Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, or the Mirai timeline, or any timeline, for that matter. I am but a humble fan paying homage to a wonderful anime.

The Burden of Hope

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Unwelcome Visitors; A Change of Plans

He glanced back at Trunks, and fought off a smile; the kid's grin was becoming infectious, and hadn't faded once on the entire trip so far. The journey was taking far longer than it should have, as Trunks could not fly as quickly as Gohan could and needed frequent rests in order to regain his strength. Gohan didn't mind the delay, though; Trunks was good company, and there had been no friction between them since the day Trunks had learned to float on his own.

In the distance, Gohan could see the skyline of the West Capitol slowly approaching; it couldn't be much more than perhaps three hours away. Three hours until he got Trunks home.

"Look, Trunks," he said, pointing a finger toward the city. "There it is. Your home."

The toddler pulled up beside him, lavender hair blown back away from his forehead, and blue eyes squinting against the wind. "Right there? Is that really it?"

"Hai."

Impossibly, the child's smile widened. "Wow. How long until we get there?"

"Maybe a couple hours," Gohan responded. He eyed Trunks carefully; though he was still grinning, the child was wobbling a little in his flight, a sure sign that he was growing tired. They'd been flying for a little while, now, and it had probably taken its toll. "I think you need a rest, Trunks. We've been flying a long time, and you're getting tired."

"No!" the child protested, shaking his head vehemently. "I'm not tired! I can make it all the rest of the way home without resting!"

Gohan sighed gustily. "Fine, Trunks; have it your way. Just remember what happens when you really do get tired and refuse to take a rest."

"I know!" the child shot back in irritation.

The previous day, Trunks had declined to take a breather, and had ended up losing control of his ki and plummeting toward the ground. Gohan hadn't bothered to catch him---the kid needed to learn to be aware of his own limits---instead letting him slam into the earth. Naturally, since they'd been so high in the air, Gohan had examined Trunks, who lay prone, to ensure that he hadn't suffered any serious injury, and had found nothing more that a few bruises. Credit to the Saiyajin blood for making the kid able to withstand such a fall with only minor wounds. Besides, Gohan would hate to present him to Bulma looking as though he needed serious medical attention.

At the thought of Bulma, Gohan felt a smile stretch his lips. How would she react to his showing up out of nowhere? Once he'd gotten over his self-consciousness at home, he'd found himself mildly amused at his mother's reaction to his sudden appearance; she had a penchant for fainting when she felt extreme shock. Bulma wasn't like that, though; Gohan wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her faint. Whatever the reaction turned out to be, though, he was sure that it would at least be entertaining.

The skyline gradually drew closer, close enough so that it now towered over the horizon just as it should. Gohan spared an occasional glance at Trunks to see how he was holding up; surprisingly, the toddler was holding himself steady, and showed no signs of faltering. Perhaps the knowledge that, in mere hours, he would be reunited with his mother had lent him an extra measure of endurance.

Near the outskirts of the city, Gohan angled his flight downward, and motioned for Trunks to do the same. While Trunks did follow suit, he did not land, as Gohan did; instead, the child opted to float at eye level, frowning.

"Why are we stopping?" he demanded. "We're almost there!"

"We're not stopping," Gohan replied matter-of-factly. "We're just going the rest of the way on foot. People could see us if we keep flying, and from far away, they might think it's the androids; I'd rather not risk starting a panic. Now quit floating; you'll scare someone."

Trunks quietly complied, slowly drifting to the ground. His mood had evidently shifted into something less cheerful than it had been a few moments ago, for though his smile had returned, it was not a broad as it used to be. Gohan chose to ignore that; the kid was happy enough, and would be more so in a short while.

Instead of concentrating on Trunks, Gohan found himself morbidly fascinated with his surroundings. Many buildings stood at only half their actual height, their upper stories lying across the streets in massive heaps. Window frames held no more than a few jagged shards of glass, and severed wires lay across the ground like a tangled mass of dead snakes. A musty odour permeated the air, and Gohan was not pleased that he knew well what this odour signified: death. This thought was confirmed by the sight of a bloodstained body sprawled half inside a doorway. Glancing at Trunks, he found the toddler's face to be expressionless, as though he were completely unaffected by the terrible sights around him. Gohan wouldn't have been surprised if that were the truth; it wasn't that the child had no feeling---and in fact had demonstrated that quite clearly the last time they'd been in a city---it was simply something that he was used to seeing.

