Disclaimer: As always, I don't own DBZ.

Author's Note: OK, if anyone still actually holds an interest in this fic, I'm really sorry for not updating. Lack of interest/being busy/writing myself right into a hole are about the only excuses I can give.

A major plot twist begins in this chapter. This is where the truth finally begins to unfold...

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." William Shakespeare

Three days later, at the Son house

"Well, that's it for my room," Bulma said matter-of-factly as she clumped down the rickety wooden stairs, arms fully laden with various junk she had salvaged. "And that seems to be everything..."

She made her way downstairs into the sunlit living room, depositing the stuff into a large cardboard box she had waiting upon the moth-eaten sofa. The objects inside perhaps weren't all that useful, nor were they things that she desperately needed, (Capsule Corp had about every amenity on the planet anyway), but everything had some sort of sentimental value that she wished to hold onto.

"What would I do with all this furniture anyway?" she muttered to herself as she went over the contents of the house mentally. "And technically it's not even mine!"

That was true enough. She remembered having many misgivings about moving here after Capsule Corp had been smashed, although Gohan had eventually talked her into it, saying that they couldn't roam the streets and eke out a living forever. He had been bright for a little kid, she mused, and he had been able to realize a lot of things that she hadn't... Until it was too late, anyway.

The whisper was dry upon her lips. "I can't believe I'm finally leaving here," she murmured hoarsely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I really can't..." But she was. Capsule Corp was her and Trunks's home once again; she no longer had to sit and brood here in old memories. Although Capsule Corp had nearly as many, if it all came down to it...

She would never let this place become a derelict ruin, though. Not ever. Not after everything that had happened here. All the happiness and sadness, the laughter and tears, the life and death...she would somehow keep this house in repair as a testament to the Son family's memory. It was the very least that she could do, considering that she was one of the few left.

Bulma stared at the box. It was scarcely half full, but she still missed nothing. It honestly went to show how much she'd really miss this place (meant sarcastically, of course), going by how many things she was taking with her to remind her of it. (I'll have to ask Trunks later on if I forgot something...)

She was just turning to leave (she had the yard to pick up, with all of her unfinished inventions and experiments, after all) when something sitting on the coffee table under the dusty bay window caught her eye. It was standing prominently amongst the other pictures and the lace doilies that Chi-Chi had knit long ago, its silver edges gleaming innocently in the morning sunlight...

"Son-kun," she stated softly, crossing the room to pick up his framed photo. The frame itself was caked with dust and the photo itself was getting faded and discolored, but nevertheless it was a picture of her best and oldest friend. He waved happily at her, seemingly oblivious of her current situation.

"Son-kun," she muttered again, holding the frame to her chest. She hated looking at it dead-on, at any rate; she had just had a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the shiny frame. A glimpse of her aging body, her increasing wrinkles and the gray hair that was starting to appear around her temples.

"I suppose I should take this picture with me," she announced to herself brusquely, looking at her box. "It's of Goku, after a-"

Her self-musings were, however, rudely interrupted at this point by a sharp rapping upon the front door.

(Now who could that be?) she wondered to herself as she, still holding the picture, headed for the front door. (There's no neighbors around here to speak of, and Trunks is still---ARRGH, Puar! I TOLD you to stay home!)

However, it was not Puar on the other side of the door. Nor was it Trunks. Nor was it anyone she was even remotely expecting.

She screamed bloody murder when she saw who was standing on her front porch. The fragile picture frame fell out of her nerveless hands, shattering on impact.

"Auto pilot now proceeding to Planet Earth. Estimated landing time: t minus seventy minutes."

Trunks looked up at the intercom as his finger jabbed away at the button controlling the window hatch to the bridge. The stupid thing appeared to be malfunctioning, and at this rate he would have to head downstairs to check out Earth as they approached. He wasn't planning on coming back up here to look at it anytime soon, at any rate; probably not ever, if he could help it. It was a lonely region, space...and if he hated one thing it was being lonely.

"Need help?" Trunks whirled around as he heard the metallic clink of someone coming up the ladder.

"Need is an understatement," Trunks replied dryly as he watched Gohan approach. "I've been pushing this damn button for so long that it's sunk about six inches since I started."

Gohan stared at the hatch for a moment, and then, sitting down in the co-pilot's chair, proceeded to type something in the keypad on the control panel. Trunks watched amazed as the hatch slowly moved apart, revealing the brown wasteland that was the surface of Earth, after only a few seconds of typing.

"Your mother taught me that," he said matter-of-factly as he leaned back in his chair to watch. "She invented the manual override in this ship, you know." He turned to look at Trunks, who was still leaning against the control panel. "She's a smart woman, Trunks. Very smart. But I still can't figure out why-" He cut himself off abruptly at this point, leaving it to dangle annoyingly in the air.

"Why what?" Trunks automatically asked.

Gohan's reply was every bit as automatic. "Never mind."

Trunks let out a frustrated sigh. "Will you just tell me, already, Gohan?! I KNOW it has something to do with me and my parents! And I of all people should at least be told about it!"

