"And in today's headlines the disappearance of yet another town..."  Goten stared at the TV in morbid fascination.  Another 'disappearance'.  <Yeah, right. Towns don't just drop off the face of the earth - at least, not without help.>  Help.  He winced.  <Okay, bad choice of words.>

A startled gasp behind him brought him back to reality, and he hastily hit the off switch for the TV.  <Not fast enough, though.>  Trunks stood motionless in the doorway, wide blue eyes staring at the now blank screen.  "Trunks - " he stretched out a hand towards his friend.  Trunks was a year older than him, and Goten could remember being teased for needing the comforting hand of his older brother Gohan when they were younger.  Trunks had never needed such comfort. Not then.  <But that was before - >

Trunks glanced down briefly at the hand on his shoulder, then turned glistening eyes towards Goten.  "Why is this happening?"  A single tear escaped its confinement, and Trunks caught his breath, attempting to restrain the remaining flood.  He stumbled backwards, catching himself on the doorframe as his knees buckled, and slowly lowered himself to the ground.  "Why?" he pleaded, despair lacing the single word, each damp tear, every shallow breath into a delicate web of sorrow.

Goten knelt before his heartbroken friend, wrapping his arms around Trunks' shoulders in a now familiar posture.  "I don't know, Trunks," he pulled his friend towards him, stroking pale hair, soothing his shuddering body.  "I just don't know."

"It happened again."  Goten stared at the food on his plate.  He wasn't particularly hungry.  Trunks hadn't shown up for dinner at all.  <I'll have to take something to him later.  He doesn't eat enough as it is.>  He looked up to see Gohan staring at him in shock.

"I didn't even feel it this time," he murmured dazedly.  "How could I not feel it?"

"It was only a small town, this time."  <Only a couple of thousand people, only a few hundred families.  It could have been worse.  It has been worse.>

"But even a small town..." Videl sighed and shook her head, looking up at the brothers from feeding her daughter, Pan.  "So many lives wasted.  What does he hope to gain from all this?"

"Gain?" Gohan snapped.  "How can anyone gain from this situation?  There is no point to it.  Perhaps he hopes to die himself.  Kami knows I will kill him the first chance I get for what he's done to this planet..."

"It's been three years, niichan."  Goten's words were emotionless; he stared sightlessly at the plate before him.  "Three years, and you haven't had a single chance.  He'll never let you have a chance."

Gohan sighed, resting his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands.  "Three years."

Three years since that day.  The day Piccolo died.  The day Dende died, and Mr Popo with him.  The day they found Trunks on their doorstep in a bruised and broken pile, well on his way to bleeding to death.  The last day any of them had seen Vegeta.

Vegeta The name was a curse to them, had been so for three years. <And every week it gets worse.>  Goten glanced at his dinner one final time before standing up.  "I'm going to see Trunks," he answered Videl's questioning gaze.  "Maybe I can convince him to eat something."  She nodded sympathetically before returning her attention to Pan, who was watching them all with serious wide eyes.  Gohan didn't even look up.  Making sure Trunks ate something had become one of Goten's daily chores, as neither Gohan nor Videl were able to convince him to do so.  <And there's no-one else now.>

So many people he knew had died in the past few years, so many close family and friends.  <Kaasan, Trunks' grandparents, Dende and Piccolo...  At this rate we'll all be dead before another decade's over> he mused morbidly as he headed up to the room he shared with Trunks.  Capsule Corp was more than large enough for them to have separate rooms, but Trunks had insisted when they had moved in, almost two years ago now.  <When Kaasan died.  It was good being near Trunks -  he knew what it was like to loose a mother, he understood how much I missed her.>

Chichi's death had been the result of a car accident during one of her infrequent visits to the capitol.  The reports stated that an apparently drunk driver had crashed into her aircar, knocking both their cars into the path of oncoming traffic.  She'd been dead before they could cut her out of the wreckage.  They'd never caught the drunk driver.

