Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Love ❯ Time Again for Victory ( Chapter 7 )

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 7 Time Again for Victory

Rain was the last thing Gohan remembered before oblivion and hot lances of stinging fire. 17 and 18 had raised their hands and strafed him with thousands of bursts of energy. His last thoughts were of Trunks, willing his spirit to soar if his flesh was destroyed.

“I won't die. There's someone else who will live to carry out my wishes even if you destroy my flesh!” Gohan had vowed. At least that was what Gohan had planned in those last seconds of existence.

Now as the darkness yielded, he felt someone clutching him tightly, and he squeezed the warm body of Trunks tightly in his remaining arm. Black eyes met blue and the universe stopped. A quick snatching of transport pulled them out of one reality into another, dashing Gohan's already sensation-dazed brain into overload. Among the wheezing of air in his heavy chest, and the thumping of his heart against that of his companion, he hardly wanted to open his eyes again.

Sounds and smells filled his nose, along with the impact of dozens of tiny wet droplets from above. The crashing peel of thunder filled his ears, and the soft sobs of Trunks burying his face into his chest. Never wanting to let go, Gohan hugged him tightly in a death grip, his own throat forming great lumps. His lips whispered, “Trunks, this must be a dream or I'm in heaven or hell…”

“It's not a dream, it's real,” Trunks answered, voice muffled into Gohan's gi. Just to hold him again and be held in turn was worth every ounce of pain. Neither cared where they were at that moment, for the intensity of reunion was of greatest import. Burying his nose in the crest of Trunks silky hair Gohan inhaled deeply of the boy's scent. Normally Trunks came to his mid chest, but the boy now was tall enough for Gohan to rest his chin comfortably on top of his lover's head.

His lover, Gohan thought, without hesitation. The one who had called his name across the dimensions of death and snatched him back from a distant realm of sunlight and tournaments to rude painful reality. Where Namekians clustered and a great Dragon soared over them all in a darkened sky. Somehow, Trunks must have taken him to Namek and used the dragon balls there to bring him to life. At what cost had that poor foolish wonderful boy done such a thing?

“Trunks, what did you do,” Gohan asked seriously. He still imprisoned Trunks in the curve of his solitary arm, his dark eyes boring into the tear filled ones of his lover.

“I went to Namek and brought you back to life Gohan. Bulma wanted to build a time machine and have me go back and give your father Goku medicine… but…”

“Whoa, wait, slow down. I have been dead, remember! Please, I need to know what happened!”

“Are you angry I brought you back to life?” Trunks asked. Gohan tucked a long strand of hair behind Trunks ear.

“Damn your hair… it's grown so long,” Gohan mumbled. “And you've grown too… how long…”

“Less then a year. Gohan, we should get out of the open…”

“This can't be earth,” said a third voice, and Gohan tensed, pulling Trunks tighter to him as he glared down at their Namekian companion. Robes trailing the ground, the young Namekian wandered in ever-increasing circles through the ruined city.

Instantly Gohan tensed. Reluctantly he released Trunks from his embrace and stepped back. “We need to get the hell out of here. Now. There's no telling what's happened…”

“Right,” Trunks said. “Dende, follow us.”

“Dende? What the hell is he doing…?” Gohan stammered.

“No time, lead the way!” Dende agreed.

Reaching over Trunks grabbed Gohan's hand, suggesting, “We should go back to capsule right away. I only hope Mom's still all right…”

Not used to having Trunks take the lead, Gohan tensed yet wrapped his own body in energy. The three of them soon levitated upwards, and then blasted off at top speed after Trunks. Already the rain was beginning to clear, revealing the ruined cityscape beneath them. Gohan glumly recognized it as the very place 17 and 18 had killed him. Now he hardly wanted to think what could have happened during his death.

Soon the cracked dome of Capsule moved into view, and the trio sharply descended.

Through ruined tunnels, Trunks led the way, blinking in surprise to see no one there. “Mom…” he shouted. Gohan watched Trunks armor clad figure striding gracefully ahead of him, and admired the curve of his backside. Mentally he slapped himself for thinking such thoughts during what should be a time on guard. They needed to find Bulma, and get answers.

