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Forward	By : beccapenguin Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2617 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, Dragonball Z or Dragonball GT. This is purely a fanmade work, I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Sorry for the wait! This chapter has no lemons/limes, and will focus entirely on the plot. A lot of this chapter is based on events that happen in the TV special, but I tried my hardest to add additional content so it wouldn't be a word-for-word retelling. I hope you'll still read it. Enjoy!

- - -
A breeze passed through the city--sweeping up the dust from the rubble. Trunks closed his eyes as his bangs swept past his face.
When he opened them, the breeze had died, and everything was still again. He looked down at the city from his perch on the roof of Capsule Corp. Down the street was a building that had the top floors cut in half--it looked like a chocolate bar with the corner bit off. A lot of buildings looked like that.
On the street below, construction workers were debating on how to fix it. Everywhere else, there were dump trucks filled with chunks of concrete and metal--desperately trying to pick up the streets. Trunks watched the yellow lights of the vehicles flash until they disappeared behind the buildings.
He almost sighed.
He looked down at his hands. There were still bruises on his wrists, but they were faint and yellow. He felt his chest clenching as he looked at them, and realized the pain he felt was internal and not physical.
His body could handle just about anything that was thrown at him--it was in his warrior blood. But inside, especially when he thought of Gohan, he just felt so... weak.
It hurt to think about him, and it hurt just as much trying not to think about him. Trunks' feelings for his mentor had not been squashed, despite what had happened. However, after the events of the previous day, he was finally beginning to determine Gohan's feelings for him.
To Gohan, Trunks was nothing more than a comfort. He might have cared for him as a student, or as a friend, maybe more--but in the end, Trunks was a tool. He represented a sanctuary. He shared Gohan's pain.
What relationship can be had with a tool, though? When Trunks' use dried up, what would become of them? If the androids were defeated, would Trunks lose Gohan in the process? With that in mind, Trunks wondered if he even could be considered a true friend.
Trunks tried to rationalize it. He and Gohan had so much history. Gohan couldn't have faked every smile, every laugh. The androids weren't the ones bringing them together--they were the ones tearing them apart from having a normal relationship.
As he thought about the androids, he felt his blood simmer. Trunks clenched his fists--damn them. It wasn't just random people that were being hurt by the androids. Now, they were destroying the lives of the people Trunks cared about.
It was nothing new. But now that Trunks had grown closer to his mentor, he only wished for Gohan to find peace. As his mind drifted to memories of the night before, he remembered the pain and darkness in Gohan's eyes--no one could have caused that but the androids.
Trunks was determined to not give up. He would defeat the androids and he wouldn't settle for Gohan pushing him away. He would fix this.
“The military is rounding up troops to dispose of the androids. The Commander is confident that the new technology will help increase their chances of success.”
“If a war is what these monsters want, then its a war they’ll get it. We’ll show them that humans are not to be messed with! If we can build these creatures, then we can destroy them!”
“What a load of crap,” Bulma said with a huff, shutting off the television. “If the tanks didn’t work before, what’s going to make them work now? Armored vehicles like that are just too slow. Now, if they had followed my prototypes--”
The blue-haired woman was cut off by the sound of the front door. Gohan entered the building, stomping the dust off his boots before pulling them off. When he turned the shoes upside down and shook them, a few pebbles and other miscellaneous scraps fell out.
“How’s the city looking?” Bulma asked, raising an eyebrow. Gohan just looked at her, a scowl on his face. “Not in the mood to talk about it, hmm? That’s fair, I guess.”
Bulma got up, disappearing momentarily, and came back with a bag that she handed to Gohan.
“What’s this?”
“Your new weights.” When Gohan looked up at her, she continued, “The city will be fine without you. You should go back home and resume your training. The military doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing--it's going to be up to you to defeat them.”
It was one of the few times that Gohan had actually received Bulma’s encouragement to fight the androids, and he didn’t take it lightly. He nodded in understanding, a serious expression crossing his face. When he looked at Bulma, he noticed a similarly solemn expression on her face. He remembered his conversation with her, before he had tried to hunt down the androids--she sensed it too, that the androids were becoming more violent. They both knew that things would have to be resolved soon.
