And now for something completely different. Seriously different.
Title: Commonalities
Author: LttleDvl
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Pairing: Two OC's mixed with Bridge and Sky (no slash, no het, nothing romantic at all in this fic, in fact)
Rating: T (some mild language)
Disclaimer: I don't own SPD; I just like to play around with the characters. But Janet and Sara (name inspired by one of kikos_ai's characters *can I use pretty please??*) are all mine. (also, unbetad so if you spot errors, give me a hollar - hey, its friggin' four thousand words, typos are gonna happen ;)
Summary: Two women meet under dire circumstances and wind up sharing a bit of their lives to one another
Word count: 4259
The building loomed massive before her, the grey sky that reflected across its many windows mirrored the grayness that covered her heart. She hated this place, no; more than that, she feared it. Feared that it would take away everything she held dear, every dream, every shining spark in her life.
It had done that to her once before. She nearly broke that time; but the small sun that was her world kept her going, kept her from losing herself to that terrible blackness which hovered just outside of her existence.
But now - now it seemed that abyss was finally going to get its way. To take her into its cold, heartless grip. All because it was happening all over again. Losing the remaining piece of her world.
No! She shook the thoughts off fiercely. He isn’t gone yet, you don’t know that for certain. Have faith. Have some hope. Right now, that’s all you need, and all you have.
She glanced up at the building once more, feeling dwarfed and insignificant by the sheer size of the thing. She narrowed her gaze, a look which wouldn’t be altogether unfamiliar to some people within the building, squared her shoulders and strode for the door, purpose in her steps, grim determination driving her onward. She wouldn’t let the last shreds of her sunlight disappear and fade into nothingness. Not without a fight.
She glared at the receiving ‘party’, the young man clearly ill at-ease with this hawk-faced, fearsome woman staring him down. He stammered something about ‘taking a seat’ and ‘he’ll be with you shortly’ before making a hasty retreat back into the safety of the confines of the base.
She had to admit though; the waiting was certainly having its desired affect of deflating her somewhat. Probably planned out that way on purpose. Much easier to deal with an on-edge-to-the-point-of-panic-mother than a genuinely pissed-off-to-hell-and-back-what-are-you-doing-to-find-my-son Mom. She ground her jaw slightly, a habit that used to perturb her late husband, and a trait that her son seemed to inherit, as she held onto that resolve. Cruger had much to answer for, and unlike the last time she came here on a similar visit, she wasn’t just going to roll over and accept a simple ‘I’m sorry’.
“Waiting too?”
She whipped her head around at the sudden, soft voice, surprised to find the nearby bench occupied.
The woman was small, rather sweet-looking and had light, almost dull-tone brown hair, a look that, when combined, one could use to describe her as ‘mousy’. But the sharp, clear blue eyes belied the fact that although the woman may seem unassuming on the surface, she was probably anything but.
Even now, she stared back with a kind of cold, glittering fire in those deadly blue eyes. But her voice remained ever calm and soft. “Sara,” she supplied, offering a hand in greeting, “and you?”
“Janet,” the dusky blonde replied, briefly clasping the hand of the other, “What do you mean by ‘too’?”
A shrug. “Just seemed like you might be here for the same reason as I am. You certainly have that look about you.”
Janet arched an eyebrow, “What ‘look’?”
“You know, that look." She made little quotation marks in the air with her fingers to emphasize her point. "The look that says ‘if anything happens to my kid, I’ll skin you alive, dance on your broken bones and use your remains as butter for my toast.’”
“...That...is gross.”
A crooked grin. “I try.”
Janet felt like rolling her eyes or smacking herself in the forehead, but despite the layer of humor, there was an eerie, deathly serious undertone to the other woman’s words. Janet flicked her eyes across the other woman.
“You must be Mrs. Carson.”
“Ms.” came the immediate correction, “but yes, I’m her, or me rather. I mean I’m her-yes Sara Carson.”
Janet could only assume that Sara’s son shared attributes with his mother, much like herself and her own offspring did, if all of her son’s letters describing his quirky teammate were true.
“So...you’d be Mrs. Tate, I presume.”
Janet nodded and sat down tentatively on another bench.
