Crimson Chaos - Prolog

Author: yEpErEk “I’m not suffering from insanity - I’m just enjoying every minute of it” …sometimes just called Nemesiis ^^ [volatile_vodka@op.pl]
Paring: Every one vs. every one else, which means a biiiiiiig orgy muahahahahahahah… ehem, sowwie I was looking at a different script….soooooo really? Emmm..hmmm… find out for yourself, won’t you? You’ll be surprised…oh and no complains afterwards k? *laughs for no particular reason*
Response: If you r reaaaaaaaally bored, then why not… I won’t mind… I really won’t ^^
Rating/Warnings: If you are able to read this … Quick! Go and check!… upssss too late.. you’ve read it now… so what’s the point of me putting anything in this field for you now eh? Ok, ok… well… it’s long? Plus it’s rather innocent (at this point of the story)…I guess that could be a problem for some of us *shrugs* whatever…

***DISCLAMIER:*** I don’t even own a sane mind, vague sense of reality, the correct time dimension, fundamental abilities of coordination and speech, even the smallest writing talent, not to mention the striking deficiency of sense of humor… so how the hell could I own something like Dragon Ball or any part of it eh? Add to the above a very impractical brain and you’ll know that I would have never come up with the idea for doing ‘the bellow’ for money… oh yeah, and if you are, by any chance, a person with a mind like a razor (sharp and _narrow_) then for your information I also am in no possession of that thing ningens call money, so don’t waste your precious time and just don’t sue me (I wouldn’t have anything suitable to wear to the court anyhow…)… uff there, if you read all that, then I’m: primo - very sorry for you, secundo: impressed and tertio: glad 'cuase you are now well prepared for the true results of mah sick mind ^-^
[P.S. I really don’t understand ppl who hate disclaimers…^-^]


P R O L O G:
Future’s big come back…
…or in other words - how it all began.

***
Today’s episode is sponsored by the letters F, A, T and E…

…and since by now we all learnt how to read at least those few words (and in some cases even to comprehend them) we added another function to this part of the program. So ladies, gentlemen and the rest of us, which as always are the majority, please say hello to…. to…. to… errrrr let just say that today’s episode is also sponsored by the following words:

“God may not necessarily have a sense of humor, but fate does for sure and you never known when it starts telling its newest joke… with you as the punch line” JKR
***

The day was slowly ending - stretching, scratching and yawning, at a leisurely pace it made its way to bed. They flew in absolute silence, but they both welcomed it with open arms, as it meant no words, gestures, smiles or exchanged looks - things, that lately neither one seemed to be good at it in the presence of the other. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from those very quick glances, which made things even worse as he saw Goten’s clasped jaws and the tensed muscles of his face. He knew what he was thinking… Kami, he _didn’t_ know and that was the whole problem.

He stopped suddenly and looked down - below was the Capsule Corporation, its numerous buildings’ roofs glittering in the sun’s last rays. Even though, high in the sky and thus far away from it, he could still manage to see most of the copious flowers in the immense garden - the latest work of Bulma’s mother. Hai, this was his home and no matter what would happen, this will always be his refuge, his own sanctuary…

Goten stopped as well, but further away, so that there was a noticeable distance between them, with his back nearly towards him. He stared at the demi-Saiyan and he bit his lip, not knowing what to do. Finally, he just shrugged and managed to say, putting the most natural smile he could manage.

“Well…I… I guess I’ll see you on our next sparring.”

Goten glanced at him for a brief moment, but quickly looked away. “ Yeah… see ya.” He didn’t make any farewell gesture… just turned fully around and flew off.

He watched as Goten’s figure quickly decreased turning into a black blob, then into a point and finally there was just the crimson sky around him. He sighed heavily. <Kami, what’s going?> Things have changed so much lately… <Nah, it’s just my imagination…> But as he gently lowered himself, he couldn’t stop thinking about it and by the time his feet touched the ground, one little thought, one little, odd thought pricked his mind like an invisible thorn - ok, so something has changed between them and he could accept this as everything alters with time. But there’s always a reason for it… a reason he didn’t know, yet alone what the change was in the first place…

He slowly approached the main door, completely absentminded and nearly walking into a nearby tree. <He’s been avoiding any contact with me and in return, for some oblivious reason I do the same.> Ok, ok… so they _still_ had regular sparring sessions and the combat was always full-contact, but it wasn’t the same thing. After all, it didn’t involve conversations or jokes or laughter or any other typical things that boys of their age did…Fight is a fight and friendship is… well, not a fight for sure. At least it never was in their case. <So why are we eluding each other?> And what’s this strange tension, that he started to sense between them. <Neither me or him has done anything to alter things between us…> or was he wrong?

