His teacher

Hi! I'm back.

Veronica: Lol, I keep meaning to listen to that song and keep forgetting to make the time. I'll take your word for it for now. So glad you like. :)

YaoiBatman: Here you go! The wait is over and the next wait begins, lol. Glad you're enjoying.

Isis: No worries about not reviewing--you're rectified it. I'm happy you pointed out my writing style--using that 'tone' is my favourite part of writing narrative. But, about that happily ever after...yeah, you may have to wait a bit for that one.


So, this chapter would have been up two weeks ago, only my computer died and I had to rewrite the whole chapter. Gah. And on that note, I must give great thanks to Veronica for pre-reading it for me. It would have been another week's worth of editing if she hadn't assured me it was good and helped with the parts that weren't. Thanks, love.


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Chapter 4: Father
---

Trunks was not used to hunting. For his entire life, he'd been the one hunted, chased, scared. He had never had to look for his enemies; they had always found him. And he had certainly never had to search a desert for someone who was supposed to be dead.

Gero. He was supposed to be a corpse by now, killed as a result of his own evil. Had he really gotten that much bad information from Bulma, or had everything somehow gotten messed up of its own accord? Gero alive, and an android, no less, Seventeen and Eighteen not even active, Goku not having had the heart virus until now, Gohan being...

Okay, well, Gohan's bizarre behaviour was probably just a bad combination of stress and prepubescent hormones, or something. There wasn't really much else that could be causing him to act so strangely, at least not that Trunks could see.

The time traveler shook his head as he realized he had just once again turned something unrelated into a train of thought about the other half-Saiyan. Everything always seemed to come back to Gohan, with him. He wished that they could have a few minutes' break so that they could just sit and talk for a bit, or...

Focus. There would be plenty enough time to fantasize, and hopefully act on some fantasies, later. After they killed the old guy and dismantled the other two before they could so much as squish an ant. After all the anxiety over this, Trunks was having a hard time believing that it would all be so easy.

If only they could find him! Trunks wanted badly to just blast everything to pieces like Vegeta had tried, but obviously that wasn't the best idea. But still, tempting...

His father, though. There was something he hadn't expected. He had known that Vegeta would be headstrong and confident, or as his mother had put it, 'bone-headed and painfully arrogant,' but he hadn't expected him to be so, well, bone-headed and painfully arrogant. He wanted the androids to be active. Wanted it! So he could test his strength against them! It was madness. For that reason alone Trunks had to find Gero first, lest Vegeta do something stupid and end up destroying civilization.

Truthfully, this whole venture was stupid. Rather than looking for Gero, they should just be headed for North City, for the lab. Trunks, Gohan and the other warriors could move much faster than one legless relic. But none of the adults of the past had any common sense, apparently.

Something was suddenly off in his consciousness, as though the equilibrium of the world had shifted. It took Trunks all of half a second to realize what it was. "Gohan!" His energy, of which Trunks was always peripherally aware, had dropped, and was still dropping, to the point where it was about to vanish. Before his conscious mind could react, he was racing towards where the love of his life was dying, to where the worst of his nightmares was being acted out. Again.

Everything in his vision darkened as he flew the short distance to where Gohan was, and the air grew cold. He could almost feel the rain pelting him again, see the demolished city underneath him as the desert vanished and...If he could just fly faster, he might get there in time, might be able to save him. In his mind he knew it was too late; he could sense nothing, but still he reassured himself with that. Gohan was around here somewhere, he knew. Had to be alive still, he was Gohan. There wasn't anything...

There. The sight that, for him, destroyed the world.

He wouldn't let it happen again. Just couldn't.

Gohan was hanging limply in the arms of Dr. Gero, who seemed completely absorbed—at any other time, he might have found the pun funny—in what he was doing. In the slow murder of the only hope the Earth had, draining his energy and life like a mechanical vampire.

Trunks felt his Super Saiyan energy wrap around him like a raincoat and flew down, drawing his sword. Gero didn't notice him until it was too late; he didn't even get a chance to let go of Gohan before Trunks was upon him. The arm holding the boy up was cleanly sliced off with a yell, and only then did Gero manage to move his geriatric hardware back, dropping Gohan to the ground. "You!"

The time traveler dropped to his knees and caught the young half-Saiyan with his free arm, ignoring the android. All he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. Other than that, there was nothing, Gohan wasn't...no. There was a breath, and another one. He was still alive. Barely.

“It’s okay. You're alright now, Gohan. I promise. It's okay. Everything's fine." He really hoped he was more convincing than he sounded, though Gohan made no indication that he'd heard in any case.

The other warriors arrived just as Gero made for the air; the nonagenarian menace ended up surrounded. Trunks didn't pay them all that much attention. "Come on, Gohan. Open your eyes. You're okay now. Come on." Still Gohan didn't respond.