Gohan had been heartbroken after losing first Piccolo and then his mother in such a short space of time.  Only Videl's steady support, and their baby daughter, had let him pull himself together to get on with his life.  He had thrown himself into his scholastic studies, determined to live up to his mother's expectations in order to honour her memory.  He had also done his best to support his younger brother, who had lost the only parent he had ever known...

<But he didn't have to - I had Trunks.>

It had been a strange turnaround of events, Trunks being the one to comfort him, listening when he spoke of the loss he felt, holding him in the rare moments he couldn't stop the tears.  <He was always there, and I was never alone.>

He paused, just outside the door.  <He was alone too long.  Vegeta doesn't count.  He didn't give a damn.>

Goten wasn't surprised to find Trunks curled up on his bed, unblinking eyes focused on the photograph he grasped in a desperate grip.  He sat on the bed behind him, reaching around to run his finger down the glass which encased the photo, giving its brittle protection to the precious memory it encased.

"You keep staring at this and you're going to wear it out," he spoke quietly, sad amusement tinting his voice.  "I'm surprised you don't have it burned into your brain by now."

"Oh, it is," Trunks assured him in a soft whisper.  "But seeing it in my head, and seeing it here in my hand - it's very different, you know?"

"Hai, I know."  He rested one hand on Trunks' shoulder, squeezing it lightly.  Trunks tilted his head up to face his friend, one hand relaxing from its grip long enough to brush long pale hair out of the way of deep blue eyes.

"I can barely remember that day now, Goten.  Soon, I'll forget everything about what it was like then - and that scares me."  He turned once more to the picture he held so dear, the one photo he had of himself with his both parents, on the occasion of his eighth birthday.  He and his mother were both smiling, she with one arm wrapped around him, the other firmly holding onto his scowling father.

It was the only picture he had left of them.  The rest had been destroyed, some by Trunks himself after he'd recovered from the severe beating Vegeta had inflicted upon him, but most by Vegeta after Bulma's death - scant weeks after the photo had been taken.

He'd hunted down every picture of her he could find, destroying them all, as if he could erase the past by eradicating them, erase the memories of possibly the only person he had ever cared for, and who had wounded him by succumbing to a fatal heart attack.

<Selfish bastard.  He wasn't the only one to suffer from her death.  Everyone missed her, especially Trunks.>  But if he couldn't have her, neither would anyone else.  <At least Trunks had a better reason for wanting to forget.>  The target of Trunks' anger had been Vegeta - not that there were many photos of him to begin with.  Now only this single photo survived, which Goten had kept hidden until he was sure that Trunks would not destroy it too, as he had his own copy.

<I know he doesn't want to forget his mother, and he shouldn't forget Vegeta either - at least, not while he's still alive.> No, forgetting Vegeta would be a very bad idea.

<Well, I have other more immediate things to worry about.>  He stood up, stretching a little.  "I have that history assignment to work on.  Help me with it?"

"Uhn."  Trunks slowly uncurled, and returned the photo to its place on the dressing table next to his bed.  He paused a minute, blinking up at Goten, before getting to his feet and leading the way to the study where Goten did his schoolwork.

<And where Trunks studies whatever he wants to.> Goten mused as he followed his friend out of the room.  Trunks didn't go to school; he hadn't for six years.  Vegeta hadn't cared when his ten year old son had started skipping classes, and after the first few attempts by the school authorities to ensure that Trunks obtained an education he had destroyed the entire building that housed the school administration in a highly successful attempt to get them to  leave him alone.  It had taken Gohan a month to arrange a suitable compromise: Capsule Corp had built a new administration block for the school, and Trunks attended school only for exams.  As long as he passed them, no-one would attempt to send him to school.