"I guess they figure that by making us wait, we'll lose some steam."
Janet glanced at the other woman, then smirked slightly. "Funny; I was just thinking the same thing."
"I'm a bit surprised. Your husband, wasn't he..."
"Yes," Janet cut in, "he was."
"Yet you still let Sky join SPD."
Janet wasn't sure if she should shoot the woman full of daggers or not, but decided against it. After all, they were rather in the same boat. "Didn't have much of a choice." She sighed. "Sky was determined that he was going to be a Red Ranger, just like his dad. And while I didn't like it, I couldn't deny him that. What kind of a mother would kill her child's dreams?"
Sara nodded, "I understand. I wasn't too thrilled about the idea of Bridge joining either. But the local schools just couldn't keep up with him. He's always been smart, even at a young age, and SPD was the only place that offered the kind of education he really needed. The best science labs, cutting-edge technology and access to some of the galaxy's top scientists." Sara shook her head, "I couldn't deny him that, although I wasn't happy about the potential risks. Personally, I always hoped he wouldn't make Ranger status." She sighed heavily, "But there it is."
"Hm. I know what you mean. A mother never stops worrying, no matter what."
"Too true."
They both looked up at the sound of footsteps, but sank back with equal sighs as a cadet passed them by.
"So...what did they tell you?" Sara asked quietly.
"The usual. All that 'need-to-know-basis' crap. Like telling me that my son has gone missing will be answer enough."
"I know; I was told the same thing."
Janet gazed briefly at their surroundings; the 'foyer' for lack of a better term, was very open, the slanted, glass-fronted face stretched upwards for several floors, giving an impressive view for anyone gazing down from up above. But down here, it felt more like a tomb. A cold, remote, utilitarian crypt. The base had a definite sense of remoteness to it, as if it had never been designed to feel welcoming to visitors. Maybe that was the whole point.
She was shaken out of her reverie by the sound of yet more footsteps, these ones more purposeful and clearly headed in the two women's direction. Janet glanced down to find one Dr. Manx come to a stop a few feet from them.
"Mrs. Tate; Mrs. Carson..."
"Ms. Carson."
"My apologies. Ms. Carson. If you'll both come with me?"
Janet got up without so much uttering a word, though she was fuming inside. Getting a cold, factual report via telephone from some SPD flunky on the unknown whereabouts of her son was one thing, but sending a lackey to do the Commander's job was another. She scowled as she silently followed the alien woman.
Sara raised an eyebrow in curiosity at her 'companion', but wisely remained silent as Janet shook her head briefly.
After ascending an escalator, winding through several corridors and eventually finding themselves ushered into a small, almost confining, conference room, neither woman was feeling particularly hospitable.
"Please have a seat," Manx spoke as she closed the door.
"I'd rather stand," Janet grumbled quietly.
Kat gave her a brief nod before continuing, "I'm sure you'd like some more information on the whereabouts of your sons. Unfortunately, at this time Commander Cruger feels..."
"Bullshit!" Janet exploded, "I will not be prattled to like some dimwitted child. This is my son we're talking about here; her son," she pointed at Sara, "and we demand some answers! Real answers."
Kat shook her head briefly, "I'm sorry, but the Commander stated that..."
"I don't give a damn what that overstuffed dog said! I want to know where my son is, and I want to know Right Now!" Janet slammed a tightened fist down on top of the sleek conference table, her eyes flashing dangerously.
Kat blinked in surprise at the ferocity the blonde woman was displaying. A brief glance showed much the same kind of smoldering anger upon the face of Mrs...or rather Ms., Carson. She sighed heavily, in some ways, she rather expected their reaction. One thing Doggie wasn't good at was dealing with emotional humans. Especially enraged Mother humans.
"Wait here."
Kat strolled out before either woman could blink.
Sara looked up at Janet, blinking. "Wow; you really know how to get what you want, don't you?"
"It's not that," Janet rasped harshly, then calmed herself marginally, "Sorry; not trying to snap at you, its them!" she pointed at the closed door, "I'm sick of all this walking around on eggshells, hearing one meaningless excuse after another, getting only sugar-coated platitudes that don't tell me jack shit! I put up with that crap for years, and by God, I'm not going to listen to their crap anymore!"