"Senzu beans!" Of course. Why had it taken him so long to remember? "Krillin, Gohan needs a Senzu bean!" He was so stupid. He could be forgiven for not remembering them before, it having been several years since he had encountered the magical legumes, but there was no excuse for such idiocy now. The one time he had ingested one, all of his energy had been restored in addition to his injuries being healed. Gohan just needed one, and he would be okay.

"Here, Trunks." The other men were all forming a human (and Saiyan) barrier around Piccolo and the android, who was being used as a cybernetic punching bag. Krillin tossed him down the whole bag and Trunks just barely managed to catch it in his one free hand. He fished one bean out and let the bag fall to the ground, wasting no more time than he already had in getting it through Gohan's lips.

"Come on, Gohan, here. Eat this." He just had to get it into his teacher's mouth. How hard could that be? It was just a little bean. Then everything would be okay. He really wished Gohan would breathe a little bit more than he was. "Just open your mouth..."

Gohan didn't want to eat the bean. For what psychological reason he felt it was something to be avoided Trunks didn't know, but the boy turned his head away from it, burying his face in the time traveler's coat. He was actually gripping the front of said coat with one hand, Trunks noticed vaguely. When had that happened?

Nice as the position would be in other circumstances, now it just made Trunks panic more. If he didn't eat it...Gohan was breathing again, and Trunks wished he would go back to what he'd been doing before. Now it was in short, fast gasps that made it sound like he was choking. "Come on, Gohan. I'm not going to hurt you. You know that. Come on..." He might as well have been speaking to, well, Gohan when he'd decided he didn't want to do something.

A tear fell onto Gohan's cheek like a raindrop, and Trunks tried to force himself not to shed more. Not yet. "Come on..." And miraculously, mercifully, whether finally understanding or just lacking the strength to further resist, Gohan parted his lips enough for the bean to be pushed through. "Thank you. Thank you." It was a struggle not to let it come out as a sob.

Gohan swallowed the bean—Trunks felt his throat to make sure—but didn't show any improvement. If anything, the boy clutched the front of the older half-Saiyan's coat harder, his breathing not changing at all. Only now he was crying. Trunks wrapped his arms around him and held tight. "It's okay, you're alright now. It's okay, Gohan." If only he could think of something more relevant to say. Piccolo hadn't let up on Gero at all; the android was not looking too happy.

In his lap, Gohan was shaking miserably as though cold. Still he cried, small sobs now interspersing the hiccoughing of his breath. "You're okay, Gohan. Everything, fine."

Something exploded right beside them, sending both flying. Trunks clutched Gohan hard after they landed to protect him from whatever else might be coming, but nothing did. There was a struggling underneath him as Gohan broke free of his bodily shield to stand, accidentally shoving Trunks out of the way in the process.

Task at hand, that was all. Gohan had always had incredible focus. Trunks knew he was grateful, but now wasn't the time for profuse thanks and such. Besides, he didn't need all of that stuff from Gohan; he knew how the boy felt. Still, some sort of acknowledgement would have been nice. He opened his mouth to ask Gohan if he was okay, but the younger was in the air and joining the group before the words could form. Trunks followed.

"What happened?"

"The old guy got you." Krillin answered. "Trunks stopped him."

"I know that." Gohan waved a dismissive hand. "I meant just now. Where is he?"

"Gone." Piccolo growled. "The explosion was a distraction. He got away."

Gohan cast a glance around the group. "Tien needs a Senzu bean." It was a general statement, spoken with no indication of whom it was aimed at. Trunks still knew it was at him. He went back and retrieved the bag of magic fruit and returned, tossing it at the three-eyed man, whose left arm was all burnt and bloody. Gero must have attacked him to get past.

"Thanks." Tien caught the bag, fished out a bean and threw it back, inadvertently tossing it astray with his injured arm. Gohan caught the bag and tucked it into his shirt.

"He can't have gotten that far." Piccolo announced. "We can still catch him."

"No." Enough was enough. These people were going to listen to reason if he had to pound it into their heads. "We know where the lab is. It's foolish to keep chasing after Gero when we can just get there first."

There was some exchanging of glances as if everyone were trying to decide what to do with him. Then Gohan spoke up. "It's true. It makes more sense to just get there before him." He was still breathing hard and it sounded like he was eating barbed wire when he spoke. Obviously the bean hadn't recovered all of his energy. But still, the fact that it was Gohan who first agreed with him made Trunks want to jump in childish pride.

"Alright." Piccolo declared. "Let's go, then. We can get there faster than he can, and there are more of us. Let's..."

"Cowards!" Vegeta announced over the Namek's instructions, rage colouring his face. "Cowards, all of you. I'll be no part of this idiocy. A real warrior does not hide from battle, but seeks it! You want to defeat your enemy while they are still asleep?" Trunks had never seen a sneer look so at home on anyone's face. "Cowards." He repeated. It seemed to be worst insult he knew. "I'll see those androids turned on so I can face them in an honest fight!"