Another sigh came out of his chest as he walked into the dim house. <Strange…it’s so quiet here and usually _all_ the lights are on… even on the sunniest days… Ahhhh… whatever, lately everything seems to be strange…> He made his way to the lab, this time faster, but just as incautiously as before. <Hai, everything is weird. For example my father and Goku…> It was widely known that the two are the greatest rivals, to some people enemies even, which meant that even an innocent sparring would turn into a lethal battle. And now… <Well, ok. So, they still fight ferociously, but they seem to be playing more than attempting to kill one another.> He even saw them talk and laugh on few occasions. Things are getting better between the two… something no one would have expected. Or believed, as a matter of fact. <Soon, they are going to be best friends.> He chuckled at the idea. <Best friends… like me and Goten.> No, that’s a bad example taking into account how they both been acting lately. Funny… one could say that the better it got between him and Goten… the worse things were. Makes no sense? Well, who said that life made sense in the first place.

He halted by the lab’s door and nearly unconsciously tapped in the code. The doors spread with a quiet ‘hush’ and the familiar fragrance hit his nose. It was the smell of most exotic chemicals mixed with other such bizarre aromas. The whole room truly reeked, but…Home, sweet home… Yet it was even darker here. He slowly started to get worried. Bulma should be in her frenzy mood right now, running around the room at top speed and doing her usual ‘witchcraft’... which always made him wonder how she avoided all the ‘junk’ that was laying around here.

He took a step back and the doors closed automatically in front of him. Sighing again, this time for a different reason, he started his tour around the house, hoping greatly that his search for his mother wouldn’t involve checking out the rest of Capsule’s buildings. Kitchen - no. Bathroom - no. Living room, library, study room - no. Even the bedroom was empty.

“Ok… where the hell is she? This isn’t funny anymore…”

Then he heard a strange noise from… the above. He was on the top floor and higher was only the roof. <It can’t be… Oh Kami, please don’t tell me that she climbed the roof..> He was about to look for a nearest window to check it out, when he saw it - a black hole in the ceiling.

“What the….”

He walked up to it and slowly lifted in the air until he moved through the opening. Suddenly, he was in a different room of which existent he never knew - the attic. It wasn’t a typical one though, as he couldn’t see any junk or old furniture scattered around. As a matter of fact, there was nothing here… not even a window, only a string ladder on the floor and…. Only then did he notice his mother at the end of this peculiar chamber, sitting on the floor, completely motionless. In front of her was a metal box of the type she used to keep all her scientific mambo-jambo in.

He sensed the queer atmosphere, which hang thick and low in this place. A cold shiver run up and down his spine and he felt something bitter in his mouth. He swallowed hard and quietly flew up to the hunched figure. When he was close enough, he saw that Bulma was surrounded by some kind of objects and papers which he wasn’t familiar with. He just hovered silently behind her, but soon enough his mother turned around - startled and with a mixture of shock and fear drawing on her delicate features.

“Tru… Trunks?!” His mother shook her head as if she has seen some kind of ghost and now was checking if it was real. “Is that really you….?” She wanted to touch him, but was too surprised to move.

Before he managed to say anything, she smiled a strange smile and the look on her face changed. “What are you doing here daarin? Aren’t you supposed to be back home later? Or is it me, who just lost count of time?” She really didn’t expect any one, after all her son was supposed to come back the next day, so was his father, who together with Goku and Piccolo went meditating to Dende’s place and her parents were away on tiny holidays since it was the weekend. She didn’t go with them, as she had to work on some vital project, which right now laid, untouched in the lab, gathering dust.

“We… we got tired and decided to call it a day. Slightly earlier than usual.” But his mother seemed not to hear his words, as she started hastily gathering all the stuff and shoving it into the large container. “Mum, what are you doing here? What is all this stuff anyways?” He paused suddenly. “ Hey… I don’t remember this one…” He landed and picked up a photograph from the floor, before his mother managed to stop him.

“Wait a second, I never had such long hair..” This time it was his turn to be surprised.

Bulma made moves, as if trying to snatch the photo out of his hands, but he kept moving it out of her reach, still staring at it and his eyebrows moving higher and higher and…

“It’s a… it’s a photomontage.” She laughed nervously. “I always wondered how you would look like in long hair…so.. here it is.”