"Well said," a deep voice grumbled out.
Janet and Sara looked up as one to find Cruger standing in the doorway, his large figure dwarfing the small room. One would suppose that he was an intimidating sight, especially in the eyes of teenaged cadets, but it couldn't hold a candle when squared off against two concerned, angered mothers.
"So; what's the answer then?" Sara spoke coldly.
"That I don't have one." Cruger put up a hand to forestall the outburst lined on the features of Mrs. Tate. "But we are working to find them. We have a lead on their possible whereabouts and are pursuing it now."
"What happened?" Janet asked, not-quite-casually.
"It was an ambush. A routine follow-up to a minor distress call. The aliens were waiting for them and snatched them before we realized what had happened. We think that they didn't even have time to morph."
"Meaning that they're probably injured then," Sara spoke softly.
"We don't know that for certain, but yes," Cruger sighed, "it is a possibility."
Janet shook her head, still not ready to accept this conversation as the final answer. "How long?"
"Excuse me?"
"How long? I know SPD too well, or have you forgotten? You don't call up the family members until after a certain amount of time has passed. At which point," she paused briefly, "the odds of recovery or survival become slim."
Cruger remained silent for a long moment, his hands clasped behind his back. "Twelve hours."
"Twelve hours!" Sara practically screeched, as she launched herself out of her chair, earning a slight wince from the Commander as her shrill tone grated against his sensitive eardrums. "Twelve hours!?! And you're just now letting us know! Of all the nerve! Never in my life..."
Janet cocked an eyebrow as Sara Carson gave Anubis Cruger the full piece of her mind. She swore she could see the alien wilt under the verbal assault. Definitely only mousy in appearance.
After Sara had finally finished her diatribe, she sank slowly back down into her seat. Spent, but still vibrating like a harpstring. Janet lightly laid a hand on her shoulder. Sara might be through, but Janet was not.
"So what's next? Think we're ready to head home and dread the inevitable phone call?" She shook her head, "Not this time. We stay right here until you bring our children back safe and sound. Understood?"
"Of course; you can stay as long as you like. Any updates we receive, I'll have you notified."
"Good."
Cruger slipped out of the room, anxious to return to his duties or just anxious to flee, period, was difficult to determine. Janet collapsed bonelessly in the chair next to Sara.
"God," Janet heard her mutter, "I thought he was going to pass out or something. The way you let into him..."
"Me?? How about you? Jesus Christ, Sara, I thought he was going to piss himself or something." She cocked an eyebrow slightly at the other woman, "You certainly pack a mean punch for something so small."
Sara shrugged, "You get used to it. Had to learn to use my voice when all else failed. Nobody wants to pay any mind to a pitiful, single mom otherwise."
Realization started to creep in about Sara's habit of correcting her prefixular title. "Single?" Janet asked quietly, "Your husband served SPD too?"
"No," Sara shook her head, "I did. As a research technician. I met him during a seminar that SPD was hosting. We fell in love, got engaged and then married. We were so excited when we found out that we were going to be parents."
"But as Bridge's powers began to grow more apparent, the more Steve began to withdraw. You have to understand," Sara gazed directly at Janet, "we didn't know what was happening. All we saw was that our boy, our baby boy, would suffer from sudden fits, shrieking in pain if someone touched him for too long."
"At first we thought it was some kind of phase, a major case of social anxiety gone horribly wrong. But it wasn't. It was his powers, causing him to see, feel and sometimes hear the emotions of the people surrounding him. He didn't know how to block it out and large crowds would drive him nearly catatonic."
She sighed hugely, "Steven decided he couldn't take it any more. So one day, he simply...left. I don't know if he just couldn't stand to see Bridge hurting like that all the time or if he felt..." she trailed off.
"As if his son was some kind of freak." Sara glanced up as Janet finished her thoughts. "I know kind of what you mean. Jon never treated Sky any differently because of his powers, but others certainly did."
"Of course, Sky didn't have the same problem as your Bridge. His powers didn't hurt him. But they could, and did, hurt others." Janet flashed a quick look at Sara before continuing. "Sky couldn't control his powers effectively until he was much older. Any time he got too excited, or too angry, his shields would flair up and knock anyone nearby head-over-heels." She gave a wry smile, "I know; I was on the receiving end a few times myself."
