Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Love ❯ Three Wishes ( Chapter 6 )

Second Chances for Love

By Trynia Merin

Summary: What if instead of going to the past with the Time Machine, Future Trunks instead used a spaceship to go to New Namek?  And when he arrives, will they even know who he is, and be willing to help?

Author Notes: This story was written for the contest at Boxer and Rice. It was written with ideas given to me by Truhania, to whom I owe many thanks for getting me started on this!

Chapter 6 Three Wishes

His stomach trembled in anticipation as Trunks watched them place the Dragon Balls in a loose cluster nearby. With raised hands, Muuri chanted the namekian incantation. Trunks threw up his hand before his face to shield himself from the blast of wind and swoosh of energy that exploded from the heart of the balls. Powerful strokes of lightening split the once stagnant air, leaving a smell of ozone in his nostrils. Pea green skies blackened to the inky blackness of night, split by the flashes of lightening and the column of coruscating power shooting heavenwards.

Bulma had told bedtime stories of her quest with the dragon balls for as long as he could remember. Stories of how she met Uncle Yamcha and the other warriors, and the man she saw as a brother, Son Goku. A mile high the energy formed the shape of a dragon, hovering and staring over them with its tail stretching straight up.

“Porunga,” Dende intoned. In a rumble like thunder, the Dragon's voice asked for the first wish.

Trunks did not need their prompting to utter, “I wish that Son Gohan be brought back to life!”

“Are you sure? For the soul of him will come to the place where he last lay…,” said Dende.

“Can you bring the soul of Son Gohan here with the first wish?” Trunks asked.

“That is within my power to grant,” the Dragon said.

“And tell Muuri to use the second to bring Gohan back to life,” said Trunks.

“But without a body to return to it is useless,” Porunga rumbled.

“Not a problem,” Trunks said, reaching for the capsule around his neck. Dende watched wide-eyed as Trunks pressed the plunger and tossed it to the side. Out of the smoke arose a cylindrical tube about three meters long and one meter wide. The top was translucent, revealing a strangely shaped object inside.

“Is that…' Dende whispered.

“Well, what is your first wish?” the dragon growled impatiently. Muuri waited, his hands upheld as Trunks repeated himself, and Dende rushed over to peer inside the strange tube. His eyes widened to see the dark shape had a face and shoulders, and was in fact a person.

Muuri's namekian wish echoed in the thunder. The dragon's shout of “Granted!” echoed through the small village of rounded huts.

“Now, bring Son Gohan back to life!” Trunks shouted, his fist upraised as he stared up at Porunga. Not a second later, Muuri's voice converted the wish to Namekian syllables, almost whipped away by a gust of wind.

Dende jumped back when a stroke of lightening crashed dangerously close to the cylinder. Licking across its surface the waves of ki surged. A radiance almost as blinding as the aura surrounding Porunga nearly seared Trunks eyes. He rushed up panting to the cylinder, his heart pounding in rapid strokes.

“Granted!” the Dragon boomed.

“Wait a minute,” Trunks panted, rubbing the shape of the cylinder with a gloved fist. His blue eyes narrowed in sudden anger to see no movement from within.

“Give it a moment,” Dende whispered his own eyes wide with shock to see an old friend with a scarred visage and spiky hair, eyes closed as if in slumber.

“Do you have another wish or what?” Porunga interrupted.

“Just a minute,” Trunks panted. “I have to know.”

“Gohan,” Whispered Dende., as Trunks urgently fumbled with the latches on the side of the container. Dende's fingers automatically worked at the other, and he yelped as if in paint at the prickling cold sensation biting his green skin.

“It's a cooler capsule,” Trunks gritted, and then slammed his fist into the side of the thing. Again, Porunga shouted, and Muuri called to them.

“Dammit,” Trunks mumbled, and ripped at the side of the container. Like paper, it ripped under his fingers, and he dug them in, tugging up the top half. Dende leapt back with a yelp as the lid shot off and over Trunks' shoulder. Now he could more clearly see the occupant lying with his hands folded over his breast, and his dark lashed eyes squeezed shut. Familiar battered garments covered his muscular body, only a slight twitch indicating any life. Yet Dende could feel the flicking of ki like a candle flame.