<If they came around here now they'd probably rather send him to a hospital.  If he loses any more weight I swear I'll be able to see right through him.>  Goten pulled his chair back from the desk, wincing as it scraped harshly across the floor, and settled himself down to study.  <Of course, studying's impossible without a little brainfood.>  He smiled as Trunks perched on the chair beside him, one hand automatically digging into the enormous pile of chocolates and candybars which Goten had painstakingly convinced him were an absolutely necessary part of studying.  <Only took me a couple of weeks, too.  Although how he's managed to survive on sweets for the past couple of years I really have no idea...>

Trunks was little more than whipcord and bone, and although a year older than Goten, he was also a good two or three inches shorter.  His pale skin from several years of hiding from the sun, and naturally pale hair which he inherited from his mother combined to give him a washed out appearance, like a well worn shirt that had been through the wash too many times.  Only his eyes gave any indication of brightness, and that was from their deep blue colour alone.  For they too were marked with the griefs he had borne, dark rings accentuating their depths and the pain and sorrow lurking within them.

<And most of it has a single name - Vegeta.>

"So do tell me, what do you know about the events which led to the renaming of our city after the Glorious Champion Of The World?"  Goten lifted one eyebrow at Trunks, a tiny smirk resting on his lips.

"You've got to be joking."  Trunks blinked in disbelief.  "That's your assignment topic?"  He blinked again as Goten nodded solemnly.

"It was either that or do a paper on my own family history."  A touch of amusement lightened normally serious blue eyes.

"Your brother married Mr Satan's daughter, Goten.  You're still doing your family history."

"Yeah, I know.  But I feel happier lying about the Cell Game than talking about my parents."  He shrugged.  Trunks eyes narrowed.

"Lying is all perspective," he informed his friend.  "Whatever you say about the Cell Game - somewhere it may just be true."

Goten frowned.  "What do you mean?"

"Think of that version of me who came back to stop your father dying from that heart disease.  By coming back in time, he altered history and created our timeline; and also the timeline which Cell came from.  So we know of three different timelines."  Trunks leaned towards Goten, his eyes brightening with excitement.  "But what if there were more?"

"More?"

"More timelines, created by other time travelers.  Or perhaps - perhaps the time-traveling isn't necessary to create alternate worlds."  Trunks paused, waiting for Goten's response to that statement.  Goten blinked.

"You've lost me," he admitted.  Trunks sighed, sweeping long hair out of the way with a flick of his wrist.

"What if every time someone had to make a decision there were certain possible choices they could make.  Each possibility leads to another decision, and another, until you get a huge series of alternate worlds, of alternate dimensions. You following this?"

"I think so," he nodded cautiously.  "But there would be an infinite number of possible worlds out there..."

Trunks chuckled.  "There could even be a world out there where Mr Satan truly did defeat Cell."

"That must be some world."  Goten snorted at the thought of that idiot ever defeating someone it took Gohan's whole power to destroy.  "But this isn't getting my assignment done."

"Isn't it?"  Trunks had a mysterious little smile on his face.  "What if you could go to that world?  You could then give a truthful account of Mr Satan beating Cell."

"And just how am I going to get there?" he queried.  "Did you build a time machine or something that can hop through dimensions while I wasn't looking?"

"And what if I did?"  Trunks' smile was a little wider.  "Want to visit a world where your parents are still alive?"

Trunks' workshop was ordered chaos.  <I'm sure he knows where everything is, not to mention what everything is, but I wouldn't touch anything in here without him around.>  Trunks had picked up from where his mother left off, designing and building new inventions for Capsule Corp.  Trunks was officially the President of Capsule Corp, but he left most of the business management up to the managing board.  It was after all, as he had pointed out, what they were paid to do - and they had done well enough since Trunks had inherited the family business.