“And the sword…?” But he didn’t wait for a replay, as he saw something else. He let his mother yank the picture from him, in order to pick up the object. It was something, that normally he would walk by and never notice, but now…here…where everything seemed to be screaming for attention…

He rolled the small, metallic ball in his fingers, feeling something foreign building up inside of him...yet so familiar…

Bulma’s eyes shot wide open when she saw what he was holding and she nearly attacked her son just to seize it. “Trunks, give that to me, right now! I mean it… please son…” But he just turned around and with a free hand kept his mother at a distance. “I’m begging you… before it’s too late…”

But he never heard the last four words as a burning shock hit his body. The pain was so brutal and unexpected, that he felt his body go all soft and before he could do anything, he fell to his knees. Bulma seeing the grimaces of pain twisting his face, grabbed his shoulders and shook violently… with no effect. She then tried to capture the shining ball, which started to glow faintly. As soon as she did that, she was thrown away at the wall by some invisible force. Feeling her whole body ache and knowing that there’s nothing she can do, Bulma just sat there staring helplessly at her son’s torments.

“Oh.. hold on Trunks… It will be soon over…”

He never felt his mother’s touch, he never saw her fly across the room and he never realized that his eyes started to blink so viciously. All he could feel was something chilly wrapping itself around his brain and then thousands of needles piercing it as if trying to grant access to his mind. He instinctually tried to resist that benumbing force, but he just didn’t know how to defend himself. Suddenly he felt something enfolding his heart and lungs very tightly and soon his heartbeat and breathing slowed down… nearly to a halt.

Then came the dazzling light… so white, so cold, so beautiful…

All of a sudden, hundreds if not thousands of images came dashing through his consciousness, but they were too quick for him to recognize and even those few he did manage to identify, were instantly forgotten.

Slowly, their pace slowed down… or maybe it was just his mind adapting to the situation. The random images started to blend into one, perceptible film-like, train of events…

--- There was a grand city, but it was a ttragic sight, as most buildings were destroyed, debris everywhere, no people, no sound, no life, just him… and the gray sky above him, a dirty sky, a sick sky…a sick, dying world… he was just standing there, with crushing pain building up inside… and the sword… he was holding a heavy sword, but before he could get a closer look at it, everything blurred and suddenly he was in a small, dark room, with little furniture and big table in one of the corners, sitting at it was a familiar, gray-haired figure… horrified, he realized it was his mother, very old and only the eyes remained young… but dimmed by the immense anguish in them, she tried to laugh through the tears streaming down her face and reached out a small, fragile hand to him, but before he managed to grasp it everything blurred again…he felt shattering pain everywhere and as he tried to move, his body protested, already at its limits, metallic taste of blood in his mouth, pounding of the head and howling laughter from somewhere around him… Kami that laugh….two, maybe three dark figures stood in front of him, the undoubted owners of the laugh…he wanted to scream, kill them, just so that they would shut up… without warning a bright red blob came into his view, blocking every thing else… its edges quickly sharpened to form another familiar figure, with specifically colored hair, tall, with pleasant and familiar to every man curves, and the eyes… oh Kami those eyes…---

His body still shook violently and the eyes still blinked constantly, white now, as the pupils have darted up. Thin, red, snake-like lines trickled down his hands, then down his arms and the thick blood dripped to the floor. Suddenly, the silver-red ball, with a loud ‘clank’ dropped and rolled across the floor. A foreign smile crawled across his face. He became stone-still, his stiffened body relaxed and without warning, face forward, he fell to the floor. That happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Bulma didn’t manage to catch him.

Kneeling and trembling she turned around her son and looked at the pale, now so peaceful that almost dead-like face with that strange smile still there and eyes firmly closed. A cascade of tears fell from Bulma’s face onto her son’s forehead and cheeks. Terrified at what had just happened, she wanted to howl, scream, yell…but instead she just hugged his body to hers.

“Trunks… My dear little Trunks…What have I done?! I’m so sorry… This is all my fault…” She slowly moved to and fro, the way you would rock a baby to sleep. “I should have never came here… No, _I should have destroyed all of this long time ago_”

“….I don’t blame you for anything, mother…” Bulma’s eyes shot open with astonishment and she stared at her son, at his amazingly blue eyes. “…Actually… I’m rather glad you kept it all and… that I finally saw it…”

With a grunt he tried to get up, but only with the help of his mother he managed to sit, leaning against the wall. Bulma sat next to him, firmly clasping his hand.

“Did… did you…?”

“Yes… I met him..” he laughed quietly. “ I mean… I saw him and his world… with my eyes…. And I’m sorry that I have never met him in real life…” He sighed. “Do you come here often?”