“Gohan! Please… wake up,” Trunks urged, sliding his hand under the neck of the man who looked frighteningly similar to Goku, Dende reflected. Even the close cropped hair flared into an a array of curved spikes at the front, somewhat like Son Goku's, and judging by the way Trunks leaned over him with his arms wrapped around the man's torso, the nature of their concern was intriguing to the young Namekains.

Swirls of moisture distorted Trunks view as he moved his head to within inches of Gohan's lifeless lips. A faint puff of something hit his cheeks and he felt his heart stopping as he saw the blue and red clad chest rise and fall. Numb lips formed the words, “Gohan…” as he gently shook the other half saiyan's body.

“How much longer must I wait?” shouted the Dragon. “Do you have a third wish or not?”

However, Trunks barely heard the words of the booming Dragon for they were blurred by the faint groans emanating from the lips of someone thought dead. Against his arm, he felt the warmth returning to Gohan's lifeless body, and felt the twitching of neck muscles as the head flinched to one side and he struggled to cradle it. Voice breaking Trunks cried, “Gohan, please wake up!”

Dark lashed eyes fluttered, the graceful brows arching over them knitting into a frown. His other hand grasping the front of Gohan's half-torn gi Trunks choked back another sob. The burst of ki flooding his senses told him everything he needed to know. Especially when two dark eyes popped open wide in shock and Gohan's entire body flinched. Trunks toppled backwards, as Gohan flung his arm wildly against him.

“Wha….” Gohan gurgled, blinking in the strange shapes that swirled around his scarred face. Inside his chest, his heart pounded, and he saw the strange figures bent over him, and the strokes of lightening in a dark sky.

“Where… what the hell… is going on?” Gohan shouted, head snapping back and forth. He swung his legs around out of whatever surface he lay in, and a second look to the side told him it was some sort of bed with raised sides.

“Gohan!” cried Dende, grasping at the strange figure Gohan saw climbing to his feet.

“Gohan, thank Kami,” cried a voice that he last recalled trailing off, pleading him to not leave him behind. Just before him bobbed two faces, one of an antennaed Namekian, and the other with long lavender hair. Tendrils of it partly obscured the intense blue eyes staring straight into his soul. Mind reeling Gohan quickly scanned the area and then arched his head backwards to take in the soaring figure of a great Dragon hovering over them all. Other blurs formed into the shapes of robed Namekians rininging seven glowing spheres, under a stormy sky slashed with strokes of lightening.

White gloved hands seized him as Gohan leapt to his feet and into a slightly defensive posture, spinning around in disbelief to take in his surroundings. The stump of his amputated left arm twitched as well, swinging its blue sleeve that flapped and blew in the wind. Just before him, those familiar blue eyes looked up and their owner spoke his name, “Gohan! It worked! You're alive again!”

Long lavender hair hung over the eyes, the rest of it gathered at the back of his neck. Gohan stammered in shock, blinking in disbelief at the young man who suddenly wrapped strong muscular arms around his waist. Tightly they latched there as he felt someone squeezing his ribs and burying their face in his chest. All Gohan could stammer was, “Trunks… is that you… what in the hell just happened?”

“Gohan! I never thought I'd see you again!” another familiar voice declared and he swung his face around to see Dende, a bit taller but unmistakable.

“Trunks! Do you want to use that third wish now?” echoed another voice. Gohan's already whirling brain took in the sight of Muuri with his arms upraised. Instinctively his arm tightened around the waist of whoever was squeezing him in a death hug. One quick glance down confirmed it must be Trunks due to the lavender hair.

“Send us all back to earth now!” Dende shouted to Muuri, as Gohan's mouth opened in a question.

“Wait a minute, someone explain just what's going on here!” Gohan demanded. Yet the syllables tumbling from Muuri's lips indicated a wish was being translated to Namekian.

Lifting his head from Gohan's chest Trunks said, “There's no time to explain, Gohan! Not till we get home…”

“But…” Gohan stammered as reality shifted and blurred. He half wondered if he was in hell and merely dying again.