<He inherited the family brains, too.>  Goten picked up a small metallic sphere from a bowl on the counter containing a half-dozen similar looking objects.  <For all I know this could be anything from a holographic projection unit to a simple juggling ball.>

"Goten!"  Trunks shrieked.  Goten froze.  Trunks spun around from the computer terminal he had been sitting at with his back to where Goten was standing, glancing around wildly, his expression panic-stricken until he saw Goten standing as still as an ice-statue with the silver sphere resting on his palm.  He relaxed, letting his whole body go limp in the chair, heaving a sigh as he covered his eyes with his hands.  "Don't do that to me!  You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Do what?"  Goten didn't dare move, uncertain as to what it was he had done.  Trunks levered himself off of the chair with both arms, and walked over to stand next to him, plucking the sphere out of his hand.

Trunks' presence suddenly vanished from Goten's senses.

"What the hell is that?" he demanded.  "I can't sense your ki anymore!"

"Exactly."  Trunks shrugged.  "It's a ki-shield.  It hides your ki from everyone else by kind of blending it into the surroundings.  It's better than just hiding your ki because it doesn't matter how much power you're using, it'll still shield your power level from everyone else.  And you can still sense ki through the shield." Trunks tossed the sphere, catching it lightly.  "Try to sense my ki again."

Goten narrowed his eyes as he strained his senses to the limit.

"I can sense something where you are," he replied after a few moments.  "It's faint, but it's there."  Trunks nodded.

"That's the blending effect - only there isn't anything else alive in here besides the two of us, so it can't hide the fact that there's someone in here besides you.  If we were outside, though, you probably wouldn't be able to sense my presence at all.  People are the best for blending, but it works with any living thing."  He flipped the sphere over to Goten.  "I'm still working on it, though."

"It seems to be working pretty well to me!"

"Uhn.  But I'm trying to make it a shield in truth - one that can either absorb ki attacks or deflect them."  He turned back to the computer.

"But why would you need -" Goten started, before his brain kicked into gear.  "Oh."

"Keep that one if you want," Trunks resumed his typing.  "It just needs to touch your skin for it to work."  Goten stared at his friend's back for a moment  before slipping it into his pocket.  He moved to get a clear view of the screen.

"So where's this dimension hopper of yours?" he asked.

"You're looking at it."

"I am?" Goten's tone was skeptical.

"The computer analyses the frequencies of different dimensions and calculates the power distribution required for transportation of objects between them.  And don't ask me for the simple version," Trunks turned to give a mock scowl to his best friend.  "That was the simple version."

Goten grinned at him.  "Then I won't ask.  So we just sit here, push a few buttons and get zapped to another universe?  I'd hope they had chairs waiting for us in this spot!"

"Baka," Trunks snorted.  "I set it up so that the transportation can be triggered by a remote."  He open the metal box lying next to the terminal to reveal six devices which, as Goten pointed out, seemed to bear a marked resemblance to wristwatches.

"They are," Trunks informed him.  "Among other things."

"Such as dimensional transportation devices?"

"Exactly."  He handed two to Goten.  "Strap them on each wrist."

"You need two of them to work it?" he asked as he complied with the instruction.

"No, but this way you won't lose the spare,"  Trunks slipped his own pair on, considering the point. "Unless you get your arm chopped off," he added.

"Gee, thanks, that's just what I wanted to hear."  Goten turned serious eyes towards his friend.  "So, where did you want to go?" he asked him.  <I wonder where he's been already - he must have had something in mind when he built this.>

"I thought we might go see your father."  Trunks tilted his head questioningly.  "You do want to see him, don't you?"

"Of course I do."  Goten folded his arms across his chest.  "But why do you want to see him?"

Trunks' eyes widened a trifle.  <Bingo.>

"I - I just thought -"

"Trunks," Goten admonished.  "Talk to me."

He lowered his head, long wisps of pale hair obscuring Goten's view of his face.  Goten brushed them aside, one hand lifting his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes.

Trunks sighed.

"Remember what Gohan was telling us about the way our fathers always fought?  I thought that maybe if he sensed your father's ki..." he trailed off, blue eyes gazing anxiously into Goten's.

