His teacher

It's here! For all three of you who care! I have nothing to rant about, so ta-da!

I was too lazy/forgetful to do up review responses. But I responded to most of them already anyway. To Sage, the only person I didn't talk too, I say, you might want to get over your apparent dislike of cliffhangers. It's one tacky writing tool I particularly like.


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Chapter 3: A bad morning
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With the city whose name he didn't even know spread out before him, Gohan kicked his legs over the ledge he sat on, occasionally dislodging small pebbles when he made contact with the mountainside, which fell the countless miles down to the ground below.
Everyone was behind him, obviously. They were all talking, mostly to the adult Trunks, pestering him with questions about what was going to happen. Gohan didn't care.

Well, that wasn't true. Of course he cared what was going to happen to the world, but he could hear everything that was being said just fine from here. There was no point in adding his voice to the cacophony. If he thought of a question that hadn't been asked yet, he would speak up. He didn't see what the big deal was, anyway. Trunks had only been a baby when all this had happened the first time; he didn't actually know anything first hand.

They would win. They had Goku with them. There was no way they could have worked any harder to get here. Looking away from the possibly doomed city, Gohan glanced at his fingers. They were all swollen, the tips especially so, and his fingernails were all shiny and white-looking. A consequence of all the training—everyone else had spent the last three years at it, nonstop. And when they hadn't been training, they'd been talking about it, or thinking about it, or somehow otherwise getting ready. Gohan could count on one hand the number of conversations he'd had with his father in the last three years that hadn't been about the impending crisis.

Actually, never mind the last three years. He could probably do that for the entirety of his life. Goku had never been much for deep, meaningful conversation—deep, meaningful anything, really. For all that his friends knew him as an emotional guy, he sure knew how to turn it off at will.

"Alright, now listen carefully, Gohan." A light wind tugged at Gohan's hair and made Piccolo's cape billow from where he stood just a few feet off. Goku continued. "The most important thing in battle is to focus."

"I know that." Only everyone had told him that for his whole life.

"I know you do, son. I'm going to teach you how to do it properly. It's not just about paying attention to your battle. It's also knowing how to ignore everything that doesn't matter right then."

"Like your emotions?"

Goku cocked his head. "Not quite." The Earth's hero put a finger to his chin and looked off into the distance as he thought. "It like this. When you're fighting, you put everything that's not about the fight in a box inside your brain and close it. Then you won't get distracted by stuff that doesn't matter. Does that make sense?"

"I guess so." Gohan didn't have the heart to tell his father that he already knew this.

Fortunately, he wasn't the only one with vocal cords. "Goku, I've already taught him all of this." Piccolo announced. "There's no need to do it again."

"Oh." Goku paused for just a minute, thrown off. "Great." And that was it. No disappointment that he wouldn't need to pass his experience onto his son, no 'let's go over it, just in case,' just 'great.' One less thing to do. Maybe he had already put fatherly affection in his box.

"So what I want you to do, then," Goku went on, "is use the box for the whole time that we're training as well, okay? You should take training just as seriously as the actual battle."

"Right." Gohan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Clear his head. The problem was, he wasn't being distracted by anything, so there was nothing to put in the box.

Well, there was thing—one person—who could probably stand to go in there...

"Gohan?"

The boy started, slipping from the ledge and forcing himself into flight so he could spin and face the mountain. "Don't sneak up on me!"

Trunks raised his hands defensively, probably surprised at the aggression. "Sorry."

Letting out an indignant huff, Gohan floated over and sat back on the ledge, some feet from where the man now stood. Everyone else was now discussing something very seriously in the background, occasionally peering in their direction. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past ten. Listen, are you okay?"

What? He thought it had only felt like he'd been waiting forever. The stupid androids were late. Or maybe they just weren't coming here to this city, or just not today, or maybe it had been ten o'clock at night, or... "I'm fine."

"I-it's just..." Trunks sat down beside him. "You seem upset."

No kidding. They were about to stand between the Earth and the apocalypse, and Trunks thought he seemed upset. Not that it was coming as a surprise to Gohan that the man from the future didn't understand his feelings. That was obvious.

"I'm just worried about the battle."

"Don't be. You'll be fine." The older half-Saiyan put a hand on his shoulder.

Gohan shrugged it off and shifted over, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Not me. I'm worried about them." He was worried about himself too, of course. But he didn't need to be comforted right now. Not by him.

"They'll be..." Gohan waited to see if he would finish, but Trunks seemed to think better of the baseless promise he'd been about to make and just let the words hang there unsupported, like their legs swinging over the edge of the mountain.