As they ventured further, the scenery improved. More buildings stood erect, and all of the people that were around were alive. Clean-up crews operated noisy bulldozers and huge trucks, hauling away any remaining debris. Gohan supposed that the rebuilding process had begun closer to the centre of the city, as that was where many of the most important structures were likely to be situated. It was pleasing to know that he and Trunks would be in an all but fully-restored area of the city when they arrived at Bulma's house; in the West Capitol, there were few buildings that could match the import of the Capsule Corporation.

Having been accustomed to simply flying to the Capsule Corporation compound on visits to Bulma, Gohan wasn't entirely certain whether or not he was truly leading Trunks in the right direction. It wasn't as though he would admit that, however; he didn't want to look clueless.

"I don't know why you wanted to come back here. Look at this place! It's still a mess!"

"That's the whole point. Who would expect it? It's more fun when they're shocked out of their wits. You need to loosen up."

"Would you shut up? You've been bothering me about that for two weeks! I know how to have fun; you're just too childish!"

Gohan's ears pricked at the sound of the two argumentative voices, one female, and the other male. He wasn't sure why he paid so much attention to the inane conversation, which was no louder than any of the others on the crowded streets; for all the world, it just sounded like a brother and sister bickering.

Brother and sister bickering? he thought suddenly, halting in disbelief and grabbing Trunks' shoulder to ensure that the child didn't go on without him. Wearily, he closed his eyes. Oh, Kami, no! Please. They can't be here. They just can't.

"Fine. If you're that bored, then let's start."

Gohan yanked Trunks closer to him. "Get down," he commanded firmly.

"Gohan-san," the toddler protested, "what…"

A building across the street exploded into a monstrous plume of smoke; flaming chunks of concrete launched themselves in all directions. Reacting instinctively, Gohan shielded Trunks with his body; he winced as a stray chunk glanced off his back. Chaos erupted around them; people screamed in terror as well as pain, and frantically rushed to clear the area.

A few smaller explosions sent debris flying, and energized the legs of the fleeing citizens. In the space of a few moments, Gohan and Trunks were the only two people who remained in the area. Gohan lifted his head and turned to visually confirm what was all ready known; across the street stood two slender, denim-clad figures, one a dark-haired male, the other a fair-haired female.

"Gohan-san…" Trunks whispered shakily, and clutched the older boy's leg, trembling.

Gohan said nothing, only tightened his lips. He should have known that this would happen; nothing was ever easy. And things got even more difficult as Android Seventeen and Eighteen's gazes simultaneously fixed upon him, and he tensed, almost, but not quite, into a combat crouch.

All explosions ceased, allowing dust and debris to settle onto the ground. And a harsh wind howled eerily, toying with the hair of the street's only occupants: twin androids, and two demi-saiyan boys.

Blinking wearily, Bulma lifted her head---and much to her annoyance was lifting it from the kitchen table; she had fallen asleep at lunch again. At least this time, she didn't wake up with bits of food sticking to her cheek. Still, she had told her parents not to let her sleep at the table, no matter how tired she may be, and they had clearly not listened to her. Why did she have to be the only responsible person in the family?

She arched her back, and laced her fingers together as she stretched her arms over her head, yawning. Researching the concept for a time machine was tiring work, and she was still suffering from extreme fatigue; of course, it didn't help that she continued to work in shifts that sometimes exceeded twelve hours in length. She couldn't help it; she wanted to complete the project as soon as possible.

Sliding out of her chair, Bulma rubbed her eyes with the back of a fist, and yawned again. This sleepiness was beginning to get to her all ready, but she had work to do. Maybe she should make some coffee…

A vague chattering reached her ears, and she came to the conclusion that her parents---the absent-minded people that they were---had left the radio on when they'd left the kitchen. She loosely remembered that her father had gotten radio communication restored while she'd been busy with her research. Bulma was about to turn off the device, when the announcer said something that froze her, and instantly eliminated her need for coffee.