"I had to home school Sky until he was about eight, just around the time that his father died. By then, he'd learned to control his powers, or at least I thought he did." She shook her head briefly, "Sky took the easy way out; instead of controlling his powers, he began to control his emotions. Never letting anyone see him happy, not a laugh, or even a cry. He hid it all behind this perfect veneer of calm mask. So perfect that I didn't catch onto it until he was nearly thirteen years old."
"I hated myself for that. I'd somehow pushed him away, imposing some kind of forced exile upon him. Even after I figured out what he'd been doing, it was too late; he'd already shut me out just like he had everyone else. That's part of why I couldn't tell him no when he decided to join SPD. I'd denied him everything else, so I had to at least give him that one thing."
"But Janet," Sara spoke softly, "It wasn't your fault. You didn't know what was happening anymore than I did. You can't blame yourself for that."
Janet nodded stiffly. "You know," she leaned back in her chair, letting out a small sigh, "it turns out that letting him join SPD was the best decision I'd ever made." She gazed at Sara, "Because of your Bridge."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Sky always wrote to me. He wasn't very open, but still, he was very dutiful in making sure he wrote home." She snickered slightly. "Probably figured it was his 'duty' or something. Anyway, he'd tell me about some of his classes, some of the training exercises, and gradually it shifted to complaints about his roommate. Noisy, odd, standing on his head..." she arched an eyebrow at Sara, "Does Bridge really stand on his head?"
A laugh. "Yes. Started doing it when he was five. Fell over a lot at first. It was so funny yet cute at the same time. But you know..." Sara seemed to be thinking for a moment, "I never really understood why he did it. Every time I asked him what he was doing, he'd always tell me that he was 'just thinking'."
"Ah; so that explains the infamous 'thinking position'. It took me a while to figure out what Sky meant in his letters. But the more that he wrote about this odd Bridge fellow, the more I could see wisps of my son, my real son, coming back. Somehow or another, Bridge managed to get through that tough shell of his. I have no idea how he did it, but I'd sure like to think him for it."
Sara nodded, "Seems like we both made a good decision." Janet's brow furrowed together in curiosity. "Sky wasn't the only affected by their friendship, you know. He managed to get Bridge to stop hiding all the time, to step forward and make a stand for himself. Bridge used to be the epitome of the shy school kid. Because of his powers, you know."
"He used to avoid other kids. Because he didn't want to be overwhelmed by their emotions. That's why I had to enroll him in smaller, specialized classes. But unfortunately, they were still on school grounds. He got picked on a lot when the other kids realized that he wouldn't put up a fight. Of course, he couldn't, he was too overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings that weren't his own to realize what was going on."
"He'd come home at least once a week covered in bruises, with no idea how he'd gotten them. The teachers all claimed that they never saw anything. I could only assume that Bridge's taunters knew where to go so that no-one could see. I almost lost him because of that."
A brief look of haunted, pain-filled memories flittered across Sara's features and Janet could only blink in surprise before Sara continued. "One of the school administrators had noticed the bruises, and since none of the teachers could verify that they were occurring on school grounds, they assumed that it was me." Sara's eyes darkened. "Me! Like I would hurt my own baby! Those arrogant bastards!"
"The next thing I knew, I had social services at my doorstep, threatening me with fosterage care and supervised visits." Sara growled quietly. "Permission from some damn court to see my own child! With some fool social worker standing over me like a warden. I pulled Bridge out of school for three weeks until the bruises healed completely. Took him to get a complete physical and he passed with flying colors."
"I enrolled him back into school and made the social worker come with me the first day. I had her look Bridge over, every inch of him the morning of. There was nothing. I didn't go to work that day. Instead, I spent all day volunteering at the social services office. That way they had a record and several sets of eyes to verify my whereabouts at all times. Hell, I even gave that woman my car keys just so they'd know that I couldn't slip out."