An aircar came into his field of vision, flying high above the city. That was strange; they usually weren't allowed to fly so high up, because of the potential for accidents. And from where Gohan was sitting, it looked almost to be headed right towards them.

"So...is everything else okay?"

"Everything else what?" It was just that if it ran out of gas up there or something, the driver would fall a couple of miles to the ground and die. And why was it so high if it was going to the city? And if it wasn't going to the city, why a car and not an airplane?

"Just, you know...you. And..."

The aircar exploded. "Hey!" Gohan once again pushed off the ledge, hovering as he watched the doomed vehicle's remains fall in a wide circle, somehow landing in the ocean. The dust cloud was miles away, but he could distinctly make out the forms of two people lowering out of it to the city below. "It-it's them!"

"How?" The explosion and his shouting had attracted everyone's attention, and all the adults were now gathered behind him. "Why didn't we sense them?" Goku demanded of the air.

Gohan's brain went click as he realized what an idiot he'd been. "They're not people." His voice sounded far away as he spoke, like it was over there with the dissipating smoke in the air. "They're machines. We can't sense them." Why hadn't he known that? It was so obvious.

Silence reigned for a moment as the most powerful people on Earth realized that they'd just lost something they'd been counting on.

"Well, what are you all waiting here for?" Bulma cried. "All the superpowers in the world can't do anything up on the freaking mountain. Go find them!"

"Bulma's right." His father declared, having recovered himself. "If we can't sense them, we'll just have to look for them. Let's go." A chorus of agreement rang through the air, and a heavy hand fell on Gohan's shoulder. "Son, I need you to go find the driver of that car and see if they're alright."

"What? Dad, I—“ Three years of constant training for this, and now he was supposed to stay away from the fighting?

"Don't worry, Gohan. We'll be okay." Which the boy translated as 'You're in the way, Gohan. Let the grown-ups handle this.'

"Fine." It wasn't like there was any use in arguing with his dad. He was always right, after all. And there were more important things right now.

"I'll go with you." Heads turned and unasked questions filled the air at this declaration from Trunks. "Listen," he explained, before anyone could bombard him, "they know who all of you are. But they don't—at least these androids don't—know me. If I'm not there when the fight starts, maybe I can get one by surprise and take it out."

Everyone seemed to contemplate this radical—and, to Gohan, obviously spur of the moment—strategy. Was he the only person in the group with a brain? Did nobody else see that Trunks just wanted to follow him? Creep. "I don't need your help." He powered away from the mountain before anyone could respond, headed towards the ocean and the only thing he was apparently qualified to do. Because obviously he hadn't worked nearly as hard as everyone else.

The cold seared Gohan and the wind did its level best to slice him to pieces. He plummeted from the cliff and collided with the sheet of ice below, which had been frozen for so long that his impact created only the slightest of cracks in the surface.

The boy struggled to his feet, his breath coming in short gasps, as two figures floated down right in front of him. Hope warmed him from the inside as one of the two spoke. "Goku, I think that's enough for today. Gohan's too tired to take any more." If Piccolo was saying that, then he must look even worse than he felt.

"No, he's fine. You can go a little longer, right, Gohan?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Let's go." Because there really was nothing else to say to that. Not without having to endure disappointed looks from his dad at having not lived up to stratospheric expectations.

Goku's response to his son's bravado was, naturally, to lunge forward and punch the boy in the stomach.

Which, the half-Saiyan reflected as he lay curled up on the frozen ground, he should have expected. After all, his father's motto since they had started training last month had been 'pretend it's not training.' At the time, Gohan hadn't thought he'd be able to work his head around that, seeing Piccolo and his dad as the enemy.

But he was getting used to the idea now. Or at least to half of it.

Yes, he thought as he struggled to his feet, it was much easier than it had been to look at his father and see not a smiling, benevolent teacher, but a psychotic monster who needed to be destroyed. With a yell, the boy hurled himself at Goku.

Who grabbed him, spun around and slammed him into the cliff face. Gohan's hands went up in reflex at the hand pinning his throat, but he knew it was futile. He would get air when his father decided he would, and no sooner.

"You're thinking too much, Gohan. How do you expect to win a battle when I can read your moves on your face? This is what the box is for, son. Focus!"

Gohan struggled to clear his mind again even as his vision started to go blank, and he thought that at least if he passed out, he might get to rest for a while.

"Hey, slow down! Wait!"