"You'll find out soon enough," Gohan replied simply.

"You're frustrating!"

"And you're impatient!" Gohan gave his younger friend a stern look. "Honestly, why do you want to know so badly? Curiosity killed the cat, if you remember!"

"And the moron who said that 'blessed are the ignorant' should have died too! Preferably painfully," Trunks added dryly as he returned the gaze in a manner that was every bit as stern.

The conversation from there immediately degenerated into a pained silence that seemed to set up an invisible barrier between the duo. Trunks, swiveling his chair around in such a manner so that he was not facing Gohan, inwardly seethed; he was becoming increasingly frustrated by his mentor's secretive approach. Was this how he got his kicks or something, keeping him in the dark like this? And what, really, was the point? What could possibly be so important? There was nothing really secret and dark in his past...right?

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard movement somewhere behind him. "Where ARE we?" Yamcha asked them in an awed voice as he stared at the brown, desolate planet hovering into view before them.

"That's Earth," Gohan replied gravely, inclining his head towards the former desert bandit.

"But...but what the hell HAPPENED?" was all he managed to gasp out. "I mean---Earth---it's - it's blue and green and everything - how could THAT mudball be Earth?"

Gohan gave him a sympathetic glance. "It's been quite awhile, you know, Yamcha..."

"But - but -"

Others were now coming up the metal ladder. Almost as if in some ghastly procession, they all climbed up one-by-one, all of them realizing to varying degrees just where exactly they were.

"Guys...what the hell is this?!"

"A really bad planetary makeover, that's what!"

"Did---did the Androids manage to do this? How could ANYTHING destroy a planet to that degree?!"

"Wow...Maybe we would have been better off staying dead, if this is what we're coming back to..."

An eerie silence came over the ship as everyone continued to stare at the horrific scene below them. As Gohan slowed the engine and allowed it to glide towards the surface at a snail's pace, more and more traces of the rampant destruction of the past years appeared. The remains of once-great cities littered amongst the ground like discarded toys...skyscrapers, completely snapped in half...the unkept wasteland that now overtook a good three quarters of the globe...it was unnerving even to Trunks and Gohan, though to them notsomuch the planet itself as the reactions of their friends.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Krillin said quietly to no one in particular. "I mean, it couldn't have gotten like this in just a few years...right?"

"Sixteen years," Gohan half-whispered, his eyes fixed on the now barely recognizable West City, which was slowly coming up on the horizon below them. "It's been sixteen years since you all died...Since then the Androids have continued to destroy the Earth. In fact, they'd probably still be doing it now, if not for - if not for---" He slightly inclined his head in Trunks's direction, unable to finish the sentence.

Trunks reddened at all the sudden attention as everyone turned to stare. A sudden rush of emotions coursed through him; emotions of embarrassment, pride, and nervousness, among other things. Although he also noticed that fear was mingled in as well, he was still unsure of just what exactly he was afraid of. Shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't he be grateful for having gotten so far? Why did he...fear? All he knew was that the fear grew exponentially as the planet loomed ever closer...

The sudden "hmph" snapped him out of his reverie and his heart skipped a beat slightly as he turned to glance at Vegeta, who was standing towards the back, a smug grin plastered on his face. Their eyes locked for a split second, but just a second was enough for Trunks. His father at that point flashed a very uncharacteristic grin at him and then looked away. Trunks turned back around to face the front, the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach beginning to inch upwards. (How creepy...It's almost like he knows something that I don't. But he doesn't...he wouldn't have an idea yet...would he? And besides, even if he did...wouldn't it just save us the problem of telling him?)

(I don't know,) Trunks thought as he stared West City in the face, (But somehow that I'm getting the bad feeling that Gohan must be having...)

The mood was somber as the gangway was lowered and everyone sauntered outside of the spaceship. The day itself was quite beautiful (though not very green, as the weather had changed dramatically over the course of two decades), but this was lost on everyone as they stepped out into Capsule Corp's large outdoor docking bay, whose dull gray cements and cast iron fencing contrasted sharply with the sharp blue autumn skies, smattered with fast-moving clouds.

Trunks, as he waited for the last of the group to come down, looked around at the busy docking area around him. The employees were still working at repairing the landing sites in the airport sector and a few were mending the fence on the eastern side, but for the most part everything was looking much improved since he had left. (Man, what to do first?) he asked himself as he jerked his head towards the main building, where he supposed his mother was. (I guess...we need to go to Mom first. Maybe SHE can tell me about all this cra---)

"Trunks! Trunks!" a familiar little voice was squeaking. "Trunks! Yay, you're home! Trunks!"

He whirled around to the side only to find Puar already flitting around him, shrieking in her shrill little voice and apparently even more bubbly than usual.

"Uh, hi, Puar," was all Trunks managed to proffer as he watched the little blue form flying from up, down, around, and side-to-side.

"Oh, you're finally back! We all missed you so much! We've been waiting for days and days and d----YEAGHHHH!!" Her ecstatic musings had suddenly been cut off when her beady little eyes caught sight of a certain familiar someone making his way down the gangplank...