"And you'll lose, Vegeta." Trunks said, rising up and moving in front of everyone else to be at a level with his father. "They're stronger than you. Stronger than you can even imagine. If they're activated, it will be the end of the world." Again.

The other man huffed. "You underestimate me, boy. I am a Super Saiyan! The strongest warrior in the universe. A mere toy does not stand a chance against the Prince of all Saiyans." He turned to leave.

"They're not toys! They're evil, merciless machines, and the only thing they're programmed to do is kill! None of us can stand up to them. It's impossible." Well, he didn't know that for sure, though it was a good bet. And better safe.

Another arrogant sniff. "If you're so worried, you can just stay here. Maybe another big hug will make you feel better."

Trunks felt his face heat up, and as well as sure he could feel Gohan's glare on his back. Oops. He started to come up with an explanation, which he had to throw out when Vegeta went to leave again. "Father, stop!" Damn. Why could he not keep a secret at all?

But Vegeta did stop, turning to look at Trunks with understanding growing on his face. "Of course." He said quietly as everything fell into place. "Yes, of course. A Super Saiyan. My son." And then the sneer returned. "How disappointing." And he was gone.
Two people. When he had come back to the past, there had been only two people who he really wanted to meet. Gohan and his father. And he wasn't able to get close to either of them. Which lead Trunks to the obvious question: What's wrong with me?

---

And to think, there had been a time in the design of his body when he had thought that putting explosives in his limbs would prove unnecessary. Sometimes Gero was just so smart that he even outwitted himself.

Self-congratulation aside, everything was ruined. That boy! All because of that unknown young man. He just waltzed in out of nowhere and started tearing Gero's carefully constructed plans—and limbs—to pieces. It was like...it was just like Goku had, all that time ago. Barging in on something he had no business involving himself in and destroying it out of pure childish spite.

And he knew about Seventeen and Eighteen. That was the worst part of what the boy had done; limbs could be rebuilt, but secrets could not be unspoken after they were revealed.

Well, he had no choice now. He would have to activate them and hope they functioned properly long enough to destroy his pursuers, specifically that boy. And then after that, Goku. In that, he still had the advantage. They may know the general area, but only Gero knew the exact location of the laboratory. It was well hidden; they could search forever and not find it.

Speaking of searching, there went Vegeta now, flying well above Gero in a futile attempt to get to the laboratory first. The thought that a being of such limited intelligence could ever hope to find what he had hidden so well almost made Gero laugh. Almost. Because it was entirely probable, based on his information about the Saiyan prince, that Vegeta would simply choose to destroy everything in sight if he got frustrated enough. And his calculations suggested that Vegeta was very close to his short frustration threshold already.

However, the files on Vegeta also suggested boundless pride. Perhaps that could be used as an advantage. Considering this new possibility, Gero sped north at the highest speed he could muster.

---

Poor Trunks. Gohan couldn't help but think as he watched the time traveler sag. Did Vegeta always have to be so mean? On the other hand, Trunks was a big jerk too, so he kind of deserved it. But still...

Gohan didn't know what to think. He kind of wished he hadn’t been so stupid earlier, grabbing onto his coat and crying like that. Besides the fact that it had been really embarrassing and Vegeta had noticed, it had likely sent Trunks entirely the wrong message.

"Alright." Piccolo announced, picking up where he'd left off. "Let's get going. There are still four of us; we have a better chance of finding it first." Four? Was Piccolo not counting Trunks either? But he answered Gohan's question before the boy could verbalize it. "Gohan, you go back at get Bulma."

"What? Piccolo!" That was just...why?

"Take her home, and Yajirobe too. And you check on Goku. I know you must be worried."

"I'm—" He bit off the word 'not' before he could say it. It wasn't that he wasn't worried about his dad, but...well, it was in the box right now. He didn't have time. Besides, he was more concerned for his mother, who would driving herself into hysteria by now. "I can help you."

"You're still recovering from being attacked. You're just going to get in the way if we have to protect you." Never one to mince words, Piccolo.

"I'm fine!" Sure, he was still having a hard time catching his breath, but that wasn't anything. His eyes and arms still worked. He didn't need anybody to take care of him. He wasn't a kid anymore.

"Gohan." The young half-Saiyan rounded on Trunks, all his fury building up for one strike against the older man. This was all his fault. But as soon as Trunks came into his centre of vision, something on his face stopped Gohan, anger dispersing around him like fog. "Please." That was all he said, just that one word. But it sounded like so many more.

He tried very hard to summon the anger again, throw it at Trunks, tell him where to shove it, but it wouldn't come. He opened his mouth to shout and all that came out was, "Okay."

Trunks looked visibly relieved, and Piccolo nodded. All the adults started off north and Gohan turned to go the other way. "Don't any of you die while I'm gone." He muttered as they separated.