"Yeah, I'm not going to do that." Gohan muttered quietly, speeding up and letting Trunks be drowned out by the wind in his ears.

"Gohan!" The idiot went and drew up beside him anyway. Like a piece of grass couldn't see that he wasn't wanted. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing you can fix. Forget about it." It had been easy enough for the time traveler to do that the first time, after all. Crossing over the coast, Gohan kept his eyes out for anything in the water.

"You can still talk to me about it. Maybe I can help you feel better." It wasn't hard, actually. The ruined car was still smoking.

"You can stop pretending you care how I feel, Trunks." There. Against all probability, there was a person struggling to stay afloat down there among the wreckage. Gohan dropped his altitude. All he had to do was toss the guy on the beach and then he could go help everyone.

"What? Hey, Gohan!"

I know that guy. The half-Saiyan thought as he approached the flailing former driver. "Yajirobe? What are you doing here?"

"Drowning, that's what I'm doing! Stop staring and help me!" His dad's friend shouted wetly, trying to keep water out of his mouth and failing.

"Oh, right." Gohan lowered down further and let Yajirobe seize his arms, and with a bit of effort pulled the big man out of the water. "You know, it's really not safe for you to be here right now."

"I know that!" As always, the word 'idiot' was generally implied at the end of most of Yajirobe's sentences. "Korin made me come and give you guys these Senzu beans, but this old guy appeared out of nowhere and bam! There went my car."

"Old guy?" Trunks echoed as Gohan got a better grip and started back towards the mountain. He wouldn't be able to get away with dropping Yajirobe on the beach, sadly. Bulma would have to deal with him. Trunks kept talking. "What do you mean, old guy?"

"Exactly that, you...Hey Gohan, who is this guy?"

"Just someone who's helping us fight the androids." He answered vaguely. Something was distracting him. He could feel the energy of his dad and everyone, all gathered in the same place. It wasn't hard to guess why. But something was wrong...

"My name's Trunks." He sounded sort of hurt, but Gohan didn't care. That energy level...it wasn't right. Shouldn't it be higher? "I know what the androids look like, and that isn't it."

"Well, whatever, Trunks." Yajirobe sounded like he was putting air quotes around the name. "It was this old man with crazy big hair, and a fat dude who looked like a doll."

"But..."

One of the energies was shrinking, that was what it was. Just as Gohan realized this, it all but winked out. "Somebody's dying." He surged forward, leaving Trunks in his wake and setting Yajirobe yelling indignantly.

Who was it? It couldn't be his dad or Piccolo. That wasn't just childish disbelief; he knew them well enough to be able to pick them out of the crowd, so to speak. No, this was one of the others, Krillin, Yamcha or Tien. Somebody had been assigned to carry whomever was wounded away from the battlefield. Gohan could feel them rising from the city and start off in the same direction as he. He sped up.

They arrived at the mountain at the same time, he dangling the hollering Yajirobe and Krillin, supporting a half-conscious Yamcha. Even from some feet of distance, Gohan could see blood running down the taller man's front. Far too much blood. He dropped Yajirobe as he landed and ran over to the wounded man. "Oh, my goodness. What happened?"

"They got him." Krillin's voice shook as he allowed Gohan to help him lay his friend gently on the ground. "He found them first and they got him."

"Idiot." This was Bulma, who had delayed only to lay baby Trunks on a blanket some distance away from her ex-boyfriend. "You should know better than to try and fight them by yourself, you dummy." Tears collected in her eyes and fell, despite how hard she tried to keep them back. She might have a baby with another man, but some part of her still felt for Yamcha, apparently.

Just then did Gohan remember his passenger. "Senzu beans! Yajirobe, bring the Senzu beans over here!"

"Like I didn't already think of that." The big man said from right behind him. "I'm not stupid, you know. Here." He fished a small bag from inside his shirt and tossed it at Krillin, who shakily opened it and pulled out one of the life-giving beans.

"I don't get it; what's going on?" Trunks asked. "What are these beans all about?" Since he was just standing there being useless, Gohan ignored him. His heart was running a marathon in his chest as the bean passed Yamcha's lips and Krillin and Bulma gently coaxed him to swallow it; then for that one protracted minute, as always, nothing happened, until everyone was sure that the bean wasn't going to work, or that it was too late...

Yamcha coughed, and then inhaled deeply. The wound started to heal instantly, which was actually pretty gross and not something Gohan ever wanted to see again. But within seconds their friend was sitting up and staring down at his hands like he had never seen them before. "Man." Was all he said for a minute.