"… the business district! I repeat, the androids have launched an assault on the business district! It seems so far that most citizens have managed to escape ground zero, but we can't be certain at this point. We urge all of you to take shelter wherever possible, or flee the city. Most exits out of town have been reopened…"

Bulma rushed to the window, anxiously pressing her hands up against the glass; the business district wasn't far from her house, so she ought to be able to see what was happening… there. A huge cloud of smoke billowed thickly into the otherwise clear sky and unnatural light flickered in the distance.

"I don't believe this," she muttered under her breath. "They attacked here just two weeks ago; what are they doing back so soon? They never do this…" Bulma blinked as the unnatural lights suddenly stopped flickering; this was even odder than the fact that the androids had returned so soon after their last attack. For that reason, fear began to flutter more powerfully in her stomach. "What on Earth is going on out there?"

Silence. It was perhaps an abnormal thing when four people were in close proximity, yet here, it reigned. The figure of a dark-haired boy in an orange gi, and with a lavender-haired toddler clinging to his leg, stared into the cold eyes of two teenage figures, not saying a word. The teenage figures stood in a relaxed stance, either not realizing or not caring that the boy had nearly adopted a combat crouch.

Gohan's lips tightened further as Android Seventeen's curved upward in a mischievous smile; Trunks dug his fingers painfully into his leg, but he allowed this. In truth, he didn't want to let go of the toddler any more than the toddler wanted to let go of him; he wasn't going to lose him, even if he had to die to make sure of that.

"Well, well, well," began Android Seventeen. "Isn't it funny how we keep meeting like this?"

Gohan paid only a minimum of attention to the words; his mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to get Trunks away safely. Things would have been easier if he had only one android to deal with; that way, Trunks could slip away while he distracted the enemy in combat. Gohan didn't think that the odds of him fighting both of the androids at once were very high; one of them was bound to go after Trunks, and if that happened, he wouldn't be able to protect the child. If he let something happen to Trunks, he would never forgive himself for it.

"You're awfully quiet over there," said Seventeen. "C'mon. Speak. Don't you have anything to say?"

Android Eighteen took a few steps forward, hands on her hips, and a scowl on her face. "Oh, who cares about talk, anyway? It's cheap. I'd much rather be in action."

"You never let me have any fun," Seventeen pouted like a scolded child. He sighed elaborately. "All right, let's get him."

Gohan tensed into a full combat crouch, hoping that Trunks didn't notice the tremors in his body; the toddler was frightened enough by the androids, so he didn't need to know that Gohan was afraid, too.

Extending her arm out to the side, Eighteen indicated to her brother to stay back. "Back off, Seventeen. This brat made a fool out of me the last time we fought. He's mine. Why don't you play with his little friend?"

A tiny whimper escaped Trunks' lips, and the child clutched Gohan's leg more tightly, breathing shallowly.

"Great. So you're sticking me with the shrimp!" Seventeen growled. "What kind of fun is he supposed to be?"

"You'll think of something; you always did find a way to enjoy the stupidest things."

Seventeen crossed his arms sulkily. "Fine. Just try to save a little bit of Gohan for me, would you? I want to be able to have some fun."

Gohan suppressed a shudder at Eighteen's wicked smile. "Gomen, can't guarantee that. You know that I'm very thorough in my work."

Gasping, Gohan kicked Trunks off his leg as a pseudo-ki blast raced toward him. The extra move cost him though; he didn't have time enough to dodge, or to erect a ki-shield, and the wave of golden light enveloped him. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt---much---and merely propelled him backward, into the concrete wall of the building behind him. He slid to the ground, but almost instantaneously regained his feet, prepared to meet the next attack, and knowing that the first one had been merely Eighteen's way of playing with him.

"Gohan-san!"

Gohan was startled to see Trunks rushing toward him, eyes wide with concern. Didn't the kid realize that it was dangerous? "Trunks, get out of here!"

The toddler's lip trembled. "But what about you?"

Gohan barely reacted in time to block a kick that Android Eighteen aimed at his head; grunting with the effort, he tried to push her away, but had little success. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the android's leg and swung her, over Trunks' head, into and though the wall of the building before letting go.

"I'll catch up!" he growled at the terrified child. "Now, GO!"