“Let me pack my other things,” Gohan said.
“I, uh, added an extra set of weights,” Bulma said, clearing her throat. “In case, you know, something else happens.”
Gohan didn’t say anything. He understood what Bulma was trying to tell him.
“Where’s Trunks?”
Bulma pointed up.
Trunks already had seen Gohan enter the building, so he wasn’t surprised when the older demi-Saiyan joined him on the roof soon after. He hadn’t talked to Gohan since the incident, and wasn’t even sure if he’d even be able to face him. He kept his eyes pointedly below, trying to maintain his focus on the city--even as he heard the footsteps approach him.
“I’m going back.”
Trunks didn’t answer.
“You should come too.”
Trunks nodded, standing up.
“You should say goodbye to Bulma.”
“Yeah.”
Trunks floated down to the ground floor, ready to say goodbye--understanding that depending on how things played out, it could very well be his last time speaking to his mother. As he moved past Gohan, he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.
Even when flying, it took a couple hours to get to Gohan’s house. The trip was filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither party wanting to bring up the events from the past few days. Occasionally Trunks would glance at Gohan, and couldn’t help but feel like his mentor was handling this awkwardness better than him.
Halfway through the trip, they took a break in a clearing, and Trunks sat underneath the shade of a tree, watching Gohan carefully. His mentor pulled out a small bag and withdrew a small object, tiny and round and green, and entirely unidentifiable. Trunks' eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out exactly what it was.
"What is that?"
"A senzu bean," Gohan answered, closing his hand protectively around the small object. "There used to be a whole bunch of them, but this is the only one left. They have magical healing properties--as long as you're still alive and can eat one, it can close your wounds and recover your ki."
Trunks watched carefully as Gohan packed away the senzu in a small bag that he tucked into his sash.
"Were you going to use that in your fight against the androids?"
It was the first time either of them had brought it up, and Trunks felt his breath hitch as he waited for Gohan’s response. The young man seemed to hesitate, but he answered nonetheless.
"That was my plan but... I wanted to save it, in case I really needed it."
"They hurt you pretty bad," Trunks said. He lowered his gaze, remembering the other night, when he saw the darkened, scarred flesh on Gohan's chest. Just thinking about it brought a sense of worry. Gohan sensed Trunks' fear but didn't bat an eye.
"I'll have to be near death, and determined that I will win, if I even want to think about wasting one of these," Gohan said flatly. Trunks tried not to think of Gohan being near death, but it was difficult not to.
"Gohan, promise me you won't fight them on your own again."
Gohan didn't say anything. Trunks continued.
"They could have killed you--"
"Trunks, I can't promise that," Gohan cut in.
"I know that I'm still in the beginning of my training--I know my experience is nothing compared to yours and that I'm not as strong. But I can't handle having you fight these battles on your own."
Gohan didn't say anything at first. He rubbed his forehead, and Trunks could sense how stressed his mentor felt.
"Let’s just go home Trunks," he said, and though Trunks wasn't entirely happy with that response, he nodded obediently.
The two packed up and started heading toward the Son Household, flying with renewed speed. As they flew over several acres of hills, there was a glint of light from down below.
Trunks and Gohan both caught sight of it and glanced down, noticing the reflecting light coming off of something metal down below. From the height they were flying at, it was difficult to see the details, but the shapes down below were definitely vehicles.
"What's that?" Trunks asked.
The two approached closer, finding a group of upturned vehicles and thrown bodies. The vehicles were tanks and trucks--all military vehicles. Trunks and Gohan spotted a man sitting against a rock.
"We should call for help--"Gohan started, but the stranger cut him off.
"No need," he said, his voice heavy. He didn't appear injured, aside from some cuts and bruises, but he had dark circles underneath his eyes. "I contacted the nearest city. They're sending ambulances."
"What happened?" Trunks asked him.
"The androids," he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "We tried to eliminate them but they were too much--terrifying in fact."
Trunks glanced at Gohan, noticing the way he tensed.
"Do you know where they went?"
"That direction," the stranger replied, pointing.
"Thanks. Let's go, Trunks."