"Yamcha!" Bulma threw herself at the newly healed man, with enough force that Gohan was worried about reinjury. "I was so worried. You're such an idiot. Why didn't you wait for Goku?"

"Because I...I didn't. It happened so fast, and I...Gohan!" The boy started as Yamcha's attention shifted to him. "We've got to tell your dad and the others! The androids! They can...I don't know, steal your energy, or something!"

"What?" Trunks sounded more shocked than horrified by this notion, but neither should be coming as a surprise. Had he not paid any attention during all the time he'd been fighting the androids? Why hadn't he mentioned this? If he wasn't going to tell them things that were important, what was the point of his being here at all?

"Yeah, it was crazy. All he did was grab me, and it just felt like all the energy was running out of my body into his hand. It was like dying." As an afterthought, he added, "Again."

"We've got to go warn you dad, Gohan." Krillin said, standing. Gohan nodded. "Yamcha, you should stay here and rest for a bit. Come find us when you're recovered."

"No way." He pushed everyone's hands aside and stood as well. "I'm coming. I'm not gonna let a little thing like death get in the way of helping my friends."

"Yamcha!" Bulma cried. Gohan wondered vaguely if Trunks was being made uncomfortable by his mother's attention towards someone other than his father. "Stay here and rest for a couple of minutes before you run off and start fighting again!"

"No, Bulma. You know I can't do that. This is too important for me to stay in the back being scared." And he was scared, Gohan saw, his fists balled and trembling at his sides. But he was going to do it anyway.

"Hey! What about me? I like you guys, but I have better things to do than hang around here all day."

"Sorry, Yajirobe." Krillin said. "We don't have time to take you home right now. You'll have to stay here with Bulma for a little while."

"Now hold on!"

Gohan sighed and wandered to the edge of the mountain again staring out at the city. Why couldn't anything just get done? Why did there always have to be so much discussion before the simplest decision could be made?

And because he was so uninterested in the adults' conversation, Gohan was able to check of yet another thing on the list of events a child should never have to see.

It looked like the beginning of the end of the world.

---

Chaiotzu floated with his hands behind his head, staring blankly up at the ceiling of Master Roshi's island home, cursing his best friend with as more venom than he had been aware he was capable of.

Stupid Tien. Big jerk. I hope you get beat up. Okay, so he wasn't really all that venomous a person. But still. He didn't think his friend could hear him, but hopefully Tien was getting a telepathic sense of how upset Chaiotzu was. And I hope it gives you a headache, too.

It was just...why did he have to be so mean about it? Chaiotzu knew he wasn't the strongest guy around, but why did it have to be 'you'll just be in the way?' Why couldn't Tien have just said 'I'm worried you'll get hurt?' They both knew it was the truth.

But of course he couldn't. Because as far as he was concerned, the best thing for a warrior to feel was nothing. Heavens forbid should he show anything as human as affection for his oldest friend...

"Hey, Chaiotzu! You should come and watch this! It'll take your mind off of things!"

The little man glanced at the television that was so commanding Master Roshi's attention and that of Oolong before rolling his eyes and continuing his study of the ceiling. Tien—and everyone else—could be getting hurt or killed today, and all they could think about was pretty women in tight clothes. He wondered if anyone even watched that show for exercise purposes that weren't related to just one hand or the other.

He had never been interested in women—which was good, since the feeling seemed to be mutual—he was good as long as he had Tien. Chaiotzu wondered idly if he would want to watch that show if Tien was in it. The idea brought in involuntary giggle forth, as well as an involuntary thought. Probably. Oops. Hopefully his friend hadn't gotten wind of that sentiment either.

Just as Chaiotzu realized he had forgotten to be mad for a few minutes, the sounds coming out of the television changed. The sleazy 'exercise' music vanished and so did the artificially high voice of the 'instructor,' replaced by that beeping noise that news stations make when they wanted people to pay attention.

"Hey, what happened to my show?" Roshi demanded, sitting upright for the first time in an hour and glaring at the television. Chaiotzu floated lower and turned to see what was happening.

"Breaking news!" The man on the screen announced, even as those very words splashed across the bottom of the screen. "A huge series of explosions has rocked a small island city off the coast of South City!"

The room went cemetarily silent. Chaiotzu floated closer to the television, likely obscuring someone's view. He didn't care.

"It is unknown what caused the disaster," The newscaster continued as film of the destruction began rolling on the screen, showing a burning city from the air. "But emergency personnel are doing their best to contain the damage. Preliminary estimates for how many lives may have already been lost range..."