"When three o'clock rolled around, we went to pick Bridge up from school. And sure enough, he had a bruise big as my palm on the back of his neck. He couldn't tell us how it'd gotten there, of course, but even so, I marched him back into the school, dragging the social worker along with us. The principal at first tried to pin the blame on me again, no surprise there, but she quickly shut up when the social worker verified that Bridge had been fine that morning. And that I'd been with her all day, so that there was no way I could've come by the school the whole time it was in session."
"Eventually, they installed video cameras throughout the school. Finally caught the little bastard. Ten years old and beating up on a kid four years his junior. Turns out Bridge wasn't the only one either. He'd apparently earned quite the string of victims over the years, changing to someone else whenever a teacher or a parent got too suspicious. But with Bridge he found a sense of anonymity, because he couldn't ever remember anything after the fact."
"That's when I realized the majority of Bridge's powers acted through his hands. The little brat would hold him down, kneeling or standing on his hands with bare feet, direct skin contact that would flood Bridge's system, driving him into a mindless state where he was helpless to defend himself. But I didn't know what to do about it; not until a few months later."
"I bought Bridge a pair of nice leather gloves that following winter. His old ones had worn out, and he needed something warmer than cheap cotton anyway. He told me one day that he couldn't 'hear' other people when he had them on. We tried it out. First time in years we'd been to the park. He didn't blank out or freeze in panic; for the first time in years, he was able to run and play with other kids like any normal little boy."
"Of course the gloves were a little harder to explain during the warmer months. I think that may be why winter is his favorite season."
Janet stared, near-dumfounded as Sara finished her story. It took a moment for her to process it all and come up with a suitable reply. "You're an amazing woman, Sara."
The other woman blinked. "What? Why do you say that?"
"I'm in awe, no, flabbergasted is more like it. I thought it was bad enough raising Sky with his powers, but good lord," she shook her head briefly, "I don't think I could've survived what you went through."
Sara shrugged, "You do what you have to, I suppose. In that regard, I doubt you're that much different from I." Janet started to protest, but Sara cut her off, "Seriously. Your husband was a solider, often away for stretches at a time, just as my Bridgey is now. You survived his loss, raised a child on your own and managed to do it all without growing cold and remorseful."
Janet blinked. Because actually, she couldn't quite agree with that. She had grown cold; cold to all those around her, even her own son. That distance is what forced him to bottle himself up like he had.
"I know what you're thinking," Sara's words butted into her thoughts. "But you're wrong. You're not cold and uncaring and for the last time, you did not push Sky away. He did that all on his own."
"Are you psychic now too?" Janet asked dryly.
"No," Sara chuckled, "but I got so used to reading Bridge all those times he was unable to speak that I started to do it with other people too."
Janet cracked a wry grin. "Too much like your son, it would seem."
"Likewise, apparently. I've heard plenty of tales from Bridge about Sky. And I can certainly see the family resemblance."
Janet laughed outright. "Too true."
The door creaked open and both women fell silent and looked anxiously at Dr. Manx.
"We found them."
The room twisted into a whirlwind of happy tears, shouts of joy and hugging. Kat was both touched and a little dismayed at finding herself being squeezed by one overly eager Sara Carson. Definitely like Bridge, the thought flittered by.
After the initial release, both women had turned to questions about how their babies were, where had they gone to, and most importantly how soon they could see them.
Kat had to sit both of them down so she could have a moment to compose herself. "They'll be fine. They're both in the infirmary getting a full check-up as we speak. Sky has a mild concussion and Bridge a fractured wrist. They both have a few bruises, but nothing serious. Dr. Felix should be done in about a half hour, then you're both free to go down and see them."
"Cruger also gave them leave for the next few days, which I'm sure they would've gotten anyway from Dr. Felix. Once he's done and if he feels that they won't need observation, he'll probably release them to go home."
"Thank you," Janet replied. Sara had retaken her seat after the initial news and remained tight-lipped. She waited until Dr. Manx had departed before facing her friend. Friend? Wait; how did that happen? Inexpiably, Janet had spent the past few hours rediscovering something she thought she wasn't capable of having any longer. She found herself warming to the idea.
"Sara?" she placed a light hand on the other woman's shoulder, "You okay?"
"Yah," she nodded, "I'm just...so relived. You have no idea how much."
