this moment so many times, and in none of the versions she conjured, was Trunks still sitting at her table afterward, calmly sipping tea as they both slowly absorbed the information that had been shared. It wasn't in her wildest thoughts that Trunks would've used this opportunity to express his own regrets over the past, or that he would've issued a soft apology for how things had transpired on the butte. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, as though the shouting would start again at any moment. Surely, if anything, he still had questions.
"Why aren't you asking for the rest of it?" she asked. He looked up at her questioningly. "I – I told you why I'd hid it in the beginning, but we never talked about the rest of the time." She hoped reminding him wouldn't bite her in the ass, but his silence was disconcerting.
He cleared his throat, his expression revealing the fact that he hadn't forgotten. From her perspective, it seemed like he didn't want to know, but she couldn't imagine he was letting it go that quickly.
"The past…," he started, trailing off as he chose to change directions. "You said 'something always seemed to be in the way'. I don't think I need more than that. I can't get those years back, Pan – so I'm not sure it's worth going over line-by-line and reliving every moment."
Her stomach dropped slightly; she thought she'd gotten off easy, but that had been the most damning thing he'd said all night. He tapped his cup with his finger as his eyes remained fixed on the table in front of him. Although all signs of his anger were gone, his face still held a sullen quality and he fell silent again. He also didn't look like he wanted to leave. She wasn't sure what to do.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unsure of where to go from there. It wasn't difficult for him guess what events had gotten 'in the way', but she wasn't sure it should just be left to inference. He might not have needed clarity, but maybe she did.
"I came close," she started, breaking the long silence. "Several times, actually. I'd procrastinate just long enough that fate would conspire in one of our lives to give me another excuse. My parents kept pushing me despite it, but I always found some reason to avoid speaking with you. They'll be glad – to hear you know now."
He suddenly looked up with surprise in his eyes. "Gohan and Videl - knew?" he asked.
Pan nodded subtly. "My mom knew we'd been together, so it didn't take much for her to figure it out," she said. "My dad realized it the moment Bo was born. I'm not even sure how. I guess the resemblance was strong enough, or maybe his energy felt a little familiar…"
He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he'd avoided Gohan's wrath once that particular secret was out. I didn't – not totally, he realized, suddenly glad the other man's pacifistic nature had remained true and steady despite his desire to train again. Remembrances of several strange interactions with Gohan suddenly flashed in his mind. It was obvious there was more to those moments than he knew at the time. They weren't all based in anger, but looking back, they should've been a clue that something else was going on.
"It wasn't just the dragonballs," his mother had said the last time their families had been face-to-face. His eyes widened again. A long-buried memory of that particular day resurfaced as his thoughts followed the breadcrumbs of several mysterious moments in his recent life that now seemed to be directly related. His mother meeting Gohan's livid stare, regret in her own expression. "I've gotten on your bad side enough for one lifetime."
He'd always wondered what she meant by that considering how close the families were up until that day. At the time, however, he'd just gotten his wife back from the brink of death, and had been shocked to his core by the confrontation the two families had regarding the wish that had caused the miracle. He never pushed the issue and never looked into it any further; he just gleefully accepted the gift of more time and moved on from the tension, assuming he'd missed some vital contextual clue that would've explained it.
I did.
"Pan - does anyone else know?" he asked.
He already knew his mother had been in on the truth for some time, but he was secretly hoping the Sons weren't aware that she knew. If they were, that meant those moments of tension were likely built more around Bo than the wish or anything else. He was practically the last one to know the wedge pulling both families apart was partially of his own doing.
She bit her lip, knowing who he was asking about. Goten was obviously clueless, so he wasn't Trunks' concern. She debated on whether or not to tell him the whole story, but she wasn't up for any more secrecy that night, and since it was obvious that he didn't want to go anywhere until he had all of his answers, saving it for later was pointless.
"You can tell me," he said in encouragement, sensing her hesitation.
"A few months after Bo was born – my parents convinced me it was time," she said, "I'd worked up the courage for the most part. Figured out what to say. I was really close, but…"
"Something stopped you," he continued, already feeling a sense of dread regarding what she was about to say.
"Someone," she corrected. "Bo got a surprise visitor one day, and based on how that conversation went, I – decided maybe it should wait a little longer."
Trunks leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I can guess," he said in a low voice.
"Apparently, you'd just found out Trunks was on his way – and the pregnancy was already causing bad complications. Bulma asked me to keep everything quiet since it would just cause everyone more stress and potentially put both their lives at risk."
He scoffed. "She didn't…" he interrupted himself, rephrasing what he was about to say. "Even if that were completely true, I would've figured something out."
Pan's face sank further. He could tell there was something else. "She – suggested that when Trunks was born, his rougher start would get him all of the attention, that you'd end up pushing Bo aside, and that it would be better for all of you if I waited until both of them were older…"
He groaned audibly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His expression seemed more annoyed than angry, but in the gradually quieting, dark house, it wasn't difficult to pick up the flare from his energy. "Pan, that was a load of horseshit. You must've known that."
"The thought crossed my mind," she said. "But the fact that she'd gone out of her way to say it… Trunks, I was looking for an excuse. Bulma just justified my concerns enough to give me an out. After that, my parents didn't push me to tell you nearly as much, so – maybe I thought she did me a favor."
"So, she knew from the beginning too?" he asked, ignoring her inexplicable attempt to protect his mother to a small degree.
Pan nodded.