"Tien..." You big dummy, why'd you have to go by yourself? If you get hurt again, I'll... The thing about being telepathically linked was that sometimes it was hard to tell which emotions belonged to who. So was it really him who was so scared he wanted to curl up and disappear, or was it Tien?

---

"Jeez, Trunks, what'd you do to the kid?" Krillin asked, watching the disappearing form of Gohan.

"I'll let you know." He had been mid-sentence, an assurance that the boy's father would be alright, when Gohan had just leapt from the cliff and flown off after the retreating energies. "If he ever tells me."

What exactly was Gohan's problem? Everything had been fine when he'd left, but now he was 'pretending' to care how the younger felt? And he was 'just someone who was helping them fight the androids?' What had he done to earn himself this kind of treatment? Nothing, since Gohan hadn't seen him in three years.

"Hey, guys, I really don't think it's a good idea to let the kid be out there by himself. If one of those androids get a hold of him..." Yamcha didn't need to finish the sentence. Trunks wouldn't have heard it anyway; he was already racing after the other half-Saiyan.

It actually didn't take him any time at all to catch up; Gohan had stopped. He was hovering right above the demolished portion of the city, watching it burn. "We were supposed to stop this." He muttered to himself, before rounding on Trunks with that inexplicable anger again. "How come we couldn't stop this?"

Perhaps that was the problem. It was just stress about the whole situation. Gohan wasn't really upset with him, it just seemed that way. "We still can."

"Tell that to them!" He waved an arm fiercely at what had used to be a peaceful city, and to accentuate his shout a great explosion went off just below them. Gohan turned and Trunks peered around him.

Something had happened to one of the almost destroyed buildings, and now the top half was about to topple. Onto all of the fleeing people in the street.

"No!" And Gohan was gone, streaking down to be between the falling masonry and the soon-to-be pancaked citizens. The largest piece of building fell on him and slowed, though it seemed the boy wasn't enough to keep it from falling entirely.

It took Trunks a second to process what had happened and to fly down and lend his shoulders. Gohan was immediately gone, leaving him to hold the—really, really heavy—slab of apartments by himself. Gohan was expecting him to do it though, and Trunks had indoctrinated himself with an aversion to disappointing his teacher. The young half-Saiyan carried, pushed and shooed everyone out of the way and then glanced up at Trunks, just in time for the time traveler’s load to break in two and fall down on either side of him anyway.

And in between the two pieces of former building, the unmistakable form of a person plummeted down.

Again Trunks reacted too slowly; by the time he'd moved, the impact had happened and everything was dust and noise. Whomever it was was gone, buried. Coughing and trembling, he lifted out of the cloud.

Coming up beside Gohan, who was holding the little girl he had seen, not much older than his baby self and crying. Without even looking at Trunks, he floated down to the ground. A hysterical woman appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and the girl was handed off.

Krillin and Yamcha arrived just as Gohan returned to the air, shooting another fiery glare at Trunks. "I'm going to stay here." He announced. "Someone should help these guys. You go help my dad."

How very like him. Noble and sincerely wanting to help people. It wasn't hard to remember why Trunks had fallen in love with him in the first place. The other two men were nodding, and he said, "I'll stay with you."

"No." The answer was immediate and sharp. "You go fight. You're stronger than me anyway."

"I'm not..." His brain caught up and he realized that was true here. Trunks made sure to remember that. Gohan wouldn't be able to pull him out of it if he got in trouble, it would have to be the other way around. Trunks badly wanted to consider this more, but he had a sentence to finish. "...leaving you by yourself, Gohan."

It was spoken so quietly that Trunks doubted either of the other two heard it, but the reply didn't escape his ears. "Didn't stop you before."

"What?" It sounded like there was pain behind that, but Trunks had no idea what he was talking about. What was going on?

A sudden spike in energy—it had to be Goku, nobody else could get that powerful that fast—distracted everyone from the conversation, Gohan in particular whipping around to face it.

"Looks like your dad went Super Saiyan, kiddo. Nothing to worry about now."

"Unless those androids suck out all of his energy." Yamcha added.

"Yamcha! Are you trying to scare the kid?"

This was a good place to jump in and ask what that was all about. Stealing energy? The androids couldn't do that. There hadn't been a chance to ask before, but now was as good a time as any. "Yamcha..."