His mother avoided his gaze, looked down and started to fiddle with the fabrics of her clothes. “I know that I have you and I _do_ love you more than life itself, but… sometimes I fell like I have lost my second son… and… oh god, Trunks I’m really sorry that all of this happened…”

He put a finger to her lips. “Shhhhh. I already said that it’s not you’re fault… I’m just hurt that you haven’t showed this to me earlier… that you didn’t trust me…”

“Oh no! Trunks you know that it isn’t like that…” She now stared again into his eyes, which were now somehow changed. “It’s just that he told me to keep it as a big secret and…”

“He wouldn’t have left that if he didn’t expect me to see it one day…” They both looked at the harmless-looking ball, which in some unknown way has became its original color again…with no traces of his blood on it. “I know that it was appropriated for me… after all I suspect you held it many times and nothing like this has happened.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “Or am I wrong, mother?”

“You’re right. It never did that to me… and I knew what it was, but I never realized that it was for you…” She glanced at the ball and her grip of his hand loosened slightly. He waited patiently for her to continue, in the mean time trying to ignore the stampede of thoughts in his now cramped mind.

“No one knows about his last visit, which he paid only to me… he was so sad then, even though we both knew that everything will turn out good in the future… Maybe he knew that with the future changed and all the evil gone, that he would too cease to exist? Whatever it was, he wanted me to remember him, so he gave me all these photos and personal belongings… his small treasures…” She smiled at the thought, but then became serious again. “The last thing he gave me, was that ball. He said that it was something that I designed myself…not long before I died.” She paused again. “He said that it carried all his thoughts, emotions, memories…”

“Everything he was made up of….” Bulma slowly nodded her head at his words. “But he never said that _I am_ the one who will… will be allowed into his world…” He looked at his mother with compassion. “And through all those years… you tried very hard to access it….”

His mother looked at the ball again, this time pulling away her hand from his. There seemed to be some hidden hate for the innocent-looking object in her eyes. “But I always failed…” She said it slowly, very slowly…

He instinctually hugged his mother tight, suddenly realizing the true nature of her pain. She had lost something very dear and precious to her…and the remains of it were so close, so near… yet somehow, ceaselessly too far..

<As if he didn’t want her to reach him…> He felt his mother’s wet face, press hard against his shoulder. He caressed her silky hair, trying to comfort her and felt strange thoughts waking up in him.

<You bastard…! How could you have done this to her? Tortured her like that for all those years…!> His lips pursed and he felt the blood draining from his face. The rage slowly built up, but then some memories flushed in his mind and he calmed down instantly, his whole body relaxing. <I’m sorry… I didn’t realized…now I know…you didn’t want things to turn out this way…>

---When he came back he was so much in paiin that his mind was fogged and he couldn’t think straight with only one desperate thought pounding in his head…--- <Oh Kami, that pain…>

He suddenly shivered as an echo of that anguish run through his own body…no.. through his heart and soul… Bulma looked up, only to see an absent look in her son’s eyes…

“Trunks…?”

---He heard her say that so many times andd yet that time it sounded like a final farewell… just like any other words… He didn’t care what would happen with the future, as sub-consciously he knew that his world would still exist somewhere… but he no longer wanted to be a part of it… or of any other one…--- <That suffering in his eyes that you saw mother wasn’t what you thought it was… it was the agony of loss>

“Trunks, what’s wrong?” Bulma shook her son gently as she saw the tears appear in his eyes.

---He saw his world fall to its knees undeer the merciless hand of those creatures, but he also saw it finally, but very slowly recover. He knew the bitter taste of defeat and humiliation. He knew what it was to cry and he learnt not to be ashamed of those tears - the last sign that he was still alive. He had lost every one he knew, his mother included and yet it was the death… it was _her_ death that made him shutter to pieces… pieces that no one could ever again put together…--- <She was your only sunshine in that dusky realm, the only thing that made your breathe and see… and fight…and yet she too slipped through your fingers… your weren’t powerful and might enough to protect her…!!!>

“Nooooooooooooo!!”

******

The consciousness crawled back into his taut mind. He opened his eyes and saw the worried face of his mother above. He didn’t even have to ask what happened… he knew just too well. Actually, it was Bulma who needed the explanations right now.

“I…it…the memories…” He couldn’t find the right word for it.

“I know, I know… there was too much of them all at once…” She smiled with sympathy.

“No…it’s something else.” Slowly the last seconds of reality, before he passed out, came back to him. His eyes opened wide, when he realized the truth. “Mother… I…”

“Yes Trunks?”

“For a second I _was_ him…we… we exchanged our… Oh Kami, my head!” He closed his eyes and touched his temples. If he thought that he felt real pain while holding that ‘evil thing’… well, it was _nothing_ compared to this.