"Wait--you're not actually going to go after them, are you?!" the soldier demanded, but Gohan already took off. Trunks followed closely after him.
As they flew, they caught a glimpse of civilization, and decided to approach it in the hopes of catching onto the androids' trail. As they moved in, they discovered that the buildings were actually rides, and what they thought was a town was actually the amusement park, Super World.
Down below, they saw a person running--first one, then dozens, then more than the eye could count.
They were all running from one direction--escaping from the center of Super World and toward the exits. Trunks looked at Gohan, and Gohan nodded in response. It was them.
They drew closer to the amusement park. Most of the park guests had escaped, and the grounds were eerily quiet--save for the sound of operating rides and carnival music. Gohan and Trunks travelled the grounds carefully, when they both heard a woman's laughter in the distance.
The two flew toward the eerie sound, landing before a carousel ride. Standing there, about to board on the ride, were the androids.
Trunks could feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He was madly nervous, but not as afraid as he thought he would be.
The androids were exactly like what they were pictured as in the media. They were both young--appearing to be teenagers. Their eyes were soulless but aside from that, they looked entirely human. Had Trunks not experienced the damage that they were capable of firsthand, he hardly would have considered them a threat.
The androids glared at their arrival.
"Oh goodie. Look who's back..." Android 18 said sarcastically, adding an exasperated sigh. "What do you say we finish him off this time?"
"Sure," Android 17 with a smirk. Android 18 hopped off the carousel and joined her brother's side.
"Trunks, let me handle this," Gohan warned.
Any other time, Trunks would have argued, but considering the gravity of the situation, he nodded and quickly backed away. He knew the androids were still far out of his league.
When the fight began, Trunks could barely keep up.
The female android wasn't interested at all, but Android 17 flew at Gohan with a speed that Trunks could barely witness. But Gohan fought back, eventually igniting his Super Saiyan form.
The two moved at enviable speeds, racing back and forth, hopping around from place to place. They seemed to be everywhere at once.
Trunks was amazed. He had sparred with Gohan plenty of times, but he had never realized until now that he had never fully witnessed Gohan's full potential. It was both inspiring and humbling.
But Android 17 was strong too, and every time he struck Gohan, Trunks could feel the tension rising. But as the battle progressed, Trunks soon realized that Gohan was landing the most hits.
He's doing it. He's actually doing it.
Gohan was starting to win when suddenly, there was a flash of movement before his eyes. It wasn't until it was too late that Gohan had realized that Android 18 had stepped in.
The android struck him across the face, sending him flying downwards. Everything happened so fast that he hadn't even processed what had happened until he crashed through straight through a gift shop.
He had broken through window. Gohan gritted his teeth in pain as the glass stuck to his body, cutting him brand new wounds. A few shards dug into his flesh, piercing him, and the dust of glass cut into his hands as he struggled to pick himself back up.
Just as he stood up, he saw two figures racing toward him, and a voice cried out:
"Gohan!"
Trunks rushed in to help, just as the androids began to gang up on the older demi-Saiyan. Sensing Trunks' approach, 18 quickly fired a blast at him, knocking him back.
Trunks grunted at the assault but quickly recovered, chasing after the female android. The two chased each other across the park, eventually landing on top of the ferris wheel.
The ferris wheel was still functioning, slowly moving. They were high up and the winds whipped at them both. Even so, with the exception of her flowing blonde hair, Android 18 seemed to be frozen in time. She didn’t flinch when her hair moved past her eyes or tremble under the force of the winds.
Trunks could feel adrenaline rushing through his veins as he faced the android. Her cold emotionless eyes penetrated him but Trunks stood his ground--refusing to let the android scare him.
"You better run while you still can," she warned, her voice menacing.
"What, and let you gang up on my friend again?!" Trunks shot back, but 18 just smirked.
Trunks rushed in, throwing a punch. 18 easily dodged it, along with every strike that followed. She made fighting look like child's play, dodging Trunks' quickest jabs without even batting an eye.
18 punched back, and despite the shattering feel of her fist against his face, he kept on the offensive. She struck back again, and Trunks could feel his head pounding and the taste of blood inside his cheek. She hit hard, and didn't even break a sweat doing it.