"Something's wrong." It was really amazing how Gohan had the ability to draw his attention like that. He didn't have to yell or say anything shocking, he just had to open his mouth and Trunks would listen to him. "Something's wrong with my dad."

"What?" Goku's power, so similar to Gohan's in feel, had stopped growing as the Super Saiyan finished his transformation. Everything seemed fine to Trunks. "What are you talking about, Gohan?"

"He's...he should be stronger than that."

"What are you talking about, Gohan?" Krillin echoed. "He's just as strong as ever. Stronger, even."

This earned the bald man an annoyed flick of Gohan's eyes. Trunks was glad; at least that time it wasn't directed at him. "Something's just...something's wrong." And he was gone, the burning city forgotten in the boy's concern for his father.

It didn't even bear mentioning that Trunks followed him right away, leaving the two full humans to keep up as best they could.

Trunks was a very astute person, so he recognized that Gohan didn't want to talk right now and kept quiet as they sped to the scene of the battle. He did, however, stay as close to the boy as he could, thinking the proximity would comfort Gohan and assuage some of his worry. Unfortunately, the other half-Saiyan was too focused on his destination to notice; he just kept staring straight ahead the whole time.

In the uncomfortable minutes that passed as they flew, Trunks realized what Gohan had already declared. Something was wrong with Goku. His energy was starting to diminish in fits, as though he were getting tired, but worse at intervals. It was strange. Every time Goku’s energy dropped, Gohan poured on even more speed, forcing Trunks to match him or be left behind.

They arrived, Gohan touching the ground with a remarkable lightness that didn't betray his haste at all but then running to Piccolo’s side. "What's wrong with him?" No preamble, but then, this wasn't really the time for pleasantries.

For once, Trunks didn't hang on to every word of Gohan's conversation. He checked around the area, looking for the androids. Piccolo, Tien, some old guy standing in between them and the fight (who the hell?) and Goku in the air, fighting against...

What the fuck?

That was not one of the androids. In fact, Seventeen and Eighteen didn't even seem to be around. "Where are the androids? What's going on?"

"Uh...right here?" Tien asked, gesturing widely at the battlefield. Yamcha and Krillin finally caught up, landing right behind the three-eyed man and giving Trunks strange looks.

"No." Trunks shook his head. This was all wrong. "This isn't them. These aren't the androids I've been fighting."

"What?" Several people asked this at once. Trunks couldn't tell if Gohan was one of them, but he didn't think so. He was still watching his dad like he was expecting him to fall out of the sky.

"Hey." Trunks addressed the old man. "Who are you?"

"I could ask the same of you, young man. I have no record of you in my databanks." It was strange how he moved, namely in that he didn't. Nobody could stand that still; it was almost...robotic.

"Are you an android?"

"I am Android Twenty."

Twenty? "What? What about Seventeen and Eighteen?"

Now the old guy moved, though just his face, as everything seemed to expand in his obvious shock. "How do you know about them? Tell me!"

Goku chose that moment to interrupt their conversation by falling out of the sky. "Dad!" Gohan raced forward, and Android Twenty moved to intercept. But Trunks was there, grabbing the geriatric machine's arm and spinning him away from the boy.

Everyone else seemed hesitant to move, so he called, "Guys, go help Goku. I'll handle this guy." If the strength with which Twenty was trying to tug his arm away was any indication, he wasn't nearly as powerful as the androids Trunks knew.

"Handle me, will you? Very well, boy. Do your best." Twenty broke free of his grip and kicked him in the jaw, lunging at him with an intensity that Trunks had never seen Eighteen or Seventeen use. He was stronger, but it was everything he could do to keep the old guy off of him.

Vegeta arrived at that moment, giving some scornful speech about Goku's lack of power while Gohan glared earthquakes at him. Trunks would have liked to said something to his father, anything, but Twenty wasn't distracted by the Saiyan prince and he couldn't afford to be either.

Yamcha lifted Goku into the air and carried him away, and they all stood there and watched as Vegeta started to holler as he powered up. Only when his father broached the barrier of Super Saiyan did Twenty take notice of him, though it was just to dismiss Vegeta with a snort. The fat, clownlike android the prince was facing seemed even less impressed.

Stopping to snort was enough opening for Trunks, who connected a punch to the metal ribcage and sent the old man flying. He drew his sword and flew after him. Trunks swung, and Twenty dodged to the left with a nimbleness that was the envy of people a third his age and grabbed the time traveler’s wrist. "You are very strong."