He still thought they were making a bad decision. He was well aware that he wasn't the strongest one in the group, but sheer power wasn't everything.

"...The point is, you can't count on strength alone to help you win battles. You have to fight smart, too." Goku concluded as he finished the mostly accurate recounting of his fight with his brother several years ago.

Gohan didn't really think that was the best anecdote to have used to illustrate that point. Getting killed on purpose was fighting smart? No thanks, he would rather be alive. "Dad, I already know that. Piccolo taught me." There was no point, he'd learned, in keeping quiet about his past training. Piccolo would mentioned it if he didn't. Besides, he was getting tired of being lectured on things he already knew.

"Alright, good. Show me." Oh, he was supposed to display his cleverness right this very instant. Of course. But Goku lunged at him, leaving Gohan with no time to do anything smarter than move back to get out of the way of the punch, which went right through the air where his head had been.

Gohan vanished—to the human eye, anyway—and got behind his father; but before he could so much as throw a return punch Goku had turned around and grabbed his leg, slamming him into the ground so hard that it cracked and resting his knee on his son's chest. "You can do better than that, Gohan."

"Damn right." He muttered, surprising himself. Chi-Chi would eviscerate him if she found out he was using such language. But his mother was in the box right this minute; there wasn’t time to worry about that. Gohan gathered energy to his palms and sent it down into the earth. The explosion demolished the ground beneath him and sent up a massive cloud of dust that completely obscured all vision. But that wouldn't stop Goku.

Taking advantage of the now lower ground, Gohan got out from under his dad and leapt up, his body rotating in a midair summersault that ended with a kick to where Goku had been standing. Gohan felt his foot connect hard with something, but didn't stop to see what part of his dad it was, propelling himself higher, out of the cloud.

It was good, he reflected as he launched an energy beam into the cloud, that it was not still a few years ago, when he would have had to have charged energy for twenty minutes to unleash something like this. How in the world had they not all gotten killed every time they went to use an energy attack back then?

He kept his energy connected to the ground for what felt like forever, though the seeming perpetuity totalled less than a minute. Eventually he did have to stop, panting. It was something of an effort to keep himself afloat. Gohan drifted down to see what he'd done. Of course Goku wouldn't be seriously hurt; that was why he'd been comfortable launching the attack in the first place. He wasn't trying to kill anyone. But maybe his dad would at least...

Something hit him from behind as he neared the ground and Gohan was suddenly sprawled flat on his face. "Never use all of your energy in one attack unless you're sure it will work, Gohan. If you get stuck with no energy left, you're just a target and everyone else has to look out for you."

"Do not need them to look out for me." He grumped, though it came out as more of a pant. His breath should be returning any minute now. "I can take care of myself." Why he was bothering to complain now when it would do nothing he wasn't sure, because it wasn't like it was making him feel better. If only stupid Trunks hadn't given him a defective Senzu bean so he could have gotten all of his energy back, none of them would have had a leg to fly on when they'd ganged up on him like that. Jerks.

There were Yajirobe and Bulma down on the ground, predictably arguing. Gohan angled down to get them. He needed to get this over with as fast as he could so he could go back and help before anybody died.

---

Cutting the vegetables carefully, Chiaotzu tried to ignore the aching of his damaged fingers. The phantom pain that had suddenly shot down his arm a while ago had gone as quickly as it had appeared, but the damage that he'd done to himself out of shock remained to remind him, as if he needed a reminder, that everyone he knew and loved could die today.

He was making lunch to give himself something to do, because he couldn't watch the news talk about damage zones and casualties anymore. He liked to cook, and was actually pretty good at it. He had to be, since Tien dramatically wasn't. Chiaotzu laughed to himself at the sudden memory of the time his friend had given truth to that old joke by ruining cereal.

There was no fighting going on right now, Chiaotzu knew. But it wasn't over. Tien was feeling a distinct sense of purpose; he had something he needed to do. What exactly was beyond him, because his friend had closed off his end of their telepathic bond as tightly as he could. The only reason Chiaotzu knew what he did was because it was the one area where he had always been stronger than Tien.

Closing his eyes, Chiaotzu could almost feel the wind blowing on Tien's face as he raced towards whatever it was. It was getting steadily colder, and...that was all. He could probably push, find out some details, but he wouldn't invade Tien's privacy like that. And besides, it would do no good. He couldn't help from here.

He couldn't help from anywhere. That was why he was here. All he was was in the way. Chiaotzu tried to tell himself that he was okay with that, because he was safe here, and he'd never really liked fighting anyway. And those were both true, and yet...he was selfish enough to want to be with Tien anyway.

"You're such an idiot." Chiaotzu sighed. There was no point in spending all of his time thinking about it, though even realizing that fact wasn't going to stop him from doing it anyway.

So Chiaotzu floated there and worried, stared out the window and, because he could do nothing else, made soup.

---

Trunks seemed to be spending a lot of his time in the past chasing after people who were supposed to like him. "Father, stop!"

