This post is part of the series Against All Odds

Other posts in this series:

  1. One
  2. Two (Current)

Title:Against All Odds, Part Two
Plot, or Lack Thereof: Trunks gets his revenge
Reason for Banishment:The scene has already been done in both the anime and the manga.

Goodbyes are never easy; Trunks knew that.  But this one was especially difficult, because he would be going back to a world without Goku, Gohan, or his father.

As he shook hands with the people around him—people he saw in pictures in his own time—Trunks was tempted to stay and live in this happy and peaceful world.  But he knew that he had to go back.  For his world.  And his mother.  And, in a strange way, for his father.

“Well,” he said with reluctance, “I’ll have to go now.”

“Will you come back?” Gohan asked.

Trunks gave him a sad smile.  “Probably not.  Your world is at peace now.” And you can finally be the scholar that your mother wanted you to be,Trunks thought.

“But I’ll miss you!” Gohan pouted.

“So will I,” Trunks turned to Bulma, who was holding the younger version of himself in her arms, and gave her a hug.  “Take good care of me.” He half-joked.

“I will,” Bulma responded, tears welling up in her eyes.  She blinked them away and forced a smile.  “Goodbye.”

Trunks looked at his father who, as usual, was standing away from the group and watching the entire thing with a mixture of contempt and indifference.

“Father.” He didn’t really know what to say; there were too many things that he wanted to tell the father he had never known.  So he only gave his father a thumbs up and smiled again.

To his surprise, Vegeta responded by raising two fingers.

Still in a bit of a shock, Trunks climbed into the time machine and set the coordinates to his own time line.  As the time machine rose into the air he gave everyone below a final wave.

Vegeta watched the empty sky for a long time.

“Good luck,” he whispered.  “My son.”


Bulma waited for her son, scanning the horizon for any signs of him.  Somehow she knew that it was almost time for Trunks to be back, and she wanted to be the first to welcome him.  She also wanted whether or not Son-kun was saved and whether or not the Androids were stopped in the past.  And deep inside her, she wanted to know about Vegeta.  Did Trunks perceive him as an arrogant and snide prince that he seemed to be? Or the caring man that she herself had seen in scant glances?

At long last the familiar egg-shaped time machine descended from the sky.  Bulma ran forward to greet her son as he stepped out of the vessel, but stopped herself short.

There was something different about Trunks.  He was no longer the quiet, shy, and sometimes impulsive teenager who had agreed to go back in time only after his attempt to fight the Androids had failed.  The Trunks that stood before her now was—a man.  He had grown.  Matured.  Perhaps even hardened.  But Trunks saw his mother and his icy glare turned into a warm look of recognition.

“I’m back, mom,” He told her.

“I know.  Welcome home.”

The tenseness she had felt disappeared; they ran into each other’s arms, and Trunks was her son again.

“So,” she asked as they made their way home.  “How was your trip?”

Trunks began to answer, then hesitated.  There were too many things that he was still struggling to understand himself, his death in particular; when Cell’s energy appeared again something came from the sky and hit him—and everything went dark.  When he woke up again he was back at Kami’s floating palace.  It wasn’t until Trunks talked with Yamucha did he find out he was killed, and Vegeta’s reaction to it.  Trunks wasn’t sure that Bulma would react favorably if he told her about that.

“I’m—not ready to talk about it yet.”

“That’s all right,” Bulma sensed the reluctance in her son’s voice, so she returned her attention to piloting the small hovercraft.

As Trunks looked at the landscape below him and couldn’t get over how desolate it was.  He remembered how he had returned from his first trip to the past and discovered that his present was the way he had left it.

Even now, it’s still the same, I did everything I could—even died—and I changed nothing.

“Trunks!” Bulma called out, alarmed, when Trunks passed out into the cockpit.


Bulma half carried, half dragged Trunks into the house and lay him on the couch.  Then, she ran into the kitchen and filled a pan with cold water.  She grabbed a towel on her way back to the living room, carefully carrying the pan in her arms.  She wet the towel and mopped Trunk’s face with it.  Slowly, he began to stir.

“Oooh,” he moaned, pressing his hand to his temples, and tried to get up.  Bulma breathed a sigh of relief.

“You had me worried for a while there, Trunks,” She sat down next to him.  “Now, tell me what’s the matter.”

What came out of Trunks’ mouth surprised even him.

“You were wrong, mom,” he began, “about Dad.  He was proud,” a smile crept up his face as he continued, “that I was his son.  He called me a ‘warrior’.” He paused for a moment, lost in memories.  “While I was back there, Dad and I trained in a room where one year passed for each day in the outside world.  We usually just fought each other.  Neither of us said much.  But sometimes—”


Trunks looked at the empty landscape about him.  The nothingness usually soothed him—but not today.  Today he was filled with a loneliness he had not felt since Gohan died, and the expanse which stretched for miles around him compounded that loneliness.

He was so distracted by his feelings he did not notice his father walk up behind him.

“Was it difficult,” Vegeta asked without preamble, startling Trunks out of his reverie, “to grow up without a father?”

Trunks was astonished; Vegeta had shown little interest in the fact that Trunks was his son.  Now, almost out of nowhere, he asks such a strange question.

“I think,” Trunks answered after an awkard silence, “that it was harder on Mom.  She never admitted it, but she really missed you.”