"Actually, I think I do." She grinned impishly. "But I do think there are two boys that need a good talking to about causing unnecessary worry in their mothers."
Sara smiled back, "And how careless of them to get caught like that in the first place. They're Rangers and should know better than to walk into a trap."
The two women smirked at each other, then spoke in chorus;
"They ain't got a prayer."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, I see your eyeballs popping out at the word count. Yes, it is long compared to what I've normally been throwing out there, but give it a whirl why don't ya? It is quite different. And angsty. Yes, definitly angsty.
Author: LttleDvl
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Pairing: Two OC's mixed with Bridge and Sky (no slash, no het, nothing romantic at all in this fic, in fact)
Rating: T (some mild language)
Disclaimer: I don't own SPD; I just like to play around with the characters. But Janet and Sara (name inspired by one of kikos_ai's characters *can I use pretty please??*) are all mine. (also, unbetad so if you spot errors, give me a hollar - hey, its friggin' four thousand words, typos are gonna happen ;)
Summary: Two women meet under dire circumstances and wind up sharing a bit of their lives to one another
Word count: 4259
The building loomed massive before her, the grey sky that reflected across its many windows mirrored the grayness that covered her heart. She hated this place, no; more than that, she feared it. Feared that it would take away everything she held dear, every dream, every shining spark in her life.
It had done that to her once before. She nearly broke that time; but the small sun that was her world kept her going, kept her from losing herself to that terrible blackness which hovered just outside of her existence.
But now - now it seemed that abyss was finally going to get its way. To take her into its cold, heartless grip. All because it was happening all over again. Losing the remaining piece of her world.
No! She shook the thoughts off fiercely. He isn’t gone yet, you don’t know that for certain. Have faith. Have some hope. Right now, that’s all you need, and all you have.
She glanced up at the building once more, feeling dwarfed and insignificant by the sheer size of the thing. She narrowed her gaze, a look which wouldn’t be altogether unfamiliar to some people within the building, squared her shoulders and strode for the door, purpose in her steps, grim determination driving her onward. She wouldn’t let the last shreds of her sunlight disappear and fade into nothingness. Not without a fight.
She glared at the receiving ‘party’, the young man clearly ill at-ease with this hawk-faced, fearsome woman staring him down. He stammered something about ‘taking a seat’ and ‘he’ll be with you shortly’ before making a hasty retreat back into the safety of the confines of the base.
She had to admit though; the waiting was certainly having its desired affect of deflating her somewhat. Probably planned out that way on purpose. Much easier to deal with an on-edge-to-the-point-of-panic-mother than a genuinely pissed-off-to-hell-and-back-what-are-you-doing-to-find-my-son Mom. She ground her jaw slightly, a habit that used to perturb her late husband, and a trait that her son seemed to inherit, as she held onto that resolve. Cruger had much to answer for, and unlike the last time she came here on a similar visit, she wasn’t just going to roll over and accept a simple ‘I’m sorry’.
“Waiting too?”
She whipped her head around at the sudden, soft voice, surprised to find the nearby bench occupied.
The woman was small, rather sweet-looking and had light, almost dull-tone brown hair, a look that, when combined, one could use to describe her as ‘mousy’. But the sharp, clear blue eyes belied the fact that although the woman may seem unassuming on the surface, she was probably anything but.
Even now, she stared back with a kind of cold, glittering fire in those deadly blue eyes. But her voice remained ever calm and soft. “Sara,” she supplied, offering a hand in greeting, “and you?”
“Janet,” the dusky blonde replied, briefly clasping the hand of the other, “What do you mean by ‘too’?”
A shrug. “Just seemed like you might be here for the same reason as I am. You certainly have that look about you.”
Janet arched an eyebrow, “What ‘look’?”
“You know, that look." She made little quotation marks in the air with her fingers to emphasize her point. "The look that says ‘if anything happens to my kid, I’ll skin you alive, dance on your broken bones and use your remains as butter for my toast.’”
“...That...is gross.”
A crooked grin. “I try.”
Janet felt like rolling her eyes or smacking herself in the forehead, but despite the layer of humor, there was an eerie, deathly serious undertone to the other woman’s words. Janet flicked her eyes across the other woman.