Shockingly, Vegeta chose not to comply. Letting out an irritated grunt, Trunks poured on as much speed as he could and planted himself in front of the Prince of all Saiyans. "I said stop!"

"And why should I listen to you, boy?" Vegeta challenged, but he did stop. "So I can hear you whine further about how dangerous these androids are and how we'll never be able to beat them? Like I have the time."

"Vegeta." Trunks took a deep breath before continuing. "Do you really want your son to grow up without ever knowing you? Your wife to have to raise him alone?"

His father snorted. "Wife? You think I would tie myself to that woman?" Trunks blinked. He had, but now that he thought about it, his mother had never actually said that she and Vegeta had been married. He had just assumed. "As for my son, even if I fail today, he will grow up knowing that his father died a hero. That I fell in battle, fighting to the last!"

"No, he won't! He'll grow up thinking that his father died for no reason, just like the rest of the world! He—and everyone else—died because he wasn't strong enough. That's what he'll think, trust me." This was a matter about which he had some pretty good inside information. Trunks had never thought much about his dad because he'd never met him. Gohan had been his father in all the ways that mattered.

"Then I suppose I will just have to stay alive, won't I?" Vegeta flew around him to leave off again.

"It's not that simple! Vegeta, you have to wait until Goku gets better." It was quite simply the only way they could survive. Goku was the only hope they had.

"Oh, do I?" Suddenly Vegeta sounded even more dangerous than he had. "And what am I to do until then? Run and hide? I don't know who trained you in my place, boy, but clearly he was a coward and a weakling."

"He wasn't!" Gohan. The strongest, bravest person Trunks had ever known. He was a hundred times the man Vegeta was on a bad day. Trunks felt his body move before he could think about it, jumping to defend his teacher's honour.

It only occurred to him when he was close enough to breathe on Vegeta that he'd been baited. His father's fist connected hard with his stomach and Trunks doubled over, trying to remember how to make his lungs work. "You," Vegeta sneered before pulling away, "are not my son." And he was gone, leaving Trunks hanging in the sky by himself.

Coughing, Trunks righted himself and set off again after Vegeta. As he flew, he found himself thinking of something Bulma had told him before he had left for the past the first time. He had been worried about the grandfather paradox, a time traveller killing somebody they were descended from and thus stopping themselves from being born to kill that person, and so on. When he had voiced his concern, his mother had told him that it didn't apply to him because he would be creating an alternate timeline. Besides, this second time he’d come, he had already been born anyway.

Good thing. Because if it ended up coming down to a decision of letting the world be destroyed again or killing his father, there was little contest.

---

Something was pressing on his backside. And Gohan was pretty sure he knew what it was.

Yajirobe was riding on his back, and he was having a very hard time keeping from squirming around. The friction from this was causing an unfortunate natural reaction in the big man, which in turn was being inflicted on him. At least, Gohan hoped that was the reason.

"Um, Yajirobe..." He immediately regretted speaking. Now he would have to say something, and how was one to say it without it embarrassing both of them?

"What?" The man demanded, right in his ear since he was hanging on to Gohan's neck, challenge in his voice as if he knew what the boy's problem was. Well, he probably did. "Spit it out, kid. I don't have all day."

Actually he did. They were a couple of miles up above an ocean, so it wasn't like he could go anywhere. There was coastline in sight, but it was all forested cliffs with no signs of people living on them. "Uhh...do you think you could...um, sit still?" He felt himself heat up, but there was nothing to be done about it now. It was said. Gohan supposed that at least Yajirobe probably wouldn't want to broadcast what he was doing to the world, or at least to Bulma in Gohan's arms, either.

"Well, if you weren't such a midget, I'd have an easier time staying on!"

"Hey!" Bulma called up. "Yajirobe, shut up! It's not Gohan's fault you're so fat!"

"Yeah, and it's not my fault that you decided to do the midnight tango with His Royal Ego, either, but I'm still suffering for it!" When he realized what the man meant, Gohan heated up further, to the point where he was sure Bulma would notice. She had refused to ride on top because she couldn't hold onto Trunks and Gohan at the same time. That was why Yajirobe was up there, strangling him and...poking him.

"How dare you, you overfed walrus! This isn't a bar, you know! There are ladies and children present! Are you trying to traumatize poor Gohan?" Bulma kicked her legs and generally thrashed around until Gohan was afraid he would drop her or she would drop Trunks. Really, of all the things that Yajirobe was doing to him right this minute, one allusion to Bulma's sex life was perhaps the least traumatizing.

Yajirobe huffed heavily. "Yeesh. I feel so sorry for that kid. Between you and Prince PMS, you might as well reserve him a therapist now."

Gohan sighed, though neither noticed because, aside from the fact that they were arguing too loudly, it didn't sound all that different from how he was breathing anyway. He still hadn't quite gotten his breath back. This wasn't a very long trip, but boy, was it taking forever.