He didn't respond. Even when Bulma was misguided, her motivations were usually driven by what she thought was best for her family. He had no recollection of ever doubting the purity of her intentions in the past even when things went a bit sideways, but he wasn't inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt about this. At least he now had some understanding of Pan's reasoning behind her decision not to tell him about Bo, even if he still strongly disagreed with it. What she hadn't yet revealed about her motivations, he could mostly guess. His own mother – that was a complete mystery.
"I always thought it was the wish that caused the rift with Gohan," he said cautiously. "But they all knew and I…"
Pan watched his face twist as he absorbed that additional information, unable to provide a comforting reply. She'd realized a while ago that Bulma also had a lot to lose once the truth came to light, which might be why she'd never really heard from the woman much after Goten's wedding. She thought she should feel relieved that Trunks' attention was momentarily steered away from her, but again, there was only the discomfort of dissonance. She felt a little worse.
"Was she your 'outside influence'?" Pan asked. He looked up at her questioningly, not understanding the reference at first. "Earlier, you said you'd 'given too much weight to an outside influence.' I can't imagine who else that would be. I know Bra just enough to know she wouldn't care that you were seeing me, and you were surprised to find out my parents knew about us. Bulma obviously already knew when she came to the house that day, so – was it her?"
"Yeah," he answered softly.
"She talked you into ending it with me?" she deduced.
Trunks' eyes fell to the table again. "She – supported the idea."
Pan chuckled dryly. "I don't know what I did to make her dislike me so much," she said. "That's twice she tried to sweep me away."
"She doesn't," he responded, mostly confident that it was true. "If anything, you remind her of herself – strong-willed and stubborn. Like Chichi. She probably thought you'd be – distracting - if you and Bo were around."
Pan wasn't convinced he was telling the truth, but she took the comparison to her grandmother as a compliment and smiled subtly. Silence spread across the table again after that. The rain was still relentless, but the wind had died down to occasional gusts and the thunder had lost its startling edge. This conversation had been surprisingly short, and involved far less yelling than she imagined it would. It didn't seem like there was a lot more to say, but again, he didn't make a move to leave.
"So – what happens now?" she asked, brushing a short, raven strand behind her ear.
He sighed and drank some more of the tea that had grown tepid in front of him so he had a moment longer to think. "Tell the boys they're half-brothers. That would be the next reasonable step, right?" he asked.
She nodded. "Something makes me think that will be the easiest part of all this."
He actually smiled, although it was a subtle turn of his lips barely visible in the dark. "Probably," he agreed. He cleared his throat, resuming again with hesitation. "I – would like to spend more time with Bo. I know he's at Capsule a lot – but maybe he could stay full weekends, a couple of times a month? We can work out holidays."
She thought back to her original fear that he would choose to send all of his time at Capsule if allowed to set his own schedule. Now that Bo was a young man, she knew in her heart that wouldn't be the case, not permanently, anyway. Besides, he'd be getting to know his father and brother and that was important. She tried to tell herself that wasn't as much of a concern as it had been when he was a baby. She knew who she raised. He would be mad for a while, but he was gentle and forgiving, like the other men in their family. He wouldn't stay that way for long.
"He's old enough to make his own decisions," she said honestly, "as long as he gets enough of a break from Trunks to do his homework."
That subtle smile returned. He almost made a joke about her taking after her father, but the levity seemed like it would be premature. The burning anger that had sent him in a hot streak straight to her house that night had mostly melted away. He still felt frustration with her, which was coupled with a heavy sense of betrayal split between her and his mother, but it no longer presented itself as a heaviness on his chest. He knew he still had at least one more difficult conversation left, maybe several, if he was honest with himself, but he was already ready to move on.
Why does this feel easier than it should? he wondered. Because you're happy about Bo – and you're happy for Trunks – and you're looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time. The answer to his internal question had come easily.
Pan twisted her lips and scratched her arm as she uneasily started again. "Trunks is welcome here, too. I mean – if the boys want more time together. It doesn't always have to be at Capsule."
He'd appreciated the kindness she'd shown towards his son since the day they'd first met, and was glad to see it hadn't changed. But this wasn't about making Trunks Jr. feel welcome. She had to share time with Bo now, which meant an emptier house, and a loss of some control and knowledge regarding his schedule and his daily activities. That was probably going to be an adjustment.
He looked up and into her brown eyes as they reflected the candlelight in front of her. There was a hint of worry in her expression, and even though she deserved all the negative feelings he'd had towards her that night, he also didn't want her to think Bo was going to leave her behind. He already knew the boy better than that, and he wouldn't allow it, even if he tried.
"We uh – we could do some things together, too – all four of us," he volunteered, unsure of how the hell he was actually going to be able to go back to where they were after this reveal. He would try for Bo's sake, but he couldn't imagine it would be the same.
She perked up immediately the moment he'd said this, the change in her expression making him feel a warm confirmation that making his offer was the right thing to do. "You'd – want that?"
"Yeah," he said genuinely, again confused as to why it seemed to be such a simple a thing to agree to despite the now increased burdens of the past shared between them.
"The arcade was a good idea," she admitted.
He raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "Was it? I wasn't sure you thought so at first."
Pink rose to her cheeks before she could stop it. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you. I'd been trying since the day they met. The more time we spent together, the worse it felt. I just didn't know how to approach the subject," she said. "Ninja Warriors 3 didn't seem like the right time."
"Karate Masters IV," he corrected, chiding himself internally for feeling the need to correct her right at that moment.