"I see," Goten murmured thoughtfully, releasing Trunks' chin.  "We'd have to be certain that he's stronger than him, though.  From what Niichan says that there wasn't all that big a difference between the two of them, and it's been fifteen years since then.  I don't want to make Niichan bury our father again.  He's been through enough as it is."

Trunks nodded.  "I thought of that already," he agreed.  "And I think I've found a version of your father who we can ask."

<Ah. I was right.>

"You haven't talked to him yet?"

"No, I've just watched them.  That's all!"  Wide blue eyes emphasized this point.

"All right," Goten acquiesced.  "Now what?"

"I've set the computer to give us a certain number of options, the most important of which is the purple button."  Trunks pointed out the little button on the watch.

"What does it do?"

"It gets us back home.  The green one sends us to whichever dimension we've selected. Got that?"

"Uh huh."  Goten looked up from his investigation of his new watch.  "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Why?" Trunks frowned.  "Don't you think I know what I'm doing?"

"Oh, I trust you," Goten reassured him.  "But I can't help thinking that something's going to go wrong."  He shook his head.  "Maybe we should tell Gohan."

Trunks gave him a flat stare.  "I'll leave him a note."  He grabbed a pen and pad, scribbled something swiftly and stuck it to the computer screen.  "Let's go!"  He grabbed Goten by the hand, dragging him out of the lab, outside Capsule Corp and into the nearby countryside.

Beneath the bright afternoon sun, two boys stood.

A flash of green light.

A wandering breeze.

The boys were gone.

"Vegeta!"  The name was a violent hiss coming from between Goten's clenched teeth as he prepared to attack  the source of so much pain, propelling himself upwards with his ki -

- only to be dragged back down to earth by hands which, despite their frail appearance, were more than powerful enough to hold him still.

"Wrong Vegeta, baka!  Hide your ki!"  Trunk's frantic whisper penetrated the blind fury which had come over him.  He breathed deeply, slowly relaxing his muscles, lowering his power level.

"Sorry," he breathed.

"It's okay," Trunks told him.  "I kind of did the same thing when I first encountered another version of him."  Trunks released him from his tight grip, and he looked around, taking in his surroundings.

The scenery hadn't changed much.  A few out of place trees, some buildings that differed in design...

<And Vegeta's ki, at a workout level, coming from Capsule Corp.>  He glanced at Trunks.  Who was watching him with unblinking eyes.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine.  You?"

"Fine."

He nodded, considering.

"Your place or mine?"

In the distance they felt a familiar ki rise to match Vegeta's level.  Trunks shuddered.  Moment's later they were headed to Goten's home.  Or rather, what his home could have been.

"So what's this world like?"  Goten slowed up a little, so that they could talk comfortably.

Trunks was quiet a moment, before replying,  "Nobody's dead."

<Nobody?  Then Kaasan's alive too, and Bulma...>  He gave Trunks a sidelong glance.  "Anyone new?"

He waited.

"This Trunks has a sister," Trunks answered eventually.  "Bra."

"Ah."

"Her father adores her."

"Oh."  <And you're jealous.>  "What about this world's versions of us?"  He couldn't help it - he just had to ask.

"Trunks is a brat."  <Definitely jealous.>

"And Goten?" he prodded.

Trunks sighed.  "He seems happier than you."

"He should be." Goten shrugged philosophically.  "But that doesn't matter.  After all, with all the possible timelines, not everyone could have the best lives.  Somebody has to get the raw deals."

Trunks chewed his lip.  "Uhn.  But that doesn't mean we can't improve our hand."

They continued in silence.  It wasn't long before they neared their destination.  They dropped to the ground, Trunks lifting one finger to his lips for silence, and slipped one hand into his pocket, bringing out a small, shiny sphere.  Goten blinked, then nodded in acknowledgment, grasping his own ki-shield.  Stealthily the made their way towards the house which held such hope for them both.