Suddenly Trunks didn't feel it. All the strength left his hand and he dropped the sword, and the rest of his body felt like following suit. Only then did he remember what Yamcha had been saying about them stealing energy. Oh, shit.

"Now, tell me how you knew about Androids Seventeen and Eighteen, boy. They have never left my lab, so how did you learn of them?"

His lab? Something didn't add up. "Go to Hell." It took every ounce of strength he had, but he managed to pull the android forward and headbutt him in the chest, ducking under the crouching form and seizing his weapon. He swung wildly, and Twenty was forced to let him go or lose a limb.

Trunks sprung back, landing just beside where Gohan and the others were watching the fights. What was it with these people and one-on-one battles? They had numbers but didn't use them.

Twenty was advancing on him, but Trunks took this opportunity to ask his question anyway. "Gohan, what's wrong with your dad?"

He was only looking at the boy out of the corner of his eye, which was good, since he would have turned to stone had he caught the full strength of the glare that he received. "It's the heart virus. You said it was supposed to happen last year."

"It was!" What the fuck was going on here? Different androids, the virus coming at the wrong time; how could his mother have been so wrong about everything?

Vegeta powered up even more off to the side of him, and the other android made a shocked sound. Trunks had to admit, he was surprised himself. He hadn't known his father had been that powerful. The second android—Nineteen? Twenty-One?—was seized by the wrists--severed, Trunks noticed vaguely--and was pushed back to the edge of the crater they were standing in. It was shrieking.

Twenty rushed him again, and suddenly Trunks was aware of who was standing beside him. If Gohan ended up getting hurt...He rushed right back at the android, sword held level at his hip.

There was shockingly little resistance as the blade passed through the artificial body, separating top from bottom. Android Twenty's torso reversed direction and went back, and the legs just fell to the ground, dead. "You! How dare—"

Android Nineteen or Twenty-One cut him off by rather rudely exploding into a zillion pieces at the end of one of Vegeta's energy attacks. Hope surged inside Trunks. Maybe if they could eliminate these two and stop Seventeen and Eighteen from being activated, everything could be put right!

"No..." Twenty sounded utterly defeated. "How? You should not have been nearly powerful enough to do this..."

"But we were." Piccolo intoned, advancing on the remaining quarter of the android duo. "You lose, android. Guess Dr. Gero didn't do a very good job designing you, did he?"

Fury coloured the parchment face of Android Twenty, and his eyes flicked to the sky for just the barest instant before it turned to what Trunks could only call triumphant resignation. "Very well. I didn't want to have to resort to this, but I shall have to activate them after all."

Trunks went cold. "No!" He lunged, and the android attacked. Not him, but the ground, his energy tearing into a great swath of earth and sending it skyward, filling everyone's vision with dust.

Only one thing occurred to Trunks. "Gohan!" He turned and saw the small form of the boy, leaping into the air and rushing off to reach... what? Trunks followed him, emerging from the dust cloud just in time to see his mother falling to her death.

Super speed came in handy in situations like this; Trunks was underneath Bulma before she dropped another inch. She landed in his arms with a scream and immediately pushed down. "My son. Where's Trunks?"

"Here, Bulma." Gohan landed beside them, with baby Trunks laughing in his arms. At least someone had enjoyed that. "I'm sorry, I couldn't reach both of you."

"It's okay, sweetie. I'd much rather Trunks was safe than me." She took the baby from Gohan and inspected him. "Besides, this big strong man here caught me. I knew someone would."

Trunks blushed a bit and was going to say it was not big deal, but he was interrupted by Krillin's approaching voice. "Bulma, what are you doing here? It's dangerous, you know."

"I just wanted to see the androids everyone was so scared of." She said defensively. "I was just going to look and then leave. How was I supposed to know my car was going to get blown up?"

"I coulda told you that, dummy." Yajirobe emerged over a pile of rocks, looking distinctly worse for wear. "Thanks for all the help, guys."

The dust cloud had vanished by now, and Android Twenty was gone. Trunks glanced at Piccolo, the last to emerge, who shook his head. He had gotten away.

"But guys, what's the deal here?" Bulma asked suddenly. "I thought you were supposed to be fighting androids. Why was Dr. Gero here?"

...What?

---

Curses! How could everything have gone so wrong? Gero considered himself to be the smartest man on the planet, so it was no small feat to leave him utterly uncomprehending of what was going on.

Not only had both Goku and Vegeta been far stronger than they had any right to be, even allowing for growth since he had stopped monitoring them, but how had someone as strong as that young man escaped his notice until now? He knew about Seventeen and Eighteen, as well. That made him angrier than the fact that the boy had removed his legs. Limbs could be rebuilt; secrets could not be hidden again once exposed.

