If Only You Were Here!

By No1butjoe

A/N: After receiving such encouraging reviews for my other story "Silent Tears", I decided to do another Vegeta/Trunks (father and son moment) story. Enjoy and, as always, R&R!

Note: Trunks is around 13, maybe.

Disclaimer – If I owned DBZ, I think we'd all be in trouble.

Summary – Set a couple of years after "Silent Tears". Trunks' school is having a Father-Son picnic. Not surprisingly, Trunks never tells Vegeta about it. But a mysterious stranger may spoil the fun for everyone. Will Vegeta find Trunks before it's too late?

Trunks stood outside his parent's bedroom, the paper announcing the Father-Son picnic clenched tightly in his hands.

'Will he even care?' Trunks wondered, keeping his gaze fixated on the floor.

Suddenly, the door opened and Vegeta stepped out, slightly surprised at the sight of his son standing there.

"What do you want, brat?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Trunks looked up, surprised to see him standing there, waiting expectantly. Immediately, Trunks knew he'd say no. That, once again, he'd be left out of the activities that all the other fathers and sons would be having.

"Nothing, Dad," he replied, crumpling the paper into a wade and tossing it into the trashcan nearby.

Vegeta watched the boy walk away, then, thinking nothing of it, shrugged, and headed towards the gravity room to train.

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The park was packed with people, mostly those from Trunks' class. As the demi-saiyan walked up to his teacher, he could see the look of concern and understanding on her face. She knew Vegeta wasn't coming.

"Come on, Trunks, I'm sure you can play with one of the other fathers and his son," she said, smiling.

The young boy shook his head, then, lifted it as he heard laughter coming from his classmates.

"I just don't feel much like celebrating, ma'am," he stated, turning to sit on one of the picnic tables.

Back at Capsule Corp . . . .

Bulma hummed happily to herself as she walked into the hallway and started emptying the trash. Just as she was about to tie up the bag, a piece of paper caught her eye. Curious, she opened it, only to have her eyes widen at what she was reading. Hurriedly, she folded the paper and rushed down the hallway, shouting, "Vegeta!"

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The Park . . .

Trunks cringed with every laugh he heard or every encouraging word his teacher would give him about his father showing up at any minute.

'You obviously don't know my father,' Trunks thought, jumping off the picnic table, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and trudging along as everyone moved further down the field to the next activity. He wouldn't show up, even if I did tell him about today.'

"Trunks, look out!"

The half-saiyan casually glanced up to see a football speeding towards him at an alarming rate. Not bothering to move out of the way, Trunks raised his right hand, easily catching it without any effort. The fathers and sons were shocked at this new development and stared at the young boy in disbelief.

Hesitantly, the teacher retrieved the ball from him and returned it to the players.

"What's the matter, kid?"

Trunks looked up in confusion. The voice wasn't familiar, yet they were talking to him like they knew him.

"Over here."

The lavender-haired boy jerked his head to look off to his right. There, standing against a tree, was a man he'd never seen before. Dressed in an outfit too bizarre to be a human's, the man stood at a good six feet. His build was slightly muscular, but yet not at the same time. Processing this information, Trunks was immediately on guard.

"Who are you?" he demanded, shocked when, instead of answering, the man stood up from leaning on the tree, faced him, and started walking. "I'll ask again. Who are you? You sure can't be from Earth. No one in their right mind would wear something as hideous as that."

Apparently, the stranger had a breaking point, for that's when he lifted himself into the air and prepared himself for an attack, heading straight for Trunks! Before the youth could blink, the man was directly in front of him. A swift punch to the face sent Trunks flying into the dirt, coughing up slight amounts of blood due to the impact.

He smirked as he wiped away any leftover traces of blood on his mouth.

"Now I know you're not from Earth," he said, standing up and getting into a fighting stance. "No human could take me down so easily."

The man raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised at the young boy's spirit to fight.

"Are you saying you're not from Earth, either?" he asked, curiously.

"Not exactly," Trunks replied, "but this isn't the place to discuss this."

The stranger suddenly smiled and nodded, now fully understanding what he meant.

"Lead the way," he offered.

Trunks nodded, but not before looking over at his classmates and teacher. The woman was looking over at him with a confused look on her face.

"If anyone asks, I'm defending my honor!" Trunks shouted to her. "They'll understand what I mean!"

'At least, I hope they will.'

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Hours later . . . .

"What do you mean the brat just left?!"

Trunks' teacher stepped back in surprise at the force administered in that remark.

"He-He said he was defending his honor," the teacher explained.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he closely examined the human in front of him.

"Thanks," he grunted before taking to the sky.

'I can feel his energy signal, but it's weak,' he thought, gritting his teeth. 'Trunks, what were you thinking?'

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"Is that all the power you have left, runt?"

Trunks struggled with his hands to lift his broken and tattered body off of the ground in an effort to once again face his opponent. He screamed in agony as his sprained wrist shot sharp needles of pain through his arm.