She chortled softly in response, and something in him was thankful to see a momentarily pleasant expression on her face again. Maybe they could work through this after all – after some time passed.
"Look, I'm glad flying in through the storm of the year had some benefit, at least," he said. "But I'd like to know now if you have anything else you need to tell me."
She met his eyes and shook her head, searching her mind for any other information or detail she needed him to know. Despite the long and forgotten scripts she previously imagined, nothing came to her thoughts. It all seemed a little redundant now. "No," she said, "not unless you want an entire retelling of every moment in Bo's life."
It had been a soft joke, but his eyes met hers with a stoic expression, and she suddenly realized that she did owe him something akin to that.
"Oh," she said with a sigh. It wasn't like she was going to get to sleep any time soon, even with the storm having mostly passed, but she didn't think this request would come so quickly.
He's not wasting any time, she thought. I guess wasted enough for all of us.
"Maybe you could start with some pictures," he suggested. As soon as the words left his mouth, a ball of anxiety mysteriously formed in his stomach, the subconscious reaction baffling him for a moment until he tried to push it out of his mind.
Her lips curved upward in a pure smile, brighter than he'd expected considering the tensions of the night. The joy in her expression might've been a surprise, but it put his heart a bit at ease. She did love talking about her son – their son - and she seemed ready to finally share with him.
"Most of what I have from when he was a kid are just images of a vaguely humanoid blur, but I have a lot that turned out too."
"I want to see everything - even the blurry ones," he said. Her smile brightened, and against his will, he felt his own lips mirror hers.
While she was gone to retrieve the photos she'd promised, he thought about his earlier reaction and realized why the idea of simply looking at images of the past was making him nervous. He was about to see every moment he'd missed. Birthdays, accomplishments, school events, the stupid suits mothers make babies wear, even though they always swore they wouldn't - those moments and more were about to be displayed for him. Each one of them was a reminder that he wasn't there.
But at least Pan was willing, excited even, for him to be involved now. He wouldn't miss any more, if there was anything he could do to avoid it. While there was still grief over what he'd lost, there was also immense happiness over what he'd gained.
Pan came back with an armful of photobooks and a small laptop with a memory stick protruding from the side. She placed everything down in front of him, resulting in a small mountain of material for him to review.
"I'd start with the paper copies. They're more - curated. Maybe the power will be back on by the time you finish those so you can plug in the laptop."
He opened the top book and was greeted by the first images of Bo, so new to the world that he still had a tail. He hadn't taken many photos of Trunks Jr. with one since his mother didn't react well to seeing the furry limb. She'd been warned, but seeing the furry appendage in reality again was a much different scenario; apparently, it'd brought up some bad memories. With Bo, it felt different. Pan smiled fondly as she looked over his shoulder, confirming his suspicions. Even though she'd chosen to have it removed like they'd always been for every Saiyan child born after Gohan, it was a reminder for her of their heritage and blood, and more than likely, her grandfather as well.
"You miss the tail, don't you?" he asked, half making fun of her, but also somewhat genuine with his question.
Her nostalgic smile gave away the answer before she said anything. "I asked them to leave it on until his six-week appointment. I wish they didn't get in the way."
"Did you keep it?"
"No," she said with a grimace of mild disgust at the thought. "I - kept a trimming of the fur, though."
Trunks chuckled, and slowly flipped through the first pages. More pictures of him as a baby followed, Goten and Gohan each taking their turn holding him up, both showing their Son family trait of smiling like dorks whenever they were exceptionally excited. Eventually, a chunkier, slightly older Bo learned how to smile back with a similar expression.
Pan walked away, filling the kettle with more water. "There's more tea. I have coffee in the drawer too, if you get tired."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I figured I'd go to bed. Let you take your time…"
"The pictures have no labels."
"I know - I'm terrible about that," she said nonchalantly.
"Well - how am I supposed to know how old he was, or what was going on?" he asked.
He met her eyes with a look she couldn't describe, yet seemed to know the meaning behind. He wanted her to stay with him, go over the details, paint each picture clearly so he would know everything he could about each. He was silently asserting the fact that it was her obligation, something she couldn't exactly argue with.
She cleared her throat and pulled another chair over, sitting down directly next to him. She could still smell the rain on him, and feel the warmth of his skin. It brought back the memory of old feelings and disdain for how much she used to crave moments of closeness like this. There were hints that they might be able to a reach their previous balance again, but it didn't take away the knot that still formed in her stomach every tine he accidentally brushed her arm with his. This unpleasant dynamic was different from anything they'd ever had before, but as he eagerly dove into the study of his son's life, she knew it was just something she'd have to get used to.
Picture by picture, she narrated the life of their young son, putting aside her discomfort she felt for the sake of his thorough introduction to all things Bo. She did her best to remember the timeline, and pulled instances of Goten's life from her memory that Trunks would be familiar with so he could connect it to his own life's context.
Trunks made her go slowly. As much as she loved the subject matter, she was trying not to stay up all night on it. Time went by quickly despite her intentions, and before she knew it, she couldn't get through more than a picture or two without yawning. The paper pictures ended and he turned on the laptop just as the power flickered back on. They moved to the couch in her living room, but it turned out to be a mistake. She started falling asleep between images, and he finally had mercy on her and told her to go to bed. He stayed up by himself until he heard birds singing outside, when finally, he leaned back for a nap.
