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| Trunks sighed and placed the phone on the hook once more. He sat gingerly down in a chair at the table and placed his head in his hands, his fingers curling in his long periwinkle bangs as furrowed lines creased his forehead. His mother had taken the news harder than he had thought and was on her way right then to protect him. He had fought with her a little, telling her that it was a foolish thing to do, risk getting fired from an extremely well paying job to come and protect him. 'Besides,' he had said, 'I can take care of myself.' She hadn't listened, of course, and insisted on taking a week off work. |
| Trunks unfolded the creased and crumpled letter and read it over once more. Who was this mysterious person who kept leaving him letters? And why did he trust her? He sighed and leaned back, balancing on the two back legs and tipping his head back, closing his eyes to the world. He couldn't explain why he trusted these mysterious letters, he just, felt something from them. He felt he could trust this person with his life. |
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| A sudden noise at the door made him tip over in the chair. His mother was soon hovering over him in a maroon business suit, with her blue hair tied back in a hastily made bun, a few strands caressing the side of her face as if she was stressed out. "Trunks! Sweetie...are you alright?" |
| He winced slightly at the pain in his backside as he struggled to his feet. "Fine. Mom...you didn't have to come here. You know you can't do anything." |
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| Bulma's arms enfolded him and held him close to her heart. "I can be here Trunks. I can be here to help you. Support you. Give you the love you need." She looked up at him, her eyes wide with sincerity. "I wanna know who it is that is doing this to my baby!" |
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| "Mom...even if we did know, you wouldn't be able to help. And I wouldn't let you. You should know better than that." |
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| Bulma sighed and placed her hand on the back of a chair, using it to balance herself as she felt suddenly, emotionally weak. "I know...I know...it's just..." Trunks raised an eyebrow at her as he sat down at the table, gesturing for her to sit and talk with him. He frowned slightly at the forlorn way his mother sat down in the chair. She looked strangely upset, and he took up her hands in his lovingly. |
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| "Mom....is...is anything wrong?" he asked, his deep blue eyes penetrating her defences as she looked into them. |
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| "...I can't hide it anymore Trunks. I can't...I can't live with it." A dam burst inside of Bulma's soul and she poured out her feelings into tears and sobs. |
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| A look of pure concern leapt over Trunks' face and he crossed to the other side of the table to give her a warm hug. When Bulma finally calmed down enough to talk she let him go. She looked down at her son, kneeling before her, and a lump rose in her throat. She never thought she'd be telling him this. "Trunks...I ...have nightmares...too. Though...most of them...aren't completely about the androids. They're...they're about..." She cried again, but this time Trunks urged her on. "They're about, your father, Vegeta." |
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| Trunks cradled her in his arms once more as she broke out in tears, burying her face in his chest as she unloaded her grief. His mind was contemplating what she had just said. Was he so blind that he didn't notice before? How could he have not realised how miserable his mother really was inside if he knew her so well? Was he so wrapped up by his own grief that he hadn't stopped to actually make sure she was doing alright? Trunks clung to his mother, holding her close and burying his face in her blue mess of hair. Two tears rolled down his cheeks and disappeared among her hair as he stuttered, "Mom...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't notice before. I'm so sorry." |
| Bulma stopped and pushed him back slightly, shaking her head defiantly. "No Trunks, there is no way you could have known. I didn't want you to know. I hid it well. Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Nothing." |
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| Trunks cast his eyes down guiltily. He sighed deeply and brushed away the tears on his cheeks. "Ok." His breath came in wavering gasps as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. They looked at each other and made an agreement. They both needed some rest...but not sleep. Neither of them could have bared sleep. Trunks carried his mother up the stairs to her bed and set her down gently among its covers. "There. Rest now. If you need anything, holler. I'll be right next door in the spare bedroom." He was determined to set things right. |
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| Bulma nodded weakly and turned herself over so she was facing the wall. "Ok...thank you Trunks." |
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| Smiling slightly, Trunks made his way to the door. "No problem mom." Closing the door, Trunks let out a deep sigh and headed to the room next door. He sighed and flopped himself down on the bed weakly and stared at the ceiling, becoming mesmerized by the stucco patterns. He had some thoughts that needed sorting. |
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