“You must be Mrs. Carson.”
“Ms.” came the immediate correction, “but yes, I’m her, or me rather. I mean I’m her-yes Sara Carson.”
Janet could only assume that Sara’s son shared attributes with his mother, much like herself and her own offspring did, if all of her son’s letters describing his quirky teammate were true.
“So...you’d be Mrs. Tate, I presume.”
Janet nodded and sat down tentatively on another bench.
"I guess they figure that by making us wait, we'll lose some steam."
Janet glanced at the other woman, then smirked slightly. "Funny; I was just thinking the same thing."
"I'm a bit surprised. Your husband, wasn't he..."
"Yes," Janet cut in, "he was."
"Yet you still let Sky join SPD."
Janet wasn't sure if she should shoot the woman full of daggers or not, but decided against it. After all, they were rather in the same boat. "Didn't have much of a choice." She sighed. "Sky was determined that he was going to be a Red Ranger, just like his dad. And while I didn't like it, I couldn't deny him that. What kind of a mother would kill her child's dreams?"
Sara nodded, "I understand. I wasn't too thrilled about the idea of Bridge joining either. But the local schools just couldn't keep up with him. He's always been smart, even at a young age, and SPD was the only place that offered the kind of education he really needed. The best science labs, cutting-edge technology and access to some of the galaxy's top scientists." Sara shook her head, "I couldn't deny him that, although I wasn't happy about the potential risks. Personally, I always hoped he wouldn't make Ranger status." She sighed heavily, "But there it is."
"Hm. I know what you mean. A mother never stops worrying, no matter what."
"Too true."
They both looked up at the sound of footsteps, but sank back with equal sighs as a cadet passed them by.
"So...what did they tell you?" Sara asked quietly.
"The usual. All that 'need-to-know-basis' crap. Like telling me that my son has gone missing will be answer enough."
"I know; I was told the same thing."
Janet gazed briefly at their surroundings; the 'foyer' for lack of a better term, was very open, the slanted, glass-fronted face stretched upwards for several floors, giving an impressive view for anyone gazing down from up above. But down here, it felt more like a tomb. A cold, remote, utilitarian crypt. The base had a definite sense of remoteness to it, as if it had never been designed to feel welcoming to visitors. Maybe that was the whole point.
She was shaken out of her reverie by the sound of yet more footsteps, these ones more purposeful and clearly headed in the two women's direction. Janet glanced down to find one Dr. Manx come to a stop a few feet from them.
"Mrs. Tate; Mrs. Carson..."
"Ms. Carson."
"My apologies. Ms. Carson. If you'll both come with me?"
Janet got up without so much uttering a word, though she was fuming inside. Getting a cold, factual report via telephone from some SPD flunky on the unknown whereabouts of her son was one thing, but sending a lackey to do the Commander's job was another. She scowled as she silently followed the alien woman.
Sara raised an eyebrow in curiosity at her 'companion', but wisely remained silent as Janet shook her head briefly.
After ascending an escalator, winding through several corridors and eventually finding themselves ushered into a small, almost confining, conference room, neither woman was feeling particularly hospitable.
"Please have a seat," Manx spoke as she closed the door.
"I'd rather stand," Janet grumbled quietly.
Kat gave her a brief nod before continuing, "I'm sure you'd like some more information on the whereabouts of your sons. Unfortunately, at this time Commander Cruger feels..."
"Bullshit!" Janet exploded, "I will not be prattled to like some dimwitted child. This is my son we're talking about here; her son," she pointed at Sara, "and we demand some answers! Real answers."
Kat shook her head briefly, "I'm sorry, but the Commander stated that..."
"I don't give a damn what that overstuffed dog said! I want to know where my son is, and I want to know Right Now!" Janet slammed a tightened fist down on top of the sleek conference table, her eyes flashing dangerously.
Kat blinked in surprise at the ferocity the blonde woman was displaying. A brief glance showed much the same kind of smoldering anger upon the face of Mrs...or rather Ms., Carson. She sighed heavily, in some ways, she rather expected their reaction. One thing Doggie wasn't good at was dealing with emotional humans. Especially enraged Mother humans.
"Wait here."