He opened his eyes just as a violently aggressive sunbeam managed to leak in through the window. It took him a moment to reorient himself as he squinted and looked around the unfamiliar room in which he'd been sleeping. The sensation of nervous excitement began immediately filling his mind, reminding him of the previous night and finding out his family had grown. For a split second, he had almost convinced himself it was a wonderful dream.
It was a familiar feeling - waking up the morning after a big change and not being sure it was real until your mind grasped the waking reality of the day. Last time he'd experienced the sensation, it was coupled with a terrible emptiness he'd ineffectively prayed was caused by nothing more than a nightmare. This time, that reality was a completely new future ahead of him.
He groaned loudly as he sat up, lamenting the position he fell asleep in and how old he suddenly felt just trying to loosen the crick in his neck. Pan was already awake; he could hear her moving around and could smell freshly brewed coffee in the air. He recognized her house now, although it looked much different in the light of the day. Small, a little cluttered, and messy in her own way, the house screamed her name so loudly, he should've identified it immediately.
"Did either of the boys try to call you this morning?" she asked, noticing he was awake. She was still in her bed clothes and a robe, and was leaning against a nearby wall. Her posture was casual, but the look on her face held a subtle concern.
He rubbed his face and squinted in the brightness of the morning, looking around for his phone. "No," he said after locating it and checking his screen. "Everything okay?"
She twisted her lips, twirling the belt of her robe around in her fingers. "Probably," she said uncertainly. "I've tried calling and texting Bo a few times. I think he's ignoring me."
"Maybe his phone's just dead," Trunks suggested, rubbing the spot on his neck that had tussled with the arm of the couch all night while he slept.
"Do you think the Capsule dome lost power?"
"Not unless every single one of its four redundant industrial generators went out," he answered. "But if he didn't plug his phone in…"
She shook her head. "That's not like him," she argued.
"I'm sure everything's fine," he answered. "If those walls could withstand my father for nearly half a century, there's nothing a storm could throw at it that would make it dangerous."
She nodded. Logically, Trunks was right, but she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. She might not have had Bo's power, but she could almost sense that there was something amiss about the morning. Maybe her apprehension was simply the after-effect of the life-changing and emotional conversation she'd had the night before, but the clarity of the new day hadn't helped it.
"Did you say anything to him?" she asked cautiously. "About why you were coming here last night?"
"I wouldn't have done that without talking to you first," he said adamantly. "I wasn't even completely sold on the idea that it wasn't some sort of big mistake until you answered the door."
She crossed her arms, setting her jaw as she thought about her next question. "I know this'll sound a little paranoid," she started, "but did you think it?"
Trunks chuckled lightly at the absurdity of her question, but his humor quickly died when he realized she might actually be onto something. Their long review of Bo's life had confirmed some earlier suspicions he'd held about the boy's extra inherited ability.
"I don't know – maybe? Probably? How sensitive is his power?"
Pan sighed and rubbed her forehead as though she had a headache. "I haven't explained to him why I've never told him about his father. I just kept telling him I'd talk to him about it when he was older. He probably had all sorts of scenarios or ideas in his head. Finding out it was you…" she trailed off. He was much too tired to think too hard on this situation, but he could see the concern on her features double as she processed through the thought. "I've been taking him for granted. He was old enough to know a while ago. I should've just told him."
Trunks wasn't going to assuage her fears, mostly because he agreed with her self-criticism. The boy probably imagined a number terrible stories surrounding his origin. If Bo had read his thoughts and figured it out – learning it was all rather bland was probably an upset in itself. He didn't know the context, or understand what had transpired in the past to motivate his mother to hide the truth. He was likely only aware that he'd been kept away from a brother who'd turned out to be his best friend and a father he could've known since birth – for no real reason at all.
"He might be asleep," he offered sympathetically. "Two nearly-teenage boys alone in a big house for the first time – they might've stayed up all night. Wouldn't be the first time."
She nodded as though she wanted to accept that idea. "You're probably right," she said.
The look on her face didn't match her verbal concession. Trunks sighed. "We should both go check on them," he said. "Bra's always said she can read my mind like an open book if she wants to. If he could hear me that easily too and figured it all out… I'm not going to want to say anything without your approval, but – it'll go better if we handle it quickly."
Her thin eyebrows wrinkled at that statement. "You can talk to your son, Trunks. I know it's my fault. Whether it comes from me or you, it doesn't matter."
He sighed again, running a hand through his messy hair as though he was considering the offer. "Come on. Get dressed. I'll wait."
She looked as though she wanted to argue, but didn't. Instead, she found herself obeying his suggestion so they could go confront this problem together. It was a very good and healthy thing to do, but the strangeness between them and the nervousness she felt about Bo prevented her from feeling the truth of that. She wished Trunks would go off on his own, and let her follow later.
. . .
They didn't speed too quickly towards the west, which was a relief for Pan. It gave her just a moment longer to think about what she was going to say to her son. She was dreading this inevitable discussion, but she was also a little excited for him to find out that his new friend shared half of his blood, and that the man he'd so quickly grown to respect and relate with was his father. There was an immensely difficult hurdle to clear first, but the revelation would make his life better, and probably easier in some ways.
From their height, the details on the ground went by more slowly than they normally would've. The sun shone brightly overhead. Puddles of saturated ground reflected light back up at them, temporary ponds formed by the amount of torrential rain that had fallen from the sky. They could see groups of trees knocked over in the same direction and in patterns, most likely from violent downdrafts or small twisters that had torn through the middle of the continent, where the storm had been the worst. There were even occasional swaths of soil that had been disturbed and followed curvy routes through the tall grass. From the view at their altitude, it looked like someone had doodled across the ground.