<I can sense Kaasan in there! And me!  Heh, weird...>

Goten suddenly stiffened as a new ki appeared in the house  <That ki - whose -?>

Trunks gazed back at him in concern.  "Goten?" he whispered.

<So familiar - but I don't know... Is it...?>  He crept past Trunks, up to the window, to take a quick glance -

- that turned into a deeply absorbed stare.  He stopped breathing.

A tall, well built man was standing next to him.

Two copies of spikey black hair, smiling dark eyes, irrepressible grin...

Son Goku.

<Tousan!>

<That's Tousan!  And me...>

A sharp poke at his ribs brought him back to reality.  He ducked swiftly out of sight of the occupants of the house.

"Breathe, baka!" Trunks whispered the command into his ear, concerned hands gripping his shoulders.

Goten flashed him a quick grin.  "Keep calling me that, and I'll answer every time somebody calls it out."

He gained a brief smile in response as Trunks released him, sinking back against the wall beneath the window.  Goten joined him, drawing his knees towards his body in a close hug.

"This is just too weird," he chuckled, carefully keeping his voice low.  "I mean, I've seen photos of him, but..."

"I know," Trunks told him quietly.  "It's just not the same, is it?"

The minutes passed by, the two of them wrapped in silence, listening to the happy family that lay just on the other side of the thin wall.  Chichi was scolding both husband and son for their neglect of the household chores she had assigned to them, instead going out to 'play'.

<Just like my Kaasan...  Only my father never appeared out of thin air...>

"How'd he just appear like that?"

"He can teleport.  Useful trick."

"Hnnn."

Fabulous aromas wafted outside from the kitchen, while inside the house Chichi was ordering her family about, preparing to have guests over for dinner.

"So, what do we say to him?"  Goten finally asked.

"He's your father."

"And I've never seen him before today!"  His outburst earned him a hasty signal from Trunks to keep his voice down.  "So what do we do?  We can't just walk in there and say 'Hi, we're from a parallel world which Vegeta is single-handedly destroying a piece at a time, and we want you to be bait to lure him out so that we can stop him'!"

"Why not?"  Trunks raised one eyebrow questioning.  "That's basically what Mirai Trunks did, and he helped him.  Besides, we may be from a different dimension, but you're still his son."

Goten snorted.  "Mirai Trunks was warning him of what would happen in his own timeline.  Whatever happens in ours, it won't involve theirs unless they come with us.  Besides, we don't even know if Mirai Trunks visited this timeline."

"I'm pretty sure he did."  Trunks flipped his hair out of his eyes.  "If you don't want to involve them, just say so.  As long as they don't know that we were here their world won't be affected by whatever curse is on ours."

"Trunks..."  Goten sighed.

"I know, I know," Trunks cut him off.  "But it sure seems like it's cursed."

"Uhn.  I guess I have to agree there."

"Or maybe it's just me..."  The words were barely audible, but to Goten they may as well have been blasted into his ear.

<Oh shit! Not this again!>  He turned to Trunks in alarm, grabbing his wrists and twisting the pale skin upwards to the light, oblivious to the flash of silver that dropped to the ground.  Trunks' ashen flesh was marred by several thin white lines running from palms to elbows.  <I don't see any new scars...>  The last had been made two years ago.  <He came very close then, about as close as when Vegeta had - >  He shook his head, letting go of his wrists.

Trunks was scowling at him.

"I made you a promise, Goten.  I will not break that promise."  Blue eyes were darkened with emotions Goten could sense roiling beneath the surface.

"Good," he replied, relieved.  "Because if you do, I swear I'll join you."

"Baka."

"Uh huh."

Cries of greeting came from the other side of the house, startling them both with their suddenness.

<That's Bulma! And Vegeta's with her... I can't believe I didn't sense him!>  One glimpse of Trunks' bloodless face told him that he wasn't the only one who had been caught unawares...  <No wonder we need help - we must really be slipping...>  He lifted himself up to cautiously peer in through the window once more.