She stepped aside as he swung a heavy punch, responding with a punch of her own that had him seeing stars. But he quickly responded--kneeing her in the stomach.
She grunted at the blunt pain, and Trunks saw the way her eyes widened and knew he got her good. He didn't get a chance to celebrate--fury clouded her eyes, and she struck him hard--throwing him off the ferris wheel and sending him hurtling toward the ground.
The world seemed to fly past him--tossing, turning--like a blur of color. But then it all suddenly came to a stop when the android caught him in midair by the collar of his shirt. The sudden stop left Trunks’ head rattling.
He dared to open his eyes, his gaze locking with 18's--both beautiful and cruel. A bemused smirk graced her face. Trunks felt sick to his stomach.
This was it. He knew it. But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of playing around with him before killing him off.
"Go ahead... do it... you witch."
The amusement fell from her face, and she readied a large ki blast. Trunks clenched his eyes, waiting for the end, when suddenly there was a loud clapping noise.
Trunks looked up just in time to see Gohan kick 18, and soon the boy was falling again.
"Die!"
There was a flash of light in his peripherals, but the blast never landed as he slipped from 18's grasp. But then a sharp pain hit him in the back--a ki blast from an entirely different direction.
Trunks' ears rang for a moment, and the searing pain on his back was so unbearable that he almost blacked out on impact. Instead, his head teeter tottered back and forth--his heart thumping loudly in chest. The air seemed to spin again, though this time, instances of black flashed across his vision.
Trunks felt himself land in a pair of familiar arms, and there was yet another flash of light. Gohan dodged 18's ki blast and started running. Trunks could see the flashes of light underneath his eyelids, pulsing back and forth between red and black. He could hear the sound of the blasts firing off like lasers.
The last thing he remembered was his head being pressed against Gohan's chest, listening to his heart beat until finally, everything faded to black.
Trunks stirred, beginning to wake up. His eyelids felt heavy, and he blinked several times before opening his eyes. A harsh light shined down on him--and as Trunks' eyes adjusted, he made out the words on the light up sign as Super World.
Trunks sat up, gasping. His memories came rushing back all at once. He looked around, surveying the area in horror--everything was destroyed.
And then a single thought came to mind:
"Gohan!"
His only response was the echo of his own voice. Trunks stood to his feet, spinning around frantically. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure directly behind him.
When Trunks turned around, his body suddenly screamed in pain. Trunks grunted to himself--he had been unaware of how badly his body ached until that moment. Nothing was broken, but everything was sore. Even on Trunks' most difficult training days, he had never known such pain.
If it wasn't for the trademark orange and blue colors of his uniform, Trunks would have never known who it was. Gohan was barely recognizable, covered in deep layers of dirt and blood.
Gohan didn't say anything and was laying face planted on the ground. Trunks was almost too afraid to approach him--assuming the worst. It wasn't until Gohan's body stirred that Trunks came to his side.
But once he got close, he stopped himself.
Gohan was positioned on his front, so the boy hadn't seen it at first. But once he was within view, he noticed the thick puddle of blood that seeped from underneath Gohan, pooling out beside him. The ground was already saturated in crimson.
The mess of blood disguised everything at first--all of the dark colors blurred together. But once his vision had picked up on the details, Trunks' stomach dropped.
Gohan's arm was missing.
The sleeve was torn, and Trunks had barely differentiated the dark fabric from the skin at first until he looked closer. It was a horrifying sight--the skin was stained black and red, and blood gushed from the open wound.
The smell of blood and gore suddenly hit him as he grew close. Trunks fell backwards and he turned away, covering his mouth.
Acid burned the back of his esophagus, and he turned his head away from the site as he gagged--threatening to spill his guts onto the ground. He clenched his eyes as he waited for the nausea to subside.
He turned back around, even though it made him sick. His heart was racing and his eyes burned. How could this have happened?
He got closer to Gohan, noticing the way his mentor's closed eyelids twitched. The young man was floating between consciousness and unconsciousness. Trunks crawled next to him.
"Gohan?"