He flew straight through this last night, she thought. That's how angry he was.
He was flying just ahead of her, giving her plenty of space between them. She dared a glance in his direction, her heart skipping a beat as he seemed to feel it, and looked back. A blush formed on her cheeks, but he didn't misread its cause. Her arms were crossed tightly in front of her and her shoulders were tense. Despite the time they'd spent shoulder-to-shoulder last night, she was still uncomfortable. It didn't take a lot to imagine why.
"You never told me how," Pan said loudly over the wind, hoping to make the trip a little less awkward with conversation.
"How what?"
"How you found out," she said.
He nodded. There was no reason to keep that quiet any longer. "My mom - wrote him into her will. Referred to him as her 'grandson'. Bra saw it first - and thought I should know."
Pan raised an eyebrow in confusion over the story. Maybe she should've just been grateful that Bulma had thought of Bo, but it just made everything Bulma had done even more perplexing. The older woman had always acted like she enjoyed seeing Bo when he was a baby, but never sought him out after Goten's wedding.
"So - you knew that Bulma knew? Last night when you asked – it didn't seem like you did."
"I knew that she knows now," he said, a light, dry chuckle escaping his lips at the tongue twister that had proven to be. "I wasn't sure if she'd known from the beginning until you told me - and I wasn't sure if you knew if she was in on the secret or not."
"Did she say anything else in her will - about him?" she asked. He was obviously a bit confused by the question, so she elaborated. "I just don't understand. She seemed happy to meet him, but then never visited again. She barely spoke to me, even when she did visit. I know you think she doesn't hate me, but except for this thing with her will - it'd be easy to assume she just didn't care to acknowledge him officially…"
He looked at the ground, debating on how much to say on the issue. He wanted a full explanation even more than Pan did, but he already had a pretty good idea of the truth. "I think – my mom was just scared. You – the Sons – mean a lot to her, but this obviously part of the reason her and Gohan don't really talk. Maybe she thought visiting more would make it worse; maybe she was just too stubborn to admit her part in everything. I don't know. It's still a mystery to me, too."
Trunks didn't seem completely convinced by his own response, but why would he? Bulma's side of things wasn't the most urgent issue anyway, so while she considered his answer, she didn't press for anything more. It could be saved for another day.
The Capsule dome came into view shortly afterwards, looking as intact as it always had. Then again, the signs of the storm had decreased as they'd gotten closer to the city; it was obvious the impact to that area had been relatively minimal compared to how it looked in her neck of the woods.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, her phone buzzed loudly and several times in immediate succession. Apparently, her phone had been down while in transit, probably because of damaged cell towers, which were sparse through the countryside anyway. Coming into the city had allowed it to reestablish a signal, pushing a group of texts through at the same time. She paused in the air before they landed to check it quickly. Trunks glanced back to see an exasperated look suddenly cross her face as she looked down at the device.
"Is – that Bo?" he asked.
"No, a bunch of stuff just came through from Aràn and my mom. The Satan City dojo and the South City location both took damage. Looks like some roof issues and a few busted windows."
"Do you need to go take care of that?" he asked.
"No," she answered adamantly. "I can only deal with one problem at a time today."
Trunks nodded, grateful she wasn't going to make him face this alone. He hovered in the air a moment longer as she put her phone back in her pocket. It was obvious he had something to say before they landed. "Pan - you know Bo's nearly a teenager," he started.
She looked at him quizzically. "Technically, not for a year and a half," she said, "we don't have to rush it."
"At that age - things can be a bit – volatile," he said, "and whatever hormones make us that way are about three times worse with Saiyans."
"Why would you say that?" she asked.
"If it goes poorly at first," he started, "just give him a moment. When it happens with Trunks, a little bit of space can go a long way."
Her facial features relaxed only slightly at his efforts to provide preemptive comfort. Bo wouldn't get argumentative or angry, at least to her face, but he would pull away, and run elsewhere to express whatever feelings he was going through. That was how he normally handled bad news. It served her right that fate should pull a fast one on her. She'd prepared herself for how to handle temper tantrums and angry explosions, but he never really had them, at least while in front of her. His tendency to hide – that was something she never really figured out how to parent around.
She nodded and made no effort to correct him. He would learn about that part of his son in a moment, and would realize the boys had just as many differences as they had similarities. Despite the universe passing along the perma-scowl and the telepathy to Bo, the Vegeta temper had missed him entirely.
They landed in front of the yellow dome, touching down softly on the grass outside of the front door. The building itself was extremely quiet. Neither of them was sure if that was a good sign or not. Pan closed her eyes and reached out with her senses. She could feel Trunks Jr. nearby in a neutral state. Bo's ki was thoroughly suppressed. She wished she hadn't been such a good teacher when it came to that particular skill.
Bo? she thought, sending the message as loud as she knew how, given that she wasn't sure exactly how psychic messages worked. He didn't respond.
When they walked through the door, the only kid they saw was Trunks. He was sitting on the living room couch cross-legged; a popcorn bucket full of colorful cereal and milk was in his lap and he was eating it as fast as he could with a soup ladle while he watched something violent and noisy on TV.
"Trunks," his father started scoldingly. "Couldn't you have picked something with a little less sugar? There's got to be three boxes of cereal in there."
"You told me not to use the stove and there's nothing to microwave," he complained.
Trunks shook his head. "Fair enough," he said under his breath, remembering how quickly he'd run out on them the night before. At least he'd managed to scrounge up something. "Where's Bo?"