The one upside to his discomfort was that he couldn't worry about anything. Every time he tried to think about what was going on with everyone, reach out and sense them, Yajirobe would move again and he would get distracted. So it was a blessing in disguise. It was a really, really good disguise.

He tried really hard to ignore the two of them fighting, but the only thing he could focus on besides was Yajirobe and his...condition. It couldn't be that much farther, right?

"Psst, Gohan. Hey, I'm talking to you, shrimp!"

What Gohan wanted to say was something along the lines of, 'I can year you, your mouth is touching my ear.' But instead he just said, "What is it?"

"We need to land for a minute." He was whispering, though for what reason Gohan had no idea.

"Why?" Then the whole excursion would end up taking longer. Though he would have a few minutes without...

"Cause I gotta use the bathroom, that's why! You want me to do it all over you?"

"All right, all right." Selecting the closest point of coast that had more than two square feet of clear ground, Gohan made for it, Bulma muttering as he got closer that Yajirobe should be old enough to hold it in for a while.

Yajirobe scrambled down when they were still three feet from the ground, nearly taking Gohan's pants with him, and was off into the trees before Gohan's feet touched down. "I didn't know he could move that fast when he wasn't running away from something." Bulma observed.

The small clearing was on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Gohan wandered over to the edge and sat, swinging his legs over the side as he had been that morning on the mountain. Maybe the rest would normalize his breathing again. And now that he wasn't distracted, he could worry properly.

Casting his senses out, Gohan searched for his friends to check on them. He found Trunks first, and told himself it was just because the other half-Saiyan was the strongest. He was fine. Piccolo was fine, Krillin and Tien, and Vegeta too. There didn't seem to have been any more fighting yet. Not that there was much left for them to fight. A guy with one arm and not much else would pose no problem for them. If only they got to him before he turned on the other two, the ones Trunks were so scared of.

He didn't want to think about that, or about Trunks, so he started looking in another direction, towards his home. Not that checking on his dad would help any, but maybe he could get a sense of how he was doing.

But before he could find Goku, a hand fell on his shoulder. "Sweetie, since we're here, I'm going to use the ladies' tree. Do you mind watching Trunks for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Bulma." And she plunked Trunks down right beside him, apparently having enough confidence in his babysitting skills not to be worried that her son would plunge fifty feet to his death.

Of course, as soon as she was out of eyesight, the baby tried to do exactly that, crawling to the edge to peer over and then just not stopping. Gohan caught him and pulled him back from the edge. "No, Trunks. No jumping off cliffs until you're old enough to fly."

Trunks baby-glared at him and proceeded right back to the edge. Gohan pulled him away again. After the third attempt, Gohan picked him up and sat the baby firmly in his lap, arms wrapped around him to stop him from moving. Trunks squirmed for a moment until it was clear he wasn't getting loose. He never cried, though.

"I love you, you know." Hearing the words startled him, but Gohan realized they were true as soon as he'd spoken them. Trunks twisted to look up when he heard the voice. "I mean, I know we don't really know each other that well, but I do."

Trunks burbled.

"It's just the other you I'm not sure about." He continued after a minute. The baby freed an arm and reached up to start whacking Gohan's chin. "He's so...dumb. He just doesn't get anything. And he's such a jerk, leaving like that before. But it's just..." Baby Trunks had no idea what he was talking about, certainly, but his eyes were rapt as he watched Gohan. And tried to grab his lips when they moved.

"He's so scared all the time, Trunks. I can't stand it." That was the reason why he'd left when Trunks had asked him to. The unfettered fear that had been all over his face had just been too much. "It's just awful. I mean, what must have happened to him to make him so afraid?"

In an impressive feat of coordination, Trunks punched him in the nose.

"I don't want you to be scared like that, Trunks. I won't let you. You're going to grow up and be happy, even if I have to die for it."

"Look at you two, getting along so well." Gohan turned around at Bulma's hailing voice. She emerged from the trees and nearly tripped on a bush, but righted herself and strode over to pluck Trunks from Gohan's arms.

"I was telling him why he can't go over the edge of the cliff."

"Was he listening?" Bulma teased, but she didn't give him a chance to answer. "Trunks, you listen to Gohan. He's very smart; he knows what he's talking about.” Trunks made a spitting noise at her.

"I don't think he's paying attention."

"Of course he isn't. He's related to his father." Bulma cast an irritated glance at the forest. "What is it with men and bathrooms? Is he looking for a restaurant in there? We're on a schedule here."

"I'll go find him." Gohan headed off into the trees, following the wide path Yajirobe had cut through the undergrowth. It wasn't hard.

The path ran into the woods for such a long way that Gohan started to wonder if maybe Yajirobe had gone looking for something to eat. Why did he need to be this far away to pee? Was he that shy?

