I've read a lot of stories about Trunks being jealous of his sister for being the favorite. But this time I have decided to try something similar, but new. Trunks and Bra playing together. Tearjerker. Please R&R.

"Princess, would you like some tea?"

"Thank you loyal servant!"

Trunks sat crossed legged across his sister as he poured her an imaginary cup of tea. Bra grinned broadly at her brother, loving every moment of their tea party. Trunks was always too busy working, being the next CEO of Capsule, but today the teen decided to spend some time with Bra.

Bra twirled in her dress. She was the carbon copy of her mother, with her signature blue hair and eyes. The five year old pranced over to her older brother and sat on his lap.

"Do you wanna play Prince Trunks this time?"

Trunks frowned. "It's okay Bra, you be the princess."

"But you're my brother, so that makes you a prince, does it?" The girl asked, looking up confused. Trunks smiled and ruffled Bra's hair, "Technically speaking, yes."

"Then why can't you be Prince?"

Trunks felt her words tug at his heartstrings. "Because-"

- our father thinks I'm a weakling

- I was an accident, the result of a night of passion

- I'm too soft, unfit to rule

"- there just isn't one, Bra." He said softly.

Bra's bottom lip quivered and her eyes welled up with tears.

Trunks sighed. "Do you want to hear a story, Bra?"

Immediately the previous conversation was forgotten. Bra settled herself on her brother's lap. "I like stories! Especially happily ever afters!"

"You mean fairytales?" Trunks raised an eyebrow.

Bra nodded. Trunks flashed her a small smile. "Alright. It goes like this."

"Once, there lived a small boy, who was of 5 years of age. One night, there was a storm. Feeling scared, the boy went to his parents' room. But as his mother was on a business trip, only his father lay on his bed."

Trunks frowned. It was more of a personal recollection than a made up tale.

"The boy went to his father. He shook his hand and woke his father up. 'Daddy, I'm scared of the storm,' he said. His father frowned at the boy, and told him 'brat, go back to sleep and stop bothering me.' The boy ran back to his room and hid under the blankets. He then cried himself to sleep."

Trunks sighed.

"The second night, there was another storm. He felt scared again, he went back to his parents' room. His mother was still out so the boy went to his father again."

Bra sniffed-she didn't really like this story.

"'Daddy, I'm scared of the storm.' The boy said. 'Brat,' his father replied gruffly, 'fears are for weaklings. Get lost.' Crying, the boy ran back to his room and hid under his blankets."

Trunks growled inwardly at this memory.

"The third night, there was another storm. The boy, once again ran back to his father. 'Daddy, I'm scared. The storm is so scary.' This time the father did not bother turn to face the boy-instead he just scolded,' don't you have anything better to do than to bother me? I told you fears are for weaklings, so stop being a coward. Scram.'"

"The boy ran off to his room again."

Trunks sighed. This was actually the end. Bulma returned home the next night, and the storms ended.

Tears sprang up in Bra's eyes. Trunks placed a hand on her head.

"The fourth night, the storm came back. The little boy tried his best to be brave, but still could not, so he went to seek out his father."

Bra liked Happily Ever Afters, so he'd make one up. For her.

"'Daddy, I'm scared...' His father turned on the bed to face the boy. 'Brat,' he said, 'Why are you afraid?'"

No. Not just for her. It was for himself too.

"'Storms are scary...but you said fears are for weaklings...' the boy answered timidly. His father sighed. 'Brat, I was wrong. Fears are not for weaklings. Everyone has fears. What counts is the strength to face those fears.' The boy nodded, and turned, but his father stopped him. 'You can sleep here tonight.' Smiling, the boy clambered up the bed and curled up beside his father. The two slept peacefully that night."

For himself, a reminder of a childhood that had never been.

Bra stared up into her brother's deep, thoughtful blue eyes. "Bro?"

A part of himself that he'll never get back.

Trunks looked back down. "Yes, Bra?"

A longing for the love he had never gotten.

"Did they live Happily Ever After, then?"

A miracle that something in him still wants to believe in.

"Yes Bra, they did. They both lived Happily, Ever, After."

End.