"Yamcha!" she shrieked happily, diving towards him like a speeding bullet. "I- I can't believe it; you're alive! YEAH!" She then proceeded to land on his shoulder and nuzzle his face, purring contentedly. "I thought you were dead forever!"

Yamcha stared at her stupidly for a moment, but then broke into a grin and scratched the purring feline's face affectionately. "And I did too, Puar, I did too..." His eyes widened, however, as he turned to get a better look at you. "Hey, Puar, looks like you've gotten a lot olde -er- mature since I left, huh?"

Puar, who had gotten a rather dour look on her face in response to his unguarded comment, managed to retort, "Yeah, and so has Bulma! Better not say that to her or you'll never get that wedding ringer on her finger!"

Yamcha sputtered, "Hey! That was a low blow, Puar! You know I was getting close, and-"

Trunks, who had been listening and had been getting increasingly confused throughout the entire conversation, suddenly started as he noticed movement towards the back of the chattering group of the newly-revived. Movement by a short, spiky-hard someone whom also happened to be his father... (What's he doing NOW?!) Trunks thought as Vegeta irritably pushed his way past the ecstatic Yamcha and Puar and towards himself. (And he doesn't look happy, either. Geez, this guy's even more unpredictable than my OTHER dad!)

He quickly and unfortunately found out, however, when Vegeta came right up to him and grabbed his collar. "Hey!" Trunks exclaimed, managing to push him away. "What's the big idea?!"

"You, boy," was the growl in response. "You are too much of a threat towards me to live! Therefore I must eliminate you before you grow even stronger than you already are!"

"W-wait a second!" Trunks butted in nervously, quickly realizing the potential of a dangerous situation. "What did I ever do to YOU?! I helped you by reviving you, for crying out loud!" He stared into his father's dark, soulless eyes, so full of pride and determination; his face was set into a definite smirk as he stood there with his hands on his hips, somehow looking as if he was getting some sort of perverse pleasure from being frightening. Not that Trunks was exactly frightened, though; going by the way his father's Ki was beginning to peak, there was no way that even his power level as Super Saiyan was a third of his own. Why, though, was he continuing, when he knew full well that Trunks could probably drop him in a second? Wasn't it technically suicide?

Everyone was watching apprehensively now. The happy chattering amongst everyone had ceased as they noticed the impending fight. A few, Trunks even managed to notice, were staring dully at Vegeta with apparent dislike on their faces.

Looking away for that brief moment had been a mistake for Trunks. WHUMP!! Vegeta's fist suddenly violently connected with his face, taking him completely off guard. Trunks grimaced for a moment, but did not move. Vegeta stared at him with what seemed like amazement for a split second, but he quickly covered it by narrowing his eyes and glaring at his apparently pacifist opponent, who still adamantly refused to move.

"I asked you this once, boy, I'll ask it again: what the HELL are you?!" the Saiyan growled, not blinking his eyes for even a split second. "Even those bloody Androids would have been affected like a punch like that! Just what-" He paused as a shudder of anger went through his entire body, his overlarge ego apparently having been deflated like a bad tire. "Never mind," he spat, his hair flashing gold as he began the ascension to Super Saiyan. "You're going down!"

Really seeing no way out of this one, Trunks hopped back before his father could attack, knowing that he could and would within seconds. He wished for more than anything to not have to fight, but as Vegeta had other plans, it looked as if he would have to anyway... He ascended into Super Saiyan with a brilliant flash of gold, drawing many admired gasps from those watching (as well as an anguished "I KNEW this would happen!" from Gohan). Even Vegeta couldn't contain the surprise flitting through his rough features; he momentarily stopped in his tracks as he finally recognized Trunks for what he was, unable to fight, speak, or even move.

For a brief happy moment Trunks thought that perhaps Vegeta had been intimidated out of fighting, but that hope was quickly dashed when his father quickly began to form a ball of Ki in his hand. "Saiyan, eh?!" he growled, the electricity from his hand crackling ferociously. "I don't know and I don't care how or why! Either way, we fight!"

Trunks weighed his options carefully. The ball of Ki probably wouldn't hurt him...not much, anyway. But even so, was he going to let Vegeta continue to attack him? Either way, he had to fight...his options were very limited.

"STOP!" The one word shot out at Trunks and Vegeta like a deadly bullet. "STOP STOP STOP STOP!!" Trunks let out a gasp as he recognized the voice ringing out at him, and the fragile but determined figure who ran right in the path of Vegeta's still constrained Ki ball.

"MOM!" Trunks shouted desperately, praying that Vegeta would not lose control and hit her. "GET OUT OF THE WAY NOW!! HE'D HIT ANY OF US IN A HEARTBEAT!!"

A/N: I hope that no one's brain exploded in trying to read this chapter. It's bad, I know, but I abhor fics that I don't finish and this is no exception.

At this point I'm very open to any suggestions; I already see a problem with the next chapter and I haven't even written it yet! I will get the next chapter up as soon as I resolve the problem with the plot.

Review!! Review!! Review!!