He finally spotted him, or parts of him, sitting on the other side of a tree. Sitting? Why? "Yajirobe?" Thinking that maybe he was hurt, Gohan quickened his step. "Yajirobe, are you okay?"

No, his arm was moving. He was obviously conscious, and if he was hurt, he'd undoubtedly be yelling. But he didn't answer. Gohan finally drew up to the tree and peered around. "Yajirobe?"

"Gah! Don't you know how to knock, you little peeping Tom?" Yajirobe's clothes were all undone and open, and his hands flew to cover himself as he shouted.

"What could I knock on?" Gohan didn't really see what the big deal was. He was a boy too, right? "What are you doing, Yajirobe? I thought you said you had to use the bathroom."

"I am! Now will you go away and let me finish?"

"Alright, but Bulma wants you to hurry up." Gohan turned slowly and headed away from the big man.

"You can tell Bulma to go...nevermind. I'll be done in two minutes." And so Gohan left, walking quickly to escape the sound of Yajirobe muttering darkly to himself.

The two minutes took five, and when he finally emerged from the woods after Gohan Bulma said, "You were certainly in there long enough. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." Yajirobe pointedly didn't look at Gohan. "Now let's go; some of us have stuff to do today."

Only as Yajirobe practically leapt on to his back and the boy became aware of his...less uncomfortable body condition and the odd scent surrounding him did it occur to Gohan what he had walked in on back there. Chi-Chi may have deemed him too young to know about such things, but he wasn't stupid. The speed with which his face heated up again nearly caused a fire.

"Yajirobe, what's wrong with you? Don't hold on so tight, Gohan's face is getting all red from you strangling him!"

That Bulma had noticed only made it worse. "No, it's okay, Bulma. I'm just warm." He managed, lifting into the air to grab her.

"You know, Gohan, you could leave him here. Nobody would care."

"Yeah, maybe. But at least they wouldn't be throwing a party like they would if you got left behind."

There was only one way to deal with this. Yajirobe went in the box. The arguing, the weight, all the uncomfortableness associated with the large man, packed away nicely where he didn't have to worry about it.

Gohan suddenly caught himself wondering if it was possible for a box that didn't really exist to get too full, and what would happen if it did.

---

"At last." The journey to the laboratory seemed to have taken far longer than Gero had anticipated. Perhaps his internal chronometer was damaged as well. He had come close to detection multiple times, and even now he could feel all of those cursed warriors circling overhead, but none of them had found the lab.

He crouched—an inappropriate word, since crouching required legs, yet Gero refused to think he was hiding—in a small patch of sparse trees fifty-six feet from the doors to safety. And vengeance. He had to wait for just a moment longer. Tien was flying just overhead at the moment, but even a third eye wasn't enough to help him see what was right under him.

Gero took a quick moment to check for the others. Yes, they were all far enough away for him to move. Krillin was close, but he posed little threat; Gero could easily handle him. The only one he couldn't seem to locate was Vegeta. The android took a few more moments and searched all around the area with his sensors, but could not identify the Saiyan prince as being anywhere within miles of the lab. He must have gotten lost on the way. Excellent. He emerged from the foliage.

Not ten paces—were he in any condition to be taking paces—from the trees, the proximity alarm behind his eye went off. Gero turned and saw Krillin coming over a rise. He had gotten that close just in the few minutes Gero had taken to scan for Vegeta? Damnation.

A hasty retreat was immediately ruled out as the bald man happened to glance in his direction, double-took and shouted. "Hey! It's him! I found—"

"Silence!" Gero sped towards the human as fast as his depleted reserves would allow and managed to get his hand over that fool mouth. "You will not ruin my plans." He began the energy absorption process.

But he only had one arm, so when Krillin seized it, swung his leg out and upwards and kicked Gero in the side, the genius had no choice but to fly helplessly of in one direction and crash into a boulder. Even him? Even Krillin was capable of defeating him? Gero must be weaker than he thought.

"Hey, I did it!" Krillin sounded as surprised at Gero felt. "Guys! Guys, he's here! I've got him!" His power began to rise, undoubtedly a signal to summon the rest of the vermin. Gero growled. He could do nothing.

A ball of energy hit Krillin in the back and he barely had time to appear shocked before falling to the ground, dead or unconscious. "What?" There should be nobody else near! Another scan of the immediate area revealed..."Vegeta!"

The Saiyan prince was standing on the cliff in front of the doors to the laboratory, sneering down at them both. And only then did Gero realize his error: He had scanned the area around the lab for the man, but not within a certain distance of himself. Vegeta had been close enough to escape under the radar, as it were. "Fool!" Gero cursed himself. He should have known better.

"Are you just going to lay there?" Vegeta called down. "Or do I have to blast these doors open? The rest will be here in moments; if you're to have any chance of turning those other androids of yours on, you're fast running out of time, old man."