A fresh, deep scar trailed alongside the edge of Gohan's face--cutting across his eyebrow and eyelid down to his chin. Blood dripped along the contours of his face.
"Gohan, can you hear me?"
He was going to die--Trunks was sure of it. Suddenly, Trunks remembered.
The senzu bean! It could save Gohan. Trunks checked Gohan's sash, and blanched when nothing came up. As he sat up, he suddenly noticed something laying underneath Gohan's hand.
Trunks grabbed the small, burlap bag. He turned it upside down and shook it.
"Where is it?!" Trunks asked, frantically looking in the bag and then surveying the area. The bag was open but nothing was inside--
Trunks' heart stopped for a moment. His head put the pieces together. His fist clenched around the bag, and he shuddered with rage.
"You fucking idiot!"
He threw the bag across the lot, and felt his eyes burn. The tears would not fall, but he could not help himself from shaking.
"Why? Why would you do that? I'm not fucking worth it!"
There was no time to be angry, he rationalized. He had to save Gohan. Finally, he pulled Gohan over his shoulder, and though every part of his body trembled, he lifted them both into the air and began to float. He tredged in the direction of West City.
As they travelled, Gohan began mumbling incoherently. Trunks strained his hearing, trying to listen.
"No time... fix it..."
"Gohan?"
"Run away... no..."
"No one's chasing after us," Trunks answered, but Gohan kept mumbling anyways. Trunks kept his mouth shut, deciding there was no point in trying to calm Gohan down.
His mind was already somewhere else.
Bulma glanced at a clock. She sighed to herself--midnight already? She rubbed her eyes before turning back to her computer, cataloging data from her most recent experiment.
After many late nights, she was on the brink of a discovery. It was all she thought about these days. She was so wrapped up in her work that she didn't even notice the door had opened until she heard Trunks behind her.
When she turned, she gasped in horror.
"What happened?!" she asked, rising from her chair.
Trunks was covered in cuts and bruises. Draped over his shoulders was Gohan--who, at first glance, was unrecognizable.
"The androids," Trunks said, too exhausted to explain. He had carried the unconscious Gohan all the way from Super World.
"Get him to my table. Hurry!" Bulma commanded.
Trunks was glad that she was acting rationally. It was taking everything for him to not completely lose his mind. He followed her commands and hurried into her lab, placing Gohan onto the table. Gohan grunted in pain as he was switched to a new surface, the noise being the only indication that he was still conscious.
"Oh my god," Bulma breathed, when she came to the table. She covered her mouth as she stared in wide-eyed horror. "Gohan, your arm..."
Gohan barely paid her any attention. His breathing was ragged and he hissed in pain as he grabbed his shoulder where the torn limb was.
Bulma ran to grab her tools while Trunks just stared blankly at the scene before him. His mind was reeling and he could hardly grasp on to what was happening. It still hadn't sunk in that Gohan had lost his arm, much less that he was in such critical condition.
Bulma moved around them busily while Gohan tossed and turned. The world seemed to be rushing by, but to Trunks, he was at a standstill. He was too shocked.
This is it, Trunks realized, swallowing. After all of the training, after all of the battles, after all of the close encounters... This was it. This was the moment where Gohan could actually die.
Finally, Trunks could feel his body respond. He clenched his eyes shut. No! Gohan couldn't die. He was the strongest warrior Trunks knew. No one could defeat him.
Even so, Gohan's image still haunted him--his arm torn to pieces, the dripping blood, his limp body. Trunks looked down at his hands--his beloved mentor's blood still stained them. There was a pool of blood on his shirt as well, where he had Gohan draped around his shoulders. Trunks suddenly began to shake in horror.
Bulma hooked Gohan up to several machines--his heart rate, blood pressure and blood oxygen levels were all on clear display. Trunks didn’t have a clue what any of it meant, he only recognized the beeping sound of Gohan’s heart rate. It wasn’t until Bulma had Gohan hooked up that she realized Trunks was still in the room.
   “Trunks, stand outside,” she ordered. The words didn’t even process in his head. He was still staring blankly at the scene before him. Bulma huffed to herself impatiently and got up, pushing Trunks out of the room. “I won’t say it again! Stand outside!”