"Pathetic, kid," the man continued to taunt the demi-saiyan. "When you challenged me to a fight, I thought for sure you'd have the strength to actually live up to your words."

Trunks clutched his hand tightly to his chest, tears filling his eyes and threatening to fall. Stubbornly, he held them back.

'Saiyans don't cry and we are not beaten my mere aliens who wish to take over our planet.'

Vegeta's words rang in his head over and over again. Determination stood strongly on the young boy's face as he gradually made his way to his feet, still nursing his injured wrist.

"My father taught me to never give up," he spat out. "If I have to fight you til my dying breath, I'll do it!"

Immediately, he let out a yell, sending his lavender hair standing up, spiking into a blond color. His eyes flashed a few times before staying at the aqua color they always were at when in super saiyan form. The man grinned, not at all surprised or afraid of the new transformation. Trunks lifted himself into the air, seriousness written all over his face as he used his good arm to send blasts at the stranger below. Time and time again, the older man dodged the blasts, not sending anything in return.

'Maybe if I wear him down enough, I'll be able to kill this kid and continue with what I was sent to do,' the man thought, smirking at his plan. 'The boss'll be pleased if I can manage to destroy a saiyan brat in the process.'

"You're dead!" Trunks shouted, charging at full speed.

The man didn't blink an eye as his foe grew closer. Just when it seemed like Trunks had the upper hand, the man step-sided his attack, elbowing the youth in the back, sending him sprawling halfway across the clearing.

"You caught me off guard," Trunks stated, getting to his feet once again. "But I promise it won't happen again!"

The man smirked at his determination and sighed as if bored.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, kid," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "This is actually getting kind of boring. Maybe I should just finish you off here and now."

Trunks' serious face turned to one of shock and fear.

"Wha-What are you talking about?" he stammered.

His opponent laughed.

"You mean to tell me that you couldn't see that I've been toying with you?" he asked, shaking his head in amazement. "You're more stupid than I thought, punk."

Surprised at the man's honesty, Trunks dropped out of super saiyan, his lavender hair once again falling into its normal place.

'I threw everything I had at him and it didn't faze him one bit. How can I beat someone who refuses to stand still?'

"Give up, kid?"

Trunks dropped to the ground on his knees, eyes still wide in shock and anger. The man laughed at the young teen's defeat.

"So, I guess this means I won't be able to have any fun anymore," he said, acting like he was upset over the turn of events. "Well, all good things must come to an end, as they say."

Trunks watched in horror as his foe fired up a blast in his hand, one that could very easily destroy him, as well as anything within a five mile radius. The worse thing was, there was no way he could dodge it! The young demi-saiyan closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable impact.

"Die, kid!"

Trunks waited as one thought crossed his mind.

'I'm sorry, Dad.'

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He could feel when the man let the blast loose and he stiffly waited for it to hit its mark. Surprisingly for Trunks, he felt no pain. Daring to risk a glance, he opened one eye, then the other as shock registered on his face. Standing in front of him protectively, stood Vegeta, holding back the blast with just one hand!

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you," Vegeta started, looking at the man who had tried to kill his son, "if you mess with the bull, you get the horns!?"

With the last word, the full-blooded saiyan pushed the blast back, sending it straight towards its owner with an incredible force. Trunks shielded his eyes as the blast took everything with it, including the stranger. Once the smoke and dust cleared, only Vegeta and Trunks were left standing.

Trunks smirked up at his father, a feeling of pride and gratitude radiant in his eyes as he pumped his fist into the air in victory. Immediately, pain shot through his wrist and he favored it greatly by clutching it once more to his chest. A small groan escaped his lips, which didn't go unnoticed by Vegeta. Without saying a word, the prince of all saiyans knelt next to his son and gently held out his hand, asking for Trunks to let him see the damage.

Sniffing back oncoming tears, the demi-saiyan held out his wrist for the older man to see. Vegeta took his time, gently feeling the bones and examining the outside to determine what was wrong with it. Gradually, he let Trunks place it at his side. Standing, Vegeta turned away, arms crossed over his chest.

'I should've known he didn't care,' Trunks thought, sighing deeply. 'Well at least he showed up.'

"Come on, brat!" Vegeta called from his hovering position in the sky.

Trunks looked up, surprised that he hadn't noticed that his father had taken off without him. Nodding, he immediately flew up next to him, keeping his head bowed, not able to look the saiyan in the eye.

"We're going home so the woman can take care of you wrist," Vegeta stated matter-of-factly.

Trunks knew something else was coming. The only other word his father knew. Training.

"Then, we have a picnic to go to."

He jerked his head up in surprise at the words that just registered in his head. Vegeta still floated there, arms crossed over his chest, only this time, a slight smile graced his features.

"Let's go, brat."

Trunks smiled and laughed happily. Some things would never change.

A/N: Wow, 8 pages in Microsoft word. I can't believe it took me five days just to write this. Well, anyway, I hope you all enjoy. And don't forget to R&R!