Trunks Jr.'s face soured slightly and he shrugged. "I don't know. He went into one of the extra guest rooms right after you left, but not his normal one. I haven't seen him since then and I can't sense him. Aunt Bra said he wasn't feeling good."
"Did Aunt Bra stay behind for long?" Trunks asked, wondering if she'd spoken to Bo or Trunks much. He wasn't sure how much freedom his sister would've felt to have that conversation with them.
Trunks Jr. shook his head and swallowed a huge bite. "She made me pizza, then left," he explained with a full mouth. He hadn't noticed Pan until that moment, and looked between the two of them curiously, noticing the vague concern on their faces. "Is everything okay? Bo was feeling fine one second and then wanted to be alone for the rest of the night. Aunt Bra kept making excuses for him, but I'm pretty sure it was a lie. Now you both look - weird."
"Everything's fine," his father assured him. "We have some stuff to talk about, but we need to find Bo first."
"I'm going to go look down the hall," Pan said.
Trunks was about to follow, but his son stopped him with a question. "Dad – did you stay over with Pan last night?"
"Yeah," he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, not noticing the look on his son's face fall into a slight frown.
"Oh…" he said quietly.
"Her couch just about killed my neck, too," he added absentmindedly, rubbing the sore spot that lingered from the armrest. He glanced up at his son, finally noticing the strange expressions of confusion and concern, wondering what had his inner gears turning so hard. "What's wrong?"
"They're usually in a bed on TV."
Trunks was about to ask him to explain the strange response, but before the words could form, he realized what his son had meant. His face grew slightly pink and he thanked any deity that would listen that Pan wasn't in the room. They didn't need anything more to feed the tension between them for the time being.
"First, we're going to talk about limiting your television more than we have been," he said calmly. "Secondly, I don't know what's going through your little head about why I was there, but I went because I needed to talk to her about something important. I stayed because I didn't want to fly back home in the storm. Getting out there was rough enough."
"Oh…" the boy simply repeated. The perplexed look lingered as he thought about his father's answer. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
Trunks rubbed the back of his head, looking down the hall as he heard the sound of doors opening and closing in the distance. Pan hadn't found Bo yet, but there was a lot of territory to cover. He might be upstairs too. He looked back at Trunks Jr. to find the same expression remaining. This was all likely confusing to him, and to make matters worse, his incorrect assumption brought up another uncomfortable conversation he'd been meaning to have for a long time.
"We need to have a talk about that, don't we?" Trunks asked his son.
His son's nose wrinkled in light disgust. "Ew. We already did, remember?"
"No I…" he interrupted himself with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "I meant – the possibility of me maybe dating again."
Trunks Jr. scratched his nose, taking another bite as his eyes fixated on a point on the ground as though he was lost in thought.
"Not sure how you feel about that, are you?" Trunks said, reading his son's silence.
The boy shrugged. "I know Bo wanted you to," he started, "and I like Pan, but…"
"It's uh – no, I wasn't talking about Pan," he said quickly.
His son twisted his head and raised an eyebrow. "You weren't?"
He chose to ignore the question, wishing he hadn't brought up the subject in the first place. "Go back to your cereal. I'm going to go see if I can help her find Bo."
Trunks Jr. obeyed momentarily, but his father was acting particularly strange. He wasn't a fan of change, but he could smell it in the air, and between the abnormally nervous look on Pan's face and the fact that he hadn't seen Bo all night, he was starting to get a bad feeling. He waited for his father to make his way down the long hall and around the curve before he stood up, put his makeshift cereal bowl on the ground and followed as quietly as possible.
The hallway on the first floor had a ton of doors from when it was still Trunks' grandfather's original lab. Very few of these rooms had been made into living quarters, but Pan wouldn't know that. She'd opened each one looking for Bo, who was still quashing his ki to a surprisingly effective level. Trunks pulled out his phone again, looking into the security system that was still active and thoroughly covered the grounds. She'd finally gone up to the second level, which was more likely where Bo would've found a spare room.
Sure enough, he caught up with her on the higher floor. She was staring from the doorway of an open room into it, although she hadn't stepped inside yet. He had a guess as to why not.
He approached the doorway slowly and looked inside for himself. Bo was sitting on the open window sill, looking out at the city and the cars driving by. He undoubtedly knew she was there too, yet neither made a move to acknowledge the other.
"He knows," he said quietly from behind Pan, echoing her thoughts.
She nodded affirmatively, crossing her arms in front of her. "Until I saw him there, I thought I knew exactly what I was going to say," she said, "but now I can't even find the will to go to him."
"Son Pan, are you chickening out?" he asked. She shot him a dirty glare, knowing he said it just to get under her skin. His charming smile prevented any real anger from her, but she knew her anxiety about talking with her own son probably did appear ridiculous. "Should I – talk to him alone?"
She hesitated, but reluctantly agreed. He had done her a favor by waiting to talk to her first before intentionally revealing anything to him, but now there was no use in pretending he owed her anything more than that. He was being polite, but he knew it as well as she did.
"I guess I can go back downstairs," she said.
"You sure you don't want to listen in?" he asked.
She was ready to shoot him another glare, but realized he was being serious with his question. "No, it's fine," she said.
He waited for her to change her mind, but she nodded in confirmation. Her determination to give them privacy lasted only a few seconds. The moment he'd taken a few steps into the room, she contradicted herself and ducked out of sight just outside of the doorway. The invitation to eavesdrop was impossible to resist. She wasn't sure she really wanted to hear what either of them might have to say, but she felt like she needed to know.