   It wasn’t until he was being pushed along that he realized what was happening.
   “Mom!” he tried to argue, but she already closed the door on him. His first instinct was to go back inside, but when his bloody hands reached for the door, he was suddenly frozen.
   Its all my fault.
The thought came to him like an anchor plunging into the sea.
If he hadn’t been so weak--
If he hadn’t been so rash--
None of this would have happened.
He felt the hot tears sting at his eyes, remembering the empty burlap sack. Finally, he felt the tears roll down his face. He felt them as they dripped off, landing onto the tiles below him. Yet, it didn’t even occur to him that he was crying. His mind was in a state of pure shock. Guilt and fear surfaced on the edges--fear for what could have been done, guilt for all that was done. Pulling at him was the hope that Gohan would make it out alive, but it was far from the optimistic type of hope. It was a last hope, a desperate hope--because if all of this failed, if Gohan died, Trunks would never be able to forgive himself.
A bloodcurdling cry suddenly penetrated the air. Trunks jumped in shock. He could hear his mother’s voice faintly on the other side of the door, though he could not make out her words. Another scream of pure, unadulterated pain--a hoarse cry that was all too familiar.
Gohan.
Trunks’ hand clenched into a fist against the door. His body began to tremble as Gohan’s screams filled his mind.
And for the first time, he truly felt it.
The Saiyan blood was boiling.
"Hello, nice to meet you."
"His name is Gohan."
"So, you named him after your grandpa, hmm?"
Bulma checked Gohan's vitals one last time before finally pulling away. He was finally stabilized and she had stopped the bleeding. The surgery was a success and she was able to fix the arteries in his missing limb. Now, he was sound asleep.
With a heavy sigh she pulled away from her work and went upstairs to check on Trunks. Trunks was waiting in the kitchen, and rose to his feet when he noticed his mother.
"Is he okay?"
"Yes," she said. Trunks sighed in relief and sat back down. She added sternly, "He's sleeping right now so don't bother him."
"I wouldn't do that," Trunks insisted. He was just happy to know that Gohan had survived.
"Hello Gohan. How old are you?"
"I'm four years old."
"My, he has such good manners. Are you sure he's your son, Goku?"
Bulma went and grabbed snacks for her and Trunks.
"You should eat something."
Trunks hadn't even thought about eating until Bulma had mentioned it. Suddenly, he was starving. Even so, the idea of eating felt sickening. After all the horrors he had faced, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stomach any food.
The beginnings of dawn began to etch at the sky. Bulma set down a plate of fruit in front of Trunks, and just looking at it felt like a chore.
Along with the food, Bulma had a first aid kit tucked under her arm. She pulled it out but Trunks stopped her.
"No, Mom, don't worry about it." Bulma opened her mouth to argue but Trunks cut her off. "He used a senzu bean on me. Aside from some soreness, most of my wounds are healed."
Bulma sat back for a moment as this information sunk in. She closed her eyes for a moment before replying, "Let me at least bandage you up--just in case your wounds reopen."
"Okay," Trunks said, forcing himself to relax.
Bulma worked on Trunks in silence, neither of them having anything to say. Trunks' eyes were glued to the floor and too many thoughts were racing in Bulma's head.
Memories of distant days flooded through her head. She began to choke up again--when she had operated on Gohan, she nearly cried. When she looked at him, she thought of how much he resembled his father. Just thinking about it made her tremble.
And when she pulling apart the dead flesh and removing the crushed bones, and he screamed, she couldn't help but remember when she first met him, and how he was so sweet and small, and now he was in a living Hell.
And to think that through all of the pain he faced, he still sacrificed his own well-being to save her son...
"Mom?"
Bulma looked up, noticing the concerned look on her son's face. Bulma felt the tear that was running down her cheek and quickly wiped it off on her arm.
"Sorry," she said, and she offered Trunks a smile. Trunks just stared.
Bulma added a bandage to the last cut, noticing how the scab was fully formed and nearly healed already. It was probably due to the senzu bean.
With that in mind, Bulma closed her eyes.
Thank you, Gohan.
"Hold it right there!"