He sidestepped another pseudo-ki blast, and leapt into the air, relieved to see Android Eighteen follow suit; he'd been half-afraid that she'd lash out at Trunks when he himself wasn't a convenient target. Gohan ignited his ki, blazing into Super Saiyajin as she soared upward to meet him. He was about to ready a ki blast, when he noticed that Trunks hadn't moved; if Eighteen dodged, there was a disturbingly high probability that he would hit Trunks instead.

Blast it, why is he still here? Gohan thought furiously. I told him to get away!

He doubled over in pain as Android Eighteen's fist slammed into his chest, knocking the breath from him; the blow had caught him completely by surprise. That pain, however, was quickly replaced by a multitude of others as he was struck several more times in rapid succession, all to his stomach, except for the final strike---that one smashed into his cheek and sent him plummeting to the ground.

Dazedly, Gohan pried himself out of the depression that his impact had created in the street, coughing in the settling cloud of dust. He glared up at Eighteen, though in truth, he was angry at himself for getting distracted---he should have been prepared for that attack; it wasn't as though he hadn't seen it coming. At this rate, Trunks' mere presence was going to get him killed.

A startled gasp from Trunks and an amused chuckle from Android Seventeen drew Gohan's attention; the toddler ducked out of the way of a playfully fired beam of pseudo-ki, and then closed his eyes fearfully as Seventeen fired another at him, purposefully just missing his head. Trunks opened his eyes in relieved shock, which turned into panic as yet another beam blew a tiny hole into the sidewalk just in front of his feet; the toddler stumbled backward, falling onto the pile of rubble that marked where a wall used to be.

He's going to be killed! Gohan clambered to his feet, desperate to stop Android Seventeen before he finished Trunks. He only needed a couple of seconds---

A foot caught him between his shoulder blades, forcing him onto the rough pavement and pinning him neatly. Gohan struggled to free himself, but could do little but move his arms and legs uselessly. Despite this, he refused to give up; Trunks needed him---if the child were still alive, that was.

"Do you have any idea how pathetic that was?" Gohan could detect the sneer in Android Eighteen's voice even though he was unable to see it on her face. "I know that you can do better than that! What's your problem today, kid?"

He heard Android Seventeen chuckle. "Not as much fun as you thought he'd be, huh, Eighteen? Maybe he's just worried about his little friend." Footsteps crushed loose gravel; Gohan managed to lift his head enough to see the tips of Seventeen's blue sneakers just in front of his face. "I haven't killed him yet, you know. I think I can get a little more out of him before I do."

Had Gohan been able to breathe comfortably, he would have sighed in relief; Trunks was all right---for the moment, at least. Now, all he had to do was figure out how to get out of his current predicament; if only he could somehow gain some leverage…

"Gohan-san!" he heard Trunks gasp.

"Trunks…" he gritted as Android Eighteen pushed him harder into the pavement. "I told you… to get out of here! Go!"

"B… but…"

"Oh, so you want him gone, do you?" Seventeen asked innocently. "Well, why didn't you just say so? I'll be happy to get rid of him."

Gohan's eyes caught a flickering light above him, and he realized that Seventeen was about to fire at Trunks again, this time aiming to kill. No!

Panicked, Gohan shot his arm out and gripped Seventeen's ankle. With a sharp tug, he pulled the android off his feet, causing him to misfire; the blast of pseudo-ki instead blew apart a nearby building.

Seventeen's foot kicked out of his grasp. "Why you dirty little…"

"Hey!" Eighteen scolded. "Don't even think about it. I told you---he's mine!"

The pressure on Gohan's back lifted, but he just barely managed to sag in relief before a brutal impact to his side sent him flying. He cried out as his head smacked against concrete, and was suddenly engaged in a brief battle to remain conscious; stubbornly, he managed to stay awake, but the effort caused him to slip out of Super Saiyajin.

Through hazy eyes, he saw Trunks leap into the air, Seventeen playfully chasing him. It wasn't until his vision cleared, that Gohan realized his own situation; Android Eighteen was advancing on him with elaborate slowness, grey eyes deadly, as always. He pulled himself to his feet, adopting a fighting crouch. Chancing another look, he saw Trunks and Seventeen fly off, far out of his reach. Gohan shifted his attention back to Android Eighteen, and prayed that the child would somehow be all right.

He couldn't help him now.