Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Silver Springs ❯ Chapter 7 : Keep the Faith ( Chapter 7 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter 7: Keep the Faith

Everything was hazy and oblique. As he wandered down the dark hallway he could feel the mist caressing his ankles like a lover's kiss. It was so dark, cold and lonely here. It was exactly what his life had become in a mere 36 hours. In the back corner of him mind, he wondered why he hadn't died yet, why the overwhelming weight of his confusion and anger hadn't crushed his form. Behind all of it, sitting on top of it was his hate, newly formed and truly the heaviest thing he owned. Flesh and bone could be demolished, it could die. But this new hate, birthed out of truths he had always somehow known in his subconscious, it couldn't be killed. And if it could, he didn't know how.

An eternity passed by in a second as he arrived at the end of the hallway. A large black door stood in front of him, not supported by anything. It was encrusted with golden carvings that seemed so familiar to him, but seemed as if they had happened 12 lifetimes ago. He peered at the carvings, trying to make sense of their meaning. Here was a young man standing firm on the field of battle, the very gold he was carved out of glowing with power. The boy was facing a large monster but it was shrouded in the shadows, pulsating with evil and turning the door around it to ice. Above the figures was another carving, barely etched into the door. It seemed that someone had tried to rub it away. All he could make out was a flame-shaped hairdo and a drawn frown. Beside the figure were two very distinct female eyes, large with worry. He reached up to touch the eyes that were so familiar and so distant. The door slid open.

Light blinded him, bringing him to his knees with stabbing pains into his brain. He fought against it, forcing his eyes open. He was standing in the garden of Capsule Corp, a place he had played so often as a child. Scanning the sprawling green lawn dotted with a rainbow of flowers, his eyes rested on a figure sitting under a tree. He was clothed in his orange fighting gi, his black hair short and swept back, and the scar that ran almost the entire length of his handsome face crinkled when he smiled.

"Dad?" Trunks whispered, walking toward him. Yamcha said nothing as the demi-Saiyan sat beside him. He looked at the boy he had called son for so many years and lay down in the sweet Kentucky bluegrass that smelled freshly cut and stared at the clouds as they meandered by.

"I know you're angry, Trunks. You have every right to be upset. Maybe we should have told you sooner, but we felt it was best to wait." He said.

"I could have handled it. It would have been easier to accept then. My entire life has been a lie."

"No it hasn't. You are the same person you were yesterday." Yamcha said, pulling a large blade of grass up and thoughtfully chewing on the end.

"Am I?" Trunks yelled angrily.

"Yup."

"Really? Explain this one to me. First I find out that the man I called dad my entire life was nothing more than a lying phony! You knew I wasn't yours and you STILL pretended that everything was normal! You knew what I am, what my real father is and you didn't say anything! Second, I find out that my mother, the very mother who read me bedtime stories and made chocolate chip cookies is nothing more than a cheap, two-bit whore who fucked one of the most violent men in the entire galaxy when she was supposed to be gathering the dragon balls to wish YOU, her 'true love', back to life! How does that not change me? How am I the same?" Trunks spat. Before he could blink, he was pulled to his feet as Yamcha punched him straight in the face, knocking him to the ground and bloodying his nose.

"You are out of line. You have no right, NO RIGHT, to talk about your mother like that, understand?" he growled, shaking his finger in Trunks' face. "I raised you better than this, you know better. First off, the circumstances surrounding your conception are none of your concern. Secondly-"

"But-"

"I'm not finished. Secondly, everyone makes mistakes. She's not perfect, I'm not perfect and you're not perfect. Deal with it." Yamcha glared at his foster son before his face fell into a sadness Trunks had never seen grace his features before. He shook his head slowly. "You're acting just like him right now, you know that?"

"What?"

"Like Vegeta. Flying off the handle, shooting barbs at everyone who ever cared about you in an effort to make everyone else as miserable as you are without even realizing it. Too caught up in your own anger and pain to care about what you're doing to other people.

"I didn't know Vegeta, I met him when he killed me and everyone else. But through King Kai, I observed him for awhile on Namek during his fight with Frieza. Then, after I died three years ago, I spoke to King Kai about him again, trying to understand what she saw in him. And I watched him do the exact same thing to everyone around him as you're doing to me right now and as you did to your mother last night."

"But...how can I be like him? I've never met him."

"Apparently, that doesn't matter."

"I'm not like him!" Trunks said pointedly, trying to make Yamcha see that it wasn't true.

"You sure? You've already started to let anger and hatred blacken your heart against your mother and me. You've done nothing but focus on your pain and not given one thought to what you are going to do now. That's pretty selfish if you ask me." Trunks felt his eyes fill with tears as she stared at the other man. "You have to understand. We didn't tell you because we wanted to protect you. Parents do that for their kids you know. Someday you'll understand that.