Trunks froze in place, reluctantly turning around. His mother came storming up to him, her feet stomping against the tiles. Trunks scowled.
"It's been a week," he argued.
"I don't care, Trunks! He needs to rest!" Bulma said, putting herself between him and the door for added measure. "Just let him relax."
"I just want to see how he's doing!" Trunks fought back. Bulma glared at him.
"N-O," she spelled out, crossing her arms. "I'm putting a lock on the door. You're not to go in until he's fully healed."
"That's not fair!"
"Trunks! This isn't about you!" She let out a groan. "Ugh, this stubborn boy of mine..."
Trunks rolled his eyes. He had heard that phrase one too many times in the past week.
Trunks rolled over onto his back, panting. He unclipped the weights attached to his wrists and laid for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He managed to finish his training routine with the increased weights--he had reached a new goal. But damn, he was tired.
The gravity room had long lost its namesake abilities--his grandpa, who maintained the room, passed away a few years ago, and Bulma had developed the weights so there was no need for the gravity controls. Still, it made a good training area.
As he stared at the ceiling, he counted the days in his head. Sixteen days since the attack on Super World.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Trunks passed by the door everyday on his way to the old gravity room. He used to pause by it and stand as close as he could next to the door, sensing the faint ki on the other side. But when he went to open the door, the coded lock prevented him.
Twenty days had passed. He walked his way to the gravity room, and did a double-take when he walked by the room.
But he didn't stop.
He heard his voice for the first time in weeks.
It was just for a brief moment. He was standing in the hallway just as his mother was leaving. He didn't catch the words he said, nor the tone he said them in, but he did hear his voice.
"How's Gohan doing?" he asked his mother.
"Good," was all she said, offering a smile, and she walked right past him. Trunks watched her back as she walked away until he finally realized she had nothing else to add.
His expression soured.
It had been so long since they last had a visitor, he almost didn't recognize the sound of the doorbell. When he answered the door, he was greeted by an older woman with dark hair and a solemn face.
She didn't have to say anything--Trunks recognized her enough. But she asked anyways:
"Is Gohan here?"
Bulma came to the door next, and it took only a second for Chichi to take her place next to her side. The two women started walking further into Capsule Corp. together, almost as if they had practiced this all out.
Trunks only caught fragments of what they whispered to one another.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner--I always had the intention of telling you, I just wanted to wait until he was in stable condition--"
"Don't worry about it, I understand--"
"He isn't expecting visitors--"
"I know, we--we haven't been talking as much--"
"You deserve to see him, you are his mother after all--"
"Its just--it's just that I'm so afraid. I knew this would happen when he told me he was going to fight the androids. I just wish he'd understand. After Goku, he's all I have left--"
Their voices faded away as they moved further into the distance. Trunks watched as they disappeared around the corner.
Trunks started his daily morning routine. He got up, got dressed, ate breakfast, and got ready to go to the gravity room. He carried his water bottle and towel with him, and stopped when he arrived at the door.
The room was normally wide open, but today, the door was closed.
Trunks looked up, his eyes growing wide, as he suddenly sensed a familiar ki.
His heart racing, his smile growing, he swung open the door and quickly ran inside.
"Gohan!"
His dark haired mentor stopped in the middle of his training to look at him. Trunks' excitement quickly faded when Gohan stood up fully.
Perhaps it was his eagerness to see him--he wasn't sure how he else he could have forgotten.
A jagged scar was permanently placed on the side of his face. His left arm was gone, cut off halfway from the bicep down.
Trunks closed his mouth firmly, the smile slipping--the excitement fading from his eyes until they became nothing but jaded orbs.
That's right.
This was Hell.

- - -

A/N: I can't believe this story is so close to the end! Just the chapter, the epilogue, and the alternative ending. I have a few one-shots in store, as well as a multi-chapter story. All of them are DBZ-related.

I started up a tumblr specifically for my fanfiction and fanart. I'll be posting a preview of Chapter 8, as well as a few other things, on there eventually. You can use it to ask me questions as well! My username is penguinzero, you can also find a link in my bio/profile. Please check it out. Thanks for all of your support!
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