Trunks watched, for the moment forgetting to breathe, as Gohan made a slow blank assessment of the room, expression flat, unchanging even when his gaze passed over Goten's still-unconscious form. It would be okay, Trunks repeated to himself, it had to be temporary, Gohan would come out of it now that no one was twisting his mind. If nothing else, they could always use the dragonballs to--no, they couldn't. Shenlong gone...well, Gohan would get better on his own. He had to; end of discussion.

Juunanagou prowled--well, staggered, but it would have been prowling had he been better balanced--around the periphery, head down, peering at the ground, beneath heaps of tile, into dark corners. Trunks glanced at him and scowled slightly.

"What are you looking for, Jinzouningen?"

"Oh, nothing that would interest you...you do realize Gohan's going to stay like that, don't you?" All in the same casual tone--small-talk. Trunks stiffened.

"He is not. Don't be an ass. He'll be fine with a little time at home." Trunks' stomach churned; he wasn't used to lying to himself. Just at the moment, though, there seemed no other option that allowed for sanity. Given his option, Trunks went with the lie.

"Go ahead and think that if you like," Juunana was saying as he rooted through a heap of rubble, "but I'm the one who knows how she operates. She wouldn't make something like that temporary, certainly not if he was going to kill her."

"I am not interested in your opinions," Trunks retorted coldly.

"What a shame...only ones around here that might do you some good." Juunanagou paused in his search and turned to face Trunks. "If you ask me," he continued quietly, "he's not really there except in body anyhow, and he can't do much with that now. Might be preferable to put him out of your pain."

Trunks' eyes widened. "How dare you! I would never...and don't you start getting ideas, android." He took a few steps closer to the throne, attempting to ignore the fact that Gohan was now staring at him and beginning to drool.

"Ideas? Me?" Juunana snorted. "Perish the thought. As if I gave a shit what happened to him, kid...just thought I'd make a friendly suggestion." He returned to inspecting the floor with a light shrug. Trunks continued to bristle, edging closer yet to Gohan. Juunana couldn't be trusted, no one could be trusted, and Trunks was the only one left to protect survivors. It was only natural to be cautious.

"There you are!" Juunana shouted suddenly, tossing aside several battered tiles. Trunks jumped; what, he'd found Takira? Heart in his throat, he managed a choked inquiry swiftly answered as Juunana lifted a squirming fuzz-tailed baby at arm's length.

"I suspected he was tougher than all that," Juunanagou commented, turning Kabu in midair, inspecting. Kabu growled and thrashed a bit, choosing not to scream.

"Put the child down," Trunks said stiffly.

"Why? Not yours, is it?" Juunana returned with a decidedly odd smile.

"I said put him down."

"Heh...well, there's my answer, anyhow." The android lifted Kabu to eye level and smiled. "Maybe it was immaculate conception, eh? Of course, your mom was a long way from holy and you're a little demon if ever I met one..."

Trunks' jaw clenched. "Put him down."

"Oh, you wanted to see him? Here." Still holding Kabu out in one hand, Juunana advanced, grinning a bit; far easier to be confident when one's life was not in immediate danger.

Trunks took an instinctive step back, jumping as something caught his jacket. He whirled to see a very confused Gohan still reaching out, trying to touch the material. Gohan made a questioning sound and stretched toward Trunks, fingers working.

"Gohan, no," Trunks said quietly, feeling foolish. Sounded like he was talking to a damned dog--Gohan sighed and sat back on the throne, looking hurt. Trunks seemed to struggle for a moment, watching him, then quickly turned away to glare at Juunanagou; that, at least, was marginally less painful, if only because it was less certain.

"I'd look but not touch, if I were you," Juunana said offhandedly, dropping Kabu into the crook of his arm; a certain amount of time forced into babysitting the brat had lent him at least some experience in how to shut the unsufferable thing up.

"And why is that?"

"He doesn't take well to strangers...do you, bratling?" Juunana poked the child in the stomach and got a sharp little growl in response. The way Trunks was acting, Juunana almost expected to hear the growl from him...