Was Vegeta serious? All of Gero's data suggested it was possible, even likely, that he would want Seventeen and Eighteen active, so he could fight them. Boundless pride, as he’d noted earlier. He had barely allowed himself to entertain the notion for more than a few moments, believing it too far-fetched. But it seemed that truth was indeed stranger than fiction. And if it was a trick, well, Gero was going to perish anyway. There was no need to measure the teeth of the gift he'd been given.

"Very well." If Vegeta wanted to die that badly, then so be it. It would serve him right for destroying Nineteen like that. Months of work designing that model, wasted.

He floated up over the body—his scanners still detected life signs—of Krillin and up towards the lab, where Vegeta waited with his arms crossed. Gero punched the thirty-one digit code in and gave an impression of his ring finger—any idiot could use a thumb or index finger—and the doors slid open. "After you." Vegeta growled.

"Of course." Gero hovered in, hitting the lights and headed immediately for the controller that would command Seventeen and Eighteen to go on his belt. "I didn't want to activate these two, but there's hardly any choice now." He said, not that Vegeta was listening. Gero started with Seventeen's pod, deactivating all the security and safety functions.

"Another one?" Vegeta demanded suddenly from behind him. "Sixteen? What is this?"

"Don't touch that!" Gero swung around and faced the eyebrow Vegeta was arching, reminding him with his unimpressed look that he had three limbs and quite a bit of power on the android. He forced his tone to be calmer. Gero could play the beaten old man when he had to. "It's not complete yet."

Vegeta just snorted and peered into the globe at the top. "I don't see why you need a third one, if these two are as powerful as I've heard."

"I've no intention of being an old man forever. I still have much work to do." It would be years yet, after all, until his last project came to fruition. Gero turned back and started to punch in the complex code that would open Seventeen's pod.

"A replacement body, huh?" Another snort. "You could have made it better looking."

"Your suggestion is noted." Gero gritted. His sensors went off again; the warriors were gathered outside his door. Running out of time.

"What I don't understand is," Vegeta continued, "why attack today? Why not wait until this new body of yours was ready?"

"Poetic justice." Gero snapped as Seventeen's pod slid open. Vegeta was not supposed to be this talkative. "It is seventeen years today since Goku destroyed my Red Ribbon Army."

"Hm. If a child could destroy and entire army, it wasn't worth the name."

Gero ignored him. He could say what he wanted; in a few moments he would be dead anyway. "Seventeen, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Doctor Gero." Seventeen said pleasantly. "Good morning. Are you alright? You appear to have been damaged."

"I'm in need of some minor repairs, yes." Gero grumbled. At least it seemed to be functioning properly for once. "Seventeen, Vegeta here would like to fight you." He even managed to keep the scorn from his voice as he spoke. "And then there are some people outside whom I need you to destroy."

"Very well. Will you be activating my sister as well?"

"No, that's won't be necessary."

"Yes." Vegeta barked from behind him. "Both of them, old man."

Gero thought about arguing—for all of three milliseconds. "So be it." He moved away from Seventeen and started the opening process on Eighteen’s pod.

"Huh." Vegeta announced, taking a good look at the first android. "Aren't you a little bit pretty to be the scourge of the Earth?"

"Aren't you a little bit short to be the Prince of all Saiyans?"

"Why you—"

"No fighting in my lab!" Gero commanded as the last of the security on Eighteen’s pod was disabled. "I will not have you two destroying my equipment." For a wonder, they both listened.

The second pod slid open and after a second Android Eighteen stepped out. "Good morning, doctor." She said, perfectly normally. But her eyes were all ice.

Gero intended only to kill Goku and his friends, and then take over the world. He had no desire to see it destroyed. And he had no doubt that Seventeen and Eighteen could and would do just that if left to their own sadistic devices. He had to get them back into the pods as soon as possible, before they started to malfunction.

He sincerely hoped, looking upon his two heartless creations, that he hadn't just made the biggest mistake on the planet.

---

"Move out of the way."

Everyone complied as Trunks powered himself up to Super Saiyan and aimed his hands at the massive doors. Clearly, banging on them until Gero let them in was not working.

He glanced sideways at Krillin, half conscious and being supported by Tien. Vegeta's work. His father was in there, behind the doors, letting a madman destroy everything.

Maybe there was still time. Maybe they weren't active yet; even if only one of them was, that would be better than both. Maybe they hadn't failed yet. Trunks pooled his energy and blasted the doors to pieces.

The dust was quickly sucked up by fans inside the lab, clearing the air. And there stood Vegeta, looking not at him but at the floating Gero and...

Them. Seventeen and Eighteen. Cruelly beautiful, with eyes that could put out the sun, both looking uninterested in the explosion that had just exposed them. It was too late. Everything was doomed.

I'm sorry, Gohan.

The androids were active.

---
End
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I usually use this space to say something about the status of the next chapter, but it's never proven to be relevant or accurate, so I'll resist. Thanks for reading.