Trunks slowly walked in the room, making noise by clearing his throat so that he didn't startle the boy even though he likely already knew he was there. Bo turned his head part of the way around to acknowledge him, but it didn't serve to put Trunks at ease.
Trunks leaned his shoulder against the wall next to the window, looking outside at the view Bo had been staring at. The city was noisy that day. The storm had cancelled everyone's plans the night before and now the warm sun was beckoning everyone outside. There were traffic jams from flashing traffic lights that had been taken out of service due to power outages. A lot of people had the foresight to walk to their destinations, so the pedestrian paths were busier than normal too. Trunks could even see some families and couples enjoying the pavilions in the Capsule business park, which wasn't very common on the weekend. The mess definitely gave a rural boy something to look at, but Trunks wondered if Bo found all the "voices" to be a noisy cacophony, or if he was able to filter them out.
"It is a little noisy," Bo started at barely a whisper, "but I can hear them individually if I focus." He glanced at him briefly, but quickly returned to the view. His eyes were filled with uncertainty and worry, and Trunks could practically see the questions bouncing around inside of him.
Trunks smiled, glad to see Bo wasn't going to stay stone-cold silent. "So," he started gently, "If you can hear all of them – I'm guessing your gift let you hear just about everything running through my head last night pretty clearly."
Bo nodded affirmatively.
"Then you probably heard a lot of not very nice things – and one very big surprise that I happened to learn last night too."
He nodded again.
Trunks sighed. "I'm sorry if you heard something you didn't like," he said. "I know I was shocked, surprised, and a little angry. I don't even remember what you might've overheard, but I'm sure there was plenty of cussing and…"
"It's okay," Bo interrupted. "I know those were just your first reactions."
It was a relief to hear the words coming from the boy's mouth, even if he didn't seem to entirely believe them. At least that was one thing Trunks didn't have to try and explain or apologize for, even though controlling one's own inner dialogue was something Trunks had never developed a skill for. Most people never had to worry about it.
"Exactly. Things look a little different in the light of day than they did last night. So - I want to make sure you know how I really feel," Trunks explained.
"You were more than a 'little angry'," Bo said. "Do you and Mom really hate each other that much?"
"No," Trunks said without any hesitation whatsoever. It was the most important answer for him to have, and Trunks had already planned on making that fact clear.
The fast and genuine response should have brought Pan comfort as she listened in from the hallway, but her lips sank into a frown, a tightness forming in her throat. Those initial thoughts Trunks had during his first reaction – they couldn't have been friendly towards her, and Bo likely heard all of them.
"But," Trunks continued, "she hid you from me. It's – going to take a long time before I'm not pissed about that."
Bo looked at him in confusion. He was trying not to dig into his father's thoughts, to let him express himself in words, like his aunt had suggested. But so far, he was only raising more questions. "Why?" he asked. "I don't understand why she didn't tell me – why she didn't tell you."
Trunks shifted his weight and scratched his chin as he considered his answer. This was an area he wanted to tread carefully through, but Bo might not understand why. He wanted to be honest, but their young son didn't need to know the ins and outs of their entire relationship, about Trunks Jr.'s mother, or about why he and Pan hadn't stayed together. Most grown adults wouldn't understand. Hell – he wasn't sure he completely understood either, even after the lengthy night he and Pan had spent hashing out the past.
"She was very angry with me for a while," he answered honestly. "That's not a good enough reason for keeping us apart, but sometimes – anger and pain can make you do things that you wouldn't normally do, even if you know it's wrong."
"What did you do?" Bo asked in disbelief. "I don't think it was bad enough to hide…" he trailed off before he said something that might get him in trouble, but Trunks picked up from where he'd left off anyway.
"You've never read her thoughts on it?" he asked dubiously. Bo didn't answer at first. "You can be honest with me. Today's an excellent day for honesty and you're not going to get in trouble."
"She – tries not to think about you," he said, looking more than a little embarrassed to admit Trunks' assumption was right. "And when she does, it gets very chaotic and difficult to understand. She cusses a lot too – more than you did."
Trunks chortled wryly. "Sounds about right," he said. "Bo – it wasn't right for her to hide the truth from us. But because of the way – because of some things I said to her, I – hurt her feelings pretty badly. When she found out she was going to have you, I guess she was still angry enough to want to keep me away from both of you."
"You said you didn't hate each other."
Trunks sighed and scratched his head, trying to think of how to reply. "You can be very angry at someone and still - not hate them," he started, taking a deep breath. He had some additional words in mind, but he wasn't sure how much Bo wanted to hear, or how much Pan wanted him to hear.
Bo narrowed his eyes. He was going to get better about not intruding on people's thoughts, just like he promised his newly-discovered aunt. For the moment, his desperate need to know was outweighing his sense of responsibility with his power. He looked into his father's mind, sorting through the tangled web of half-formed murmurings to the trail of thoughts that felt the most genuine, the ones that contained what he really wanted to say, but was holding back for some reason.
"'You can be very angry at someone and still love them,'" Bo said. "That's what you were going to say. Why did you change it when you said it?"
Today is a day for honesty, Trunks repeated mentally. "Because it's something that's not always easy to admit," he said, "even when it's the truth. Especially when – there are hard feelings."