Trunks swallowed with a fair degree of difficulty, looking at Kabu: his hair, his tail, his eyes--the eyes, of course, being most troubling. Saiyajin simply did not have blue eyes...gods knew Trunks had heard that often enough from Vegeta. A sign of weakness, or something; didn't seem right, judging by the child's ki. Granted, Trunks didn't know overmuch of infant Saiyajin, but it seemed just a bit too high a power level for a baby.

Kabu, at last becoming fully aware of Trunks' presence, proceeded to stare at him, wide-eyed, tail flapping once in a while distractedly. Small chubby fists opened and closed a few times and the tiny tail flapped again, pensive. Just as Kabu seemed to be making up his mind to reach for Trunks, he blinked and shouted, a short, sharp cry directed not at but behind Trunks. Not pausing to think that he was taking directions from a baby, Trunks turned.

Goten lay on his back, arms thrown out limply to the sides. Apparent was the fact that he had not moved of his own power; he had yet to regain consciousness. Also apparent was what had moved him. Kabu shouted again as Takira stood, either unaware of being observed or choosing to be absorbed in her work...she seemed hurried. Bracing her legs apart, she raised both arms toward the ceiling, face tight, eyes shut. A thick ball of ki coalesced from the air between her spread palms, growing.

For a moment Trunks could only stare. What the hell did Lidivy think he was doing? It served no purpose, unless...unless he'd accepted the fact that Trunks was stronger and was not trying to make him suffer the only way available: by harming that which Trunks protected. It made perfect sense.

Takira paused, balancing nearly on her toes, tail wrapped tightly enough around her waist to look as though it would cut off circulation. She drew a deep breath and erupted in a hoarse bellow, plunging the ki sphere into Goten's body.

Trunks' shout merged with hers and he lunged forward, drawing his sword. Already failed Gohan--couldn't let this monster take Goten as well. With a warrior's scream he swung, throwing finesse and skill to the winds, only thought in his mind that he had to destroy.

Takira tried to pull back and stumbled; the blade, intended to remove her head, split her collarbone and laid open her ribcage in a deep diagonal gash across her chest. At first she seemed frozen, eyes wide and reflecting nothing but horrified disbelief. Her mouth worked for a moment and she coughed, blood rattling from her mouth and open wound. One step back...two...abruptly her knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground like a thrown doll.

Trunks ignored her, kneeling at Goten's side; that blast could have killed him. 'Gods, not again, don't die on me again, I can't stand it...' Goten twitched and gasped, his first breath in nearly a full minute, had Trunks but known it.

"Goten...just stay lying down, it's going to be okay. Just don't move," Trunks said quickly. Goten took another breath and gave him a puzzled look, but nodded nonetheless. Trunks patted him gently on the shoulder and stood, eyes like flints as he stepped over Goten to make a closer inspection of the writhing body rapidly coating tile floor in blood.

Takira, twisting, looked up at him with frightened eyes. A frothy hiss passed her lips as she tried to speak. Trunks faltered--she looked so much like the one he'd known. Suddenly he snarled and raised his sword again. That damned creature dared make him regret killing it...

"Damn you," he hissed lowly, and with that, plunged the point straight down, squarely through her heart. Takira's body jerked, convulsing, hands clawing weakly at the floor. Trunks swallowed and tried to watch.

'Go on and die, Lidivy, die and change back to that ugly sickening form so I can spit on your corpse...' Jerking the blade from her body, Trunks took a step back, trying to distance himself from the final onset of death.

Something seemed to be happening to him as well. Something unidentifiable lifted from his mind like a mantle; he hadn't even been aware of its presence. He felt...more vulnerable now, somehow...and inexplicably much, much colder.

Takira's struggles had slowed to weak spasms. Freiza had been right--Saiyajin were hard to kill. She coughed again wetly, tail flicking on the tile, fur now matted with blood. Takira stretched one hand out, fingers stiff, spidering over the tile toward Trunks...pleading. Trunks pulled back another step with a deep-throated sound.

'Just die and let this be over, let me see you release her body...'

Returning his gore-slimed weapon to its sheath numbly, Trunks unconsciously braced his feet as she had done moments before. Standing battle-wearied, arms crossed, he waited. A hopeless choked sound worked itself through ravaged lungs and Takira let her hand go limp on the floor. Her tail twitched three times more and with a slow unearthly hiss of breath, Takira's body went still.

Trunks waited...

...her body did not change.