"NANI!?!"

Goten almost tripped in his haste to face the source of the sudden outburst, Trunks hastily getting to his feet beside him.

It was Trunks.  With short hair.  Taller.  Tanned skin.  And he didn't look like a walking skeleton.

<He looks so much healthier he may as well be a different person.  I guess in some ways he is.>  Goten's gaze flicked between the two.  <Although they look pretty similar at the moment!>  The two versions of Trunks had identical expressions on their faces - a curious blend of horror and rapt fascination.

"Hey, what's going on?"  Goten blinked at the sound of his own voice coming from someone else.  From himself, in fact.  He blinked again.  So did the second Goten, as he froze just outside the back door.  For a long moment all four of them looked back and forth amongst themselves.  Then the second Goten started to laugh.

"Snap!"

Both Trunks stared at him.  "Baka!" they cried in unison, then turned to glare at each other suspiciously.

<Heh, they sound pretty similar now, too!>  He started to chuckle, and soon joined the other Goten, succumbing to gales of laughter.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Vegeta snarled, stepping out of the house.  He was followed out of the house by the curious Chichi, Goku, and Bulma holding a miniature copy of herself by the hand.  They all stopped to stare at the two pairs of laughing and glowering boys.  Both Gotens made a concerted effort to calm themselves, although the one by the door was still suffering from a few fits of laughter.

"I sensed Goten's ki out here as well as in the house," the short-haired Trunks growled.  "I found them out here!"

<Oops... must have dropped the ki shield...> He bent swiftly to retrieve it, returning it to his pocket.

"Eh? Mirai Trunks, what're you doing back here?"  Goku wondered, tilting his head in puzzlement at the long-haired Trunks.

"That's not Mirai Trunks, baka," Vegeta snapped.  He stalked toward the boy in question, who was flinching away from the attention -

- only to be blocked by a now-serious faced Goten, who placed himself between them.

"What's your problem?"  Vegeta scowled furiously at him.

"You are," Goten informed him coolly. He glanced back at his Trunks, who had lowered his head so that his pale hair hid his face like a curtain.  "Or rather, our world's version of you."

"Your world?"  Bulma questioned.  "You come from a different time?"

Goten shook his head.  "Same time, different timeline," he explained.  "I'm not sure what happened in this world's history, but -" he looked around at them all, "- out of everyone here, besides the two of us," he nodded at his Trunks, "only Vegeta is still alive in our world."  <And boy, do I wish he wasn't.>

Half a dozen gasps accompanied the shocked faces he was presented with upon stating this declaration.  Only the little girl - <must be Bra> - was unmoved.  Even Vegeta's expression revealed his surprise - <And maybe something more?>

"How did we - they - die?" Chichi asked tentatively, concern evident in her tone.  Goten sighed.

"Tousan died fighting Cell - "

"Heh! So did I!" Goku interrupted.  "But I got resurrected eight years later when we had to fight Buu!"

"I don't think we had anyone named Buu in our timeline," Goten paused, considering.

"You'd know if you had,"  the other Goten assured him.  "But our parents...?"

"Bulma died of a heart attack eight years ago -"

"Nani!?!"  He was interrupted again, by Bulma this time.  "I'm too young to have died of a heart attack back then!  And if I died then -" she looked down at her little daughter, then back up at Goten.  He shook his head, confirming that Bra had not been born in their world.  "Oh..."  Vegeta's scowl deepened.

"And Kaasan died two years ago, in a car accident,"  Goten concluded.

"But what about Gohan?"  Chichi worried. "Who's looking after you?"

"He's fine."  Goten was about to say more when he sensed his brother's ki approaching, along with several others.  Heads turned to the sky where two aircars were visible.

"Looks like the others are here!" Goku commented cheerfully.  "Can we go eat now?"

"Goku!" Chichi scolded.