They were coming after him, according to his sensors. He had no choice now, he was going to have to activate the two of them after all. But he had to hurry. That had been Bulma Briefs in that aircar he had attacked. If her father had told her the location of his lab...if she survived the fall, if, if, if! Too many unknowns. How was he supposed to accomplish anything with no facts at his disposal?

Nevertheless, Gero had the advantage. He was the only one who knew the exact location of his lab, after all, and they could not detect his energy as he could theirs. All he had to do was escape their notice and reach the northern mountains first. And then hope that Seventeen and Eighteen would function properly long enough to destroy them all.

A small signal behind his eye alerted him to the fact that Vegeta's energy was rising. Some extra power wouldn't hurt Gero in his race to the lab. He floated to an opportune spot and waited. Sure enough, the Saiyan prince let out a blast of energy that would decimate all cover for miles.

Gero swooped out of hiding and activated his energy absorption subroutine. The blast recharged his supplies and then some; he felt stronger than ever.

Not that it mattered, since he was half a body and they were more numerous and stronger than he.

A plan occurred to Gero just then, after he had hidden himself safely again. He had already assured the element of surprise. If he could just remove a few of his hunters from the picture...

He took a moment to scope out their relative positions to himself. Vegeta, Krillin, Tien, Gohan, Piccolo, and the new boy...all were easily within his grasp and had separated to look for him, making them all easy targets.

Now, who to negate first?

---

Eventually, of course, it just became easier to leave the box closed all the time, rather than go through the whole process at the end of every day of acknowledging all of his emotions again, when he was just going to pack them away the next morning.

Everything was so much easier that way, anyway. No wonder his dad did it all the time. It was so simple to concentrate on training, on studying, on everything, when he didn't have to worry about how scared he was about the world ending, or about Trunks being a big jerk, or about his dad forgetting to treat him like a son instead of a student all the time... Just making the tiny effort not to think about all of those things made his life so much easier.

Of course, Gohan wasn't stupid. He knew that eventually he would have to worry about some of it. He planned on waiting until after the androids were gone. Three years was a long way away, he would have grown up a lot by then. All the stuff he didn't know how to deal with now would be easier to understand when he was older, for sure...

"What an idiot." Gohan muttered to the rocks as he peered all around for the android torso. "How stupid can a person be?"

Gohan had made a vow, as Trunks had been going on earlier about how dangerous the androids were as if everyone but Vegeta didn't already know, that if he ever had to go back into the past to save the world from a catastrophe, he would do it properly. Simple things like getting dates and times right. Like remembering to actually tell people what the threat looked like. Like not tricking the innocent children of the past into...

"Idiot."

How hard could it be to find half of a floating old man? It wasn't like he could move that fast and they weren’t exactly a common species. Leaping from one cliff to a lower one, he looked around again. Everyone's energy was remaining consistent, so nobody else had found him either.

"Come on..." He wanted to get this over with so he could go home and see his dad. Was he okay? He had the medicine, sure, but stupid Trunks had been wrong about everything else, so how could they be sure the pills would work? He knew he couldn't do anything, but he wanted to be there.

He wondered if Bulma and baby Trunks were okay. They had sort of left them in the middle of nowhere with Yajirobe in the haste to find Dr. Gero. Somebody would have to be sure to take them home after. Trunks could do it. Even he shouldn't have been able to screw that up.

Run, jump, fly, land. Another cliff. No android. Shade, though, which was nice. It was hot out. Gohan lingered for perhaps a moment longer than he necessarily needed to.

He felt a wind on his back, which was also welcome. But, hold on. His back was to the cliff face. And there was no wind. Stupid! There was someone...

Hands wrapped around him, one covering his mouth and the other clutching his heart. "I do hope you didn't need all this extra energy, young man."

No! He felt the strength leaving his body like water running down a hill. It became a struggle to stand. Help me! Piccolo was telepathic, right? Maybe he would hear.

Keeping his eyes open was too hard, so he closed them. He couldn't think too hard over the malevolent chuckling of Trunks. No, wait. Dr. Gero, Android Twenty. He wished his dad would let him go, so he could...Oh, yeah. Again, the old man.

Dad...Piccolo...Krillin...Please, someone...help me...Trunks...

---
End
---


See?

Now, the next chapter is started, but...yeah. Anyway, hopefully it won't be too long.