“Trunks, are trying to tell me that…? It’s not possible… with everything that we have changed here, his world together with him as well, it all has… Trunks, he doesn’t exist anymore…”

“Yeah, of course I know that he has killed himself…” He said that automatically, not fully aware of his words, too concentrated on all those annoying thumps, bangs and clangs.

“WHAT?!” Bulma screeched so high and loud, that he was on brink of passing out again. He looked as her with condemnation, but seeing he face he realized what he had said. <Shit…!!!>

“What I meant…” <What the heck am I supposed to tell her now? Surely I can’t reveal the truth, even if I already started… Damn it! Me and my big mouth…>

“Yes Trunks? I’m waiting…” She looked veeeeeery angry, but maybe it was just the shock.<Think you baka, think…>

The pang wasn’t helping him much, but finally an idea appeared in his weary mind.

“Well, think about it…” His mother’s piercing gaze was about to drill holes in him. “He came back here, helped Goku and the rest in order to change the future and yet he was fully aware of the consequences…” Bulma blinked few times, still staring. “He knew what would happen if he changed the past. For me its was in some way an act of suicide, no matter what reasons and intentions were behind it…” There was a long moment of silence, then she sighed and finally looked away. <Uff…I’m safe… I think…>

“I don’t really understand your line of thinking, but… I guess you are just tired, that’s all.” She helped him to stand up.

They stood there, not really sure what to do next. There were still things laying around, so Bulma started to clean up. He walked up to the ball and just stared at it.

<Will it start that whole thing again if I touch it?> By the time, he decided to pick it up, his mother finished stuffing everything back into the box and now was looking at her son.

He sighed and made physical contact with the shiny thing. He felt, now familiar, burning shock run down his body… <Kuso, not again…> …but it stopped just as abruptly as it had started… and when he opened his eyes, he saw in his hand only gray ash. They stared at each other for a moment and then Bulma shrugged.

“I guess it was designed to do that…”

“I’m sorry… I know that it was a memento for you…” <Or even something more…>

“Tis ok. I think we should go downstairs and clean up. Especially you… and I better check if the wounds on your hands aren’t serious.” Only then did he fell a funny tickling in his palms and was surprised to see the now dry blood on them.

“And you should also check your head, mum.” She touched the back of her head and felt a large, painful bump on it.

“Ah wells…Accidents do happen.” They both laughed, even though neither was amused.

********

As they walked through the house, Bulma kept asking questions about what he has seen and he had to keep lying, as he knew that what his mother had heard from the one from the future, was very different from what he has seen just about an hour ago. She was very happy, nearly excited and he hoped that maybe she will stop being so sad about the fact that she’ll never see the other one again.

They entered the kitchen and he sat down by the table, whilst his mother grabbed some cups and a bottle of juice.

“Better not tell your father about it all…”

“Yeah I know… besides he wouldn’t care much anyhow…” He tried very hard to ignore all those alien thoughts about how great Vegeta really was and how much he had loved him, which were obviously not his own thoughts.

“I wouldn’t care about what…?” They both jumped at the sound of the cold and calm voice.

Vegeta stood in the doorway, arms folded, eyes narrowed and a familiar scowl on his face. He slowly examined the two very pale faces before him. He then looked at the blood stained fists of his son, which he didn’t hide in time. He saw Bulma’s trembling hand as she poured the juice into one of the cups, which soon over-spilled and orange liquid quickly covered the white table. He inhaled the strong smell of his sons sweat and Bulma’s recent fear.

“Care about what?” He repeated the question, this time his voice more compelling than usual.

“Mum!” He grabbed his mother’s hand when he felt something wet falling onto his pants. Bulma looked at the mess she had done and grabbed a wiper in order to clean up. He felt his father’s gaze on him and slowly looked up to meet Vegeta’ eyes. His look… it was so… <Please don’t do that to me now father… Not right now…>

“Well? Onna answer me!” Bulma stopped the vicious scrubbing of the dining table and glanced at Vegeta. She then looked at her son, who under his father’s stare was about to break. Seeing what was happening she quickly answered.

“Oh well… It’s rather stupid actually.” Vegeta blinked, his son swallowed and she laughed rather falsely. “Trunks was helping me in the lab and we… we had a small accident and…” But Vegeta wasn’t listening anymore, as he had turned around and walked off.

There was long silence.

Finally Bulma dropped the wiper onto the table and smiled. “That was close… well, don’t worry about it, Vegeta will soon forget about this…”

He only sighed…

But would _he_ ever forget that pain, all those memories and the dreadful truth, that he knew no one could ever know about, for the other one’s sake….

…but did he actually want to?


THE END

yEpErEk
[to be continued…somewhere, somehow]