Vegeta made a noise of contempt. “If she really missed me that much, then why did you seek out Kakarot, and not me? And why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“You wouldn’t have believed that I was your son from the future.  After all, neither of you even dreamed of being remotely nice to each other at the time.”

“True enough.”

“And,” Trunks added, “She thought you wouldn’t accept me because I’m half Human.” He clapped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

Me and my big mouth! Why the hell did I say that?

“She’s wrong.”

“What?” Trunks could not believe his ears.

“Half breed or not, you’re still my son.”

“But—” Trunks began, confused.

“—it’s not what your mother told you.  I know that.  She probably thinks that because I’m so full of pride I would be ashamed of you.” Trunks nodded.  Vegeta ‘hmphed’ again.  “I chose her to be my mate, and I was prepared to be a father, even though I knew next to nothing about parenting.” Vegeta noticed the look on Trunks’ face.  “What?”

“It’s just—not what I anticipated.”

“Why not? You say that in your time I died fighting those tin cans, right?”


“Well, if I didn’t care about you or your mother, do you think that I would throw my life away like that?” Trunks didn’t know the answer.  Vegeta turned to leave.  “Next time, don’t believe eveything you hear.” He walked away before Trunks could say another word.


So he saw that Vegeta was not the bastard that he pretended to be.

“So you did it?” She asked after Trunks finished.  “Son-kun didn’t die, and he stopped the Androids?”

“No, Goku lived.  As for the Androids, they were not the greatest threat to our planet in that timeline.”

Bulma was going to ask him who that threat was, but she heard the same tone in Trunks’ voice when she had asked him about his trip earlier, so she decided not to.  “And now, there is only one more thing to do.”

“What’s that?” She asked, half-guessing the answer and afraid to hear it.

“I have an old score to settle.”

Bulma knew what her son meant. “No, Trunks, please,” she pleaded, knowing that she could say little to dissuade him.  “I don’t want to risk losing you again.”

“You won’t, Ma.  I’m a lot stronger now.  This time, I’m ready to take them on.” Trunks could tell that his mother was still skeptical.  “Follow me; I want to show you something.” He led her outside so that he wouldn’t break anything as he powered up.  He took off his Capsule Corp jacket, then turned Super Saiyan.

Bulma didn’t need a scouter or extraordinary abilities to know that her son was much stronger than before.  She could tell by the aura that he gave off; he radiated confidence and determination.

At that moment, the radio in the garage crackled to life.

“The Androids have returned to the southern part of this city.  Evacuation is now under way,” Trunks looked at Bulma, who nodded.

“Go get them, son.”

“I’d be more than happy to,” They hugged again before Trunks took off.


The Androids had not changed much since their last encounter with Trunks; they were still killing for no apparent reason, and still not enjoying themselves.

“There are fewer and fewer things to kill around here,” Eighteen noted as she continued to blast away at the city.  “I wish there was something better to do.”

“Watch out, Eighteen,” Seventeen, but his tone of voice wasn’t serious.  “The last time you said that, the brat showed up and gave me a split lip.”

“Speaking of the brat, where is he?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugged.  “Haven’t seen him since the last time I beat him up.” Seventeen felt a small sting in his face.  He turned and discovered that one of the pesky humans was still alive.

The man, trapped in his car, was shocked that the bullet failed to kill the robot.

“Get back!” He shouted, panicking, as Seventeen drew near.  “Back, I say!” The cyborg grabbed the man’s adam apple, taking the gun from his hand at the same time.

“You stupid human.” Seventeen squeezed even harder, causing the man to choke.  “Is that all you can do?”


Something exploded near him, causing him to drop the man and jump back.

Trunks descended from the sky and landed near the two cyborgs.

“Oh, look who’s back,” Eighteen remarked.  “You do remember that this time I’ll have to kill you.”

“No,” Trunks replied.  “This time I will finish what I started.” Eighteen shook her head in mock sadness.

“He still hasn’t learned, has he, Seventeen?”

“It doesn’t seem so.”

“So it’s okay if I kill him?”

“Go ahead.  It’s what I told you to do in the first place.”

“Thanks,” Eighteen stepped forward to face Trunks.  She decided to begin by scaring him a bit with a small finger blast.

Trunks simply swiped it away with his hand and charged at Eighteen.  Before she could blink, he destroyed her with an energy blast of his own.

“Impossible!” Seventeen was stunned; he couldn’t believe how much Trunks had improved since their last meeting.  He stepped back a bit, then stopped.  He knew that he couldn’t run away from Trunks; he might as well face him and try to fight him.

“That was for Gohan,” Trunks announced when he turned to look at Seventeen.  “Now, I’m going to make you pay for killing all of those innocent people.”

“Let’s see you try!” Seventeen shouted, charging at Trunks, who dodged the attack with ease and answered with a swift kick and another ki blast that obliterated the cyborg.

Trunks landed on the ground and powered down.  He knew that this was only the first step in the long road back from the hell that they had all lived in.  They would need to rebuild the ruined cities, restore the decimated populations, and renew the hopes and dreams of those who survived.  He knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy job.  But today would be a day of celebration, because today he scored his first victory against the Androids and avenged the deaths of those he loved.  As he stared at the city below he whispered one word into the wind.