"You'll also understand that it takes more than semen to make a father. As far as I'm concerned, you are my son. I was the one who sat by your bedside while you were sick. I was the one who walked you to school everyday until you were in third grade. I was the one who taught you how to change a tire and throw a baseball, not him." Yamcha choked as tears started to spill down his face. Trunks, who had already been crying, began to sob harder. Yamcha gripped Trunks' shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. "I love you. You are the reason I woke up in the mornings. You brought me so much happiness and taught me so much. I would have given my life if it meant that you never would have to experience pain. Fuck DNA, fuck genetics. You are my son. And nothing will ever change that." He said embracing him.

"Oh Dad, I'm so sorry, I-" Yamcha let him go and held up a hand.

"I'm not the one who deserves an apology. You owe your mother one." Trunks averted his eyes, trying to hide the shame.

"What do I do now?" he asked softly.

"Well, first you apologize to your mother and beg, and I mean BEG, for her forgiveness."

"Yeah, but then what? I mean, I still want to know him and at least try to understand. Is that ok?"

"Of course. That's natural. Then you go out there and prove to him that you're no slouch. Take him with a grain of salt. At the very least, hey, you've learned something right?" Trunks nodded, smiling. "Well, look buddy I've gotta go. Take care of your mother for me and be good." Yamcha said standing. He began to walk away but stopped and turned to his son once again. "And Trunks. You have your mother's heart; you have her ability to see the good in everyone and everything. If anyone is going to see that in Vegeta besides her, it's you.

"You have a long road ahead of you but always remember that I love you ok?"

"I love you too dad." He said, tears once again rolling down his face. Yamcha disappeared.





Trunks bolted up in his bunk. It took him a second to remember where he was since everything smelled different. He was on the ship. Vegeta's ship actually, heading to the capital city of his vast empire to help his mother open up capsule plants. He touched his face, feeling for dried blood. There was none. It had been a dream, his encounter with Yamcha and the gardens at home. He pulled himself out of the bed and threw on some clothes. He had to find his mother.


He found her in a large conference room, pouring over documents and figures. She looked so tired at that moment, Trunks wondered if she'd had any sleep since she found out Vegeta was on the way to earth. That had been two days ago, they still had one left on the ship before they would reach the capital.

"Mom?" he ventured, trying not to scare her. He answered him by glaring in his direction, his words on the balcony obviously not forgotten.
"Can I...uh...talk to you?"

"Yes." She said coolly, steel filling every sound as it rolled off her tongue. Putting her pencil on the table, she crossed her arms and stared at him. It had been so long since she had been angry with him that he had almost forgotten how she could make him feel small and insignificant with one of her glares.

"I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about what I said the other night. I was out of line and really angry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." He said, moving a non-existent piece of dirt across the floor with his toe. He was really afraid of her right then. It was illogical, in all actuality he could have easily outrun her. He'd never try to overpower her, she was his mother and he'd never lay a hand on her. But even with all those logics in the back of his mind, he was as scared as a lost puppy. He was afraid she'd yell at him. Instead, he heard her sigh heavily.

"You have every right to be upset with me, that doesn't mean you had any right to speak to me the way you did. But I have never once, nor will I ever, apologize for an event that led to the birth of the most wonderful person to come into my life." she stood to look at him. Walking to where he was, she took his face in her hands and brought him down to eye level. It had been a very long time since he had been shorter than her. She kissed him on the forehead. "I love you Trunks. Nothing will ever change that ok?" he nodded the best he could and she released him. "Now. Do you want to help me go over these numbers one last time?" he nodded again and they sat at the table.




23 light years away

"Sire, important news from the front." The messenger said bowing before the large, purplish man who nodded for him to continue. "King Vegeta will be meeting with the Kermanian council tomorrow to make his planetary pitch to them."

"Didn't he already do that?" came the snobbish voice.

"Yes Sire, but it appears he has called for a second meeting."

"In desperation no doubt. I wouldn't worry about it Father. There is no way that he can possibly out-bid us. With his transports and manpower, he'll only be able to save a third of the Kermanian population. They would be fools to decide on his assistance, especially when we can save twice that many inhabitants." Said the younger creature seated on the right hand side of the large man. The large man nodded.

"Keep an eye on it, but I see no cause for alarm." The large man said to the messenger.

"Yes King Kold." Said the messenger before hurrying from the room.

"Honestly father, you worry too much." Said Kooler, pouring his father more wine. King Kold took a sip of the bitter wine. He had known Vegeta for far longer than his son, and knew that underestimating him could be a fatal mistake.

::What have you got up your sleeve this time Vegeta?:: he wondered, swirling the wine in his glass.