"What about these two?"  The short haired Trunks questioned.

"Oh, I'm sure there's enough for them, too!  Once we've eaten, we can talk about why they're here.  I can't think properly on an empty stomach!"  He grinned.

"You can never think properly, baka," Vegeta remarked as he headed inside towards the food. Goku shrugged, still grinning, and followed him.  Their wives exchanged exasperated looks.

"Ah well," Chichi sighed.  Come in, all of you, we'll sort this out somehow..."  She tugged on her own son's hand, gesturing to the other Goten to enter first.

The long-haired Trunks hadn't moved.  His counterpart and could-have-been mother approached him curiously; but as Bulma reached out to touch his shoulder, he flinched violently away.

"Don't touch me!"  He ducked between them and past the others into the house, leaving them to stare at the empty doorway, before turning to his Goten for answers.

He shrugged in response, and followed Trunks.  <Looks like he might be having second thoughts about this little trip...  Then again, I don't think he ever intended to confront anyone besides my father.>  He took a quick peek behind, to catch a glimpse of his counterpart in this world.  <I feel weird enough as it is...>

Gohan soon arrived with his family, shortly followed by Kurilin, his wife Juuhachi-gou and daughter Marron, and Yamucha.  <Not too different here, although it's been a while since I last saw our world's versions of Kurilin's family and Yamucha ...>  Explanations were given promptly, as was the food.  <Although some people here are just dying of curiosity...>  He and his Trunks were conspicuously studied throughout the meal, dulling his appetite slightly with apprehension.  <I'd almost forgotten how good Kaasan's cooking is, though.>  Even Trunks was nibbling away at the food on his plate.  <At least, food is disappearing behind that hair of his.>  It quickly disappeared from the table, too, and it was soon time for further explanations.

"So," Gohan fixed his 'brother' with a serious gaze.  "Why exactly are you here?  Did you want our help for something?"

Trunks was still hiding behind his hair, sitting with one knee pulled up beneath his cheek, arms wrapped around his leg.  Goten sighed.

"We want to stop Vegeta."

"'Stop Vegeta'?" Bulma echoed, as her husband scowled.  "What's he doing?"

"He's destroying our world, one town at a time."

"But why?" She persisted.

"How the hell should I know?" Goten snapped, temper flaring, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  "Sorry," he apologized, opening dark eyes to meet her blue.  <Just like Trunks...>  "Vegeta started acting strangely after his Bulma died, but three years ago - three years ago, Niichan sensed that Piccolo was in trouble and we went to help him.  By the time we got there, Piccolo was dead, and Dende with him."  A ripple of shock swept around the room.  "Kami's Palace had been totally destroyed.  We didn't know what had happened, but when we got home we found Trunks bleeding to death on our doorstep."

"Nani!?  I would never kill the brat!"  Vegeta exclaimed angrily.  Goten met his fierce gaze evenly.

"Maybe you wouldn't, but our Vegeta certainly tried."  He looked around the room.  Bulma and the 'other' Trunks  and Goten were staring in shock at the long haired boy sitting in silence, face hidden from them.  Most of the others had reacted similarly; only Pan and Bra were oblivious, playing quietly on the floor next to Videl.  "Since then, none of us has seen him.  But cities and towns have been disappearing on a fairly regular basis.  We've sensed his ki briefly, but never long enough to track him down."

"So what do you want from us?"  Goku asked quietly.

"We'd like you to come back with us, to our world," Goten answered.  "Niichan told us that he always wanted to defeat you, but that you died before he ever could.  We thought that if he sensed your ki, he would come out to fight you..."

"And what would you do then?  Kill him?"

<I wish.>  He glanced over at Trunks, who was as still as a statue.  "We'll think of something," he told his father.  Goku had followed his gaze, and nodded briefly as their eyes met once more.

"Yoshi.  I'll do it."
 

End Part 1    Go to Part 2