“Mom! I'm back!” Trunks shouted.

“Shh,” Gohan hissed, grabbing his arm. “I'm sensing a very weak life form… this way…”

“Mom!” Trunks gasped, and wrenched his arm from Gohan. Boots pounded the cracked floor as he raced through shattered doors and long tunnels to the underground facility. In rapid pursuit, Gohan and Dende rushed to catch up.

Draped over a desk was a blue haired figure, with a few streaks of grey in her hair. Trunks raced to her side, and Gohan frowned to see the shape of a tall contraption much like a spaceship towering over her. Patched and torn coveralls and a lab coat covered the limp form of Bulma Briefs, and Trunks quickly struggled to shake her.

“Mom! Answer me!” Trunks shouted.

“Trunks… she's still alive,” Gohan said, helping to lift Bulma's head and shoulders off the table. Bruises covered her face, and smudges of grease. Her body felt featherweight as Gohan and Trunks together lifted her and carried her between them.

“Maybe I can help,” Dende said. Both Saiyans mentally slapped themselves and motioned for Dende to follow them.

“Is she hurt… what happened to her?” Trunks said.

“She seems to have no broken bones,” Gohan muttered, helping to lay her down on the nearest bed once they exited the lab. “Dende…”

“Right,” the Namekian nodded. His hands moved within inches of Bulma, whose blue lashed eyes were shut fast. Her body seemed painfully thin, her wrists almost emaciated.

“It looks like she's half starved, but I don't see any evidence of any attacks,” Gohan glanced around. Trunks moved towards Dende, but Gohan stopped him.

“Don't worry. Dende is a healer. He can help her. Just let him tend to her while we figure out what's going on…” Gohan said.

“That thing in there is the time machine,” Trunks said. “But all the people who were here, are gone… she's all alone!”

“Damn… I wonder…” Gohan mumbled. Closing his eyes, he expanded his perceptions to try to sense for any living things. Only faint flickers of life here and there gave him the answer.

“She'll be all right,” Dende announced. “She's just very hungry. Is there any food?”

“I'll look for some. Thank you!” Trunks nodded, rushing off towards the lab. “But we need to secure this place in case we're attacked…”

“Right,” Gohan nodded, rushing off in another direction. Dende sighed, glancing down at the wrinkled face of another friend who he never thought he would again see. Judging by the visibility of her cheekbones and her body, she had aged rapidly. Namekians had long life spans compared to many life forms, but he had never asked Gohan how long humans lived.

Together Trunks and Gohan secured the place. They found no evidence of Android attacks, merely the remains of people who had once sheltered there. As far as Gohan could surmise, they have long left for a safe haven, or else had been picked off one-by-one protecting Bulma as she built the time machine. Turning from the defense console, he punched in the code for any bots. He was glad to see power still flickering in the old generators. Cameras flickered from dozens of cracked and twisted places.

He felt the life force of Trunks returning from the direction of the kitchen, and then moving towards his mother's bedroom where Dende's ki remained. Walking through the lab, he stopped to peer up at the strange craft with prong like legs and a domed cockpit. After he moved over to examine the blueprints spread out on Bulma's desktop, he realized they only looked half finished. Tools lay scattered and Gohan fingered his chin with his solitary hand as he poured over them. It had been a while since he bothered with physics and electronics, but he easily picked up the gist of the equations.

“A time machine. Bulma you have outdone yourself. However, you were working here all alone while Trunks was in space. What were you trying to do? Can you really cheat fate?” he mused.

Bulma would recover, for she was merely asleep. Gohan knew it would only be a matter of time before they would again face the Androids. In his heart, he knew once he saw the face thought he would behold in years that anything was possible. Above all, he knew that he and Trunks would be together to face it come what may. In their reunion they would succeed where alone, either had failed. Fate had blessed Gohan with a second chance through the force of their love. If love could transcend death, then victory was possible no matter what. For the last time he looked at the time machine, and wondered if, it was necessary after all. Yet it was their decision. Moreover, he and his lover would not be separated again by death, Gohan vowed.

***

The end or the beginning.