"So, you loved each other – but she hid me from you and you did something to hurt her anyway," he finished. Trunks nodded uneasily in confirmation. It was an over-simplification, but it wasn't inaccurate. "I don't understand," Bo said under his breath.
Trunks' face had grown a little warm and he'd fought the temptation to clarify or refute what Bo had plucked from his mind. To do so would just be more dishonesty. Although he'd never felt like it was the right time to say it to her, the feeling had been there. He'd known a long time before that day on the butte, before the day in Pan's dojo when he'd been in class with her, possibly even before the night of the party in the Capsule dome. It had snuck up on him at some point, but if he was honest, he'd felt it early. Bo was just calling out that reality.
Pan had heard it too, but the silence that followed from Trunks had been even louder. She did what she could to push her energy down, but the redness still blossomed on her cheeks as her fingernails dug into the flesh of her hands.
There had been a time when overhearing that exchange would've been music to her, but not anymore. Instead, it sent a wave of fresh confusion and frustration through her core, causing heat to rise in her chest. His actions years before were actually easier for her to grasp when she assumed her feelings weren't reciprocated. Believing that he simply didn't feel anything for her helped her process the reason she'd lost this quiet contest. After all, the victor was his childhood sweetheart, and Pan was just someone he felt a general sense of fondness towards who he happened to share an extreme level of physical compatibility with. It made the decision make sense to her, even back when the wounds were still fresh and raw.
Knowing that her feelings weren't one-sided, that there was some reciprocity, took the cold logic out of the equation of his decision. He felt everything too, which meant if their timing had been slightly better, they might've had a future. The realization had a bitter flavor, even a decade later, but she couldn't entirely deny the positive sensation that had crept up inside her along with it.
Trunks' eyes sunk to the ground as he considered what to say next, so he missed Bo's glance back at the doorway. The boy was used to feeling his mother's anger; she could be a volatile person. However, this wasn't the pure emotion he was used to - it was a muddled mix of anger dulled by sadness, but with a modicum of warm relief.
"I don't understand either, honestly," Trunks answered after some thought, deciding not to deny Bo's soft accusation. "Not all of us have the luxury of reading each other's thoughts. If we could, maybe she would've seen that I never wanted or intended to hurt her like I did."
"So – you ended up marrying Trunks' mom instead," Bo added. He could see that floating around in his father's head too, but Trunks was nervous about telling him that part.
Trunks twisted his lips. "Be careful about doing that too much, Bo. You…"
"I might hear something I don't want to," he said quietly. "Aunt Bra said the same thing."
"Right," Trunks said. "So, you can be mad at your mother if you want. I am. You can be mad at me too, if that's how you feel; I know she still is. But – regardless of that, we're both ready to put it behind us – for your sake. We want to do things the right way from here on out."
Bo nodded, although he didn't look as convinced as Trunks was hoping he would. "What does that mean?"
"Well," he started, "that means you and I are going to spend some time together so we can get to know each other. Maybe I can help you get your first build started once you've taken a look at that thumb drive I gave you last night." Bo's face lightened considerably at the suggestion. "And, it means that you'll need to set up a permanent bedroom here because you'll be spending more weekends with us at Capsule. If you want to, anyway," he added quickly.
Bo actually smiled softly. "I – was afraid…"
Trunks' face wrinkled in concern when he trailed off. "Afraid of what?"
"That you and Mom would be so mad at each other, you wouldn't want Trunks and I spending time together anymore…"
Trunks chuckled softly and put a hand on his shoulder. "No matter what's going on between us, we wouldn't take you away from Trunks. I mean – he's your brother, right?"
Bo's eyes lit up at that statement, as though it hadn't crossed his mind yet. Before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a shout from the doorway.
"We're brothers?!" Trunks Jr. suddenly shrieked in shock from right behind Pan.
She jumped out of her skin. She'd been listening so intently, he'd managed to sneak up on her completely and had been piecing the story together for himself bit-by-bit. She crouched near the wall, doing her best to swallow her heart again, which felt like it was about to beat out of her esophagus.
He immediately ran into the room, looking between his father and Bo in astonishment. "Really? You and Pan… I have a brother?!"
Trunks nodded, answering his son's question. Bo looked at his friend hesitantly, still unsure of how he should react to the shouting.
"Half-brothers, technically," Trunks said. "So - things may change a little. Bo's going to spend more time here, and he'll be switching between Capsule Corp and Pan's house like he has been. We'll set him up his own space, too."
"Can I go with him when he moves around?" Trunks Jr. asked, "so we can still train and stuff on the weekends?"
"Pan already said you can if you want. You'll have to share a room at her place though."
"Alright!" Trunks Jr. said excitedly. Bo was relieved to see the happy reaction - until he started his next question. "So, does that mean you'll have less time to spend on me? Like – I won't be getting as much of your focused attention?"
Bo looked up at his father in concern. However, Trunks already had a sarcastic smirk on his face. He knew his son and he knew where this was going. "Probably."
Trunks Jr. laughed and fist pumped the air in celebration. "It's about time," he shouted happily. He ran over and grabbed Bo, dragging him backwards out of the windowsill and giving him a tight hug around the neck. Bo's face began relaxing from its worried state, and before long, he was smiling brightly too.
Pan leaned against the doorway, her arms were crossed, but there was a tentative smile on her face. Her eyes met Trunks' for a moment. It wasn't clear if he'd known she'd overheard what she did, but he returned her smile.
This could work, she thought happily, watching her son struggle in his brother's embrace, and enjoying the pure light that came from his eyes his earlier worries faded.