Kat strolled out before either woman could blink.
Sara looked up at Janet, blinking. "Wow; you really know how to get what you want, don't you?"
"It's not that," Janet rasped harshly, then calmed herself marginally, "Sorry; not trying to snap at you, its them!" she pointed at the closed door, "I'm sick of all this walking around on eggshells, hearing one meaningless excuse after another, getting only sugar-coated platitudes that don't tell me jack shit! I put up with that crap for years, and by God, I'm not going to listen to their crap anymore!"
"Well said," a deep voice grumbled out.
Janet and Sara looked up as one to find Cruger standing in the doorway, his large figure dwarfing the small room. One would suppose that he was an intimidating sight, especially in the eyes of teenaged cadets, but it couldn't hold a candle when squared off against two concerned, angered mothers.
"So; what's the answer then?" Sara spoke coldly.
"That I don't have one." Cruger put up a hand to forestall the outburst lined on the features of Mrs. Tate. "But we are working to find them. We have a lead on their possible whereabouts and are pursuing it now."
"What happened?" Janet asked, not-quite-casually.
"It was an ambush. A routine follow-up to a minor distress call. The aliens were waiting for them and snatched them before we realized what had happened. We think that they didn't even have time to morph."
"Meaning that they're probably injured then," Sara spoke softly.
"We don't know that for certain, but yes," Cruger sighed, "it is a possibility."
Janet shook her head, still not ready to accept this conversation as the final answer. "How long?"
"Excuse me?"
"How long? I know SPD too well, or have you forgotten? You don't call up the family members until after a certain amount of time has passed. At which point," she paused briefly, "the odds of recovery or survival become slim."
Cruger remained silent for a long moment, his hands clasped behind his back. "Twelve hours."
"Twelve hours!" Sara practically screeched, as she launched herself out of her chair, earning a slight wince from the Commander as her shrill tone grated against his sensitive eardrums. "Twelve hours!?! And you're just now letting us know! Of all the nerve! Never in my life..."
Janet cocked an eyebrow as Sara Carson gave Anubis Cruger the full piece of her mind. She swore she could see the alien wilt under the verbal assault. Definitely only mousy in appearance.
After Sara had finally finished her diatribe, she sank slowly back down into her seat. Spent, but still vibrating like a harpstring. Janet lightly laid a hand on her shoulder. Sara might be through, but Janet was not.
"So what's next? Think we're ready to head home and dread the inevitable phone call?" She shook her head, "Not this time. We stay right here until you bring our children back safe and sound. Understood?"
"Of course; you can stay as long as you like. Any updates we receive, I'll have you notified."
"Good."
Cruger slipped out of the room, anxious to return to his duties or just anxious to flee, period, was difficult to determine. Janet collapsed bonelessly in the chair next to Sara.
"God," Janet heard her mutter, "I thought he was going to pass out or something. The way you let into him..."
"Me?? How about you? Jesus Christ, Sara, I thought he was going to piss himself or something." She cocked an eyebrow slightly at the other woman, "You certainly pack a mean punch for something so small."
Sara shrugged, "You get used to it. Had to learn to use my voice when all else failed. Nobody wants to pay any mind to a pitiful, single mom otherwise."
Realization started to creep in about Sara's habit of correcting her prefixular title. "Single?" Janet asked quietly, "Your husband served SPD too?"
"No," Sara shook her head, "I did. As a research technician. I met him during a seminar that SPD was hosting. We fell in love, got engaged and then married. We were so excited when we found out that we were going to be parents."
"But as Bridge's powers began to grow more apparent, the more Steve began to withdraw. You have to understand," Sara gazed directly at Janet, "we didn't know what was happening. All we saw was that our boy, our baby boy, would suffer from sudden fits, shrieking in pain if someone touched him for too long."
"At first we thought it was some kind of phase, a major case of social anxiety gone horribly wrong. But it wasn't. It was his powers, causing him to see, feel and sometimes hear the emotions of the people surrounding him. He didn't know how to block it out and large crowds would drive him nearly catatonic."
She sighed hugely, "Steven decided he couldn't take it any more. So one day, he simply...left. I don't know if he just couldn't stand to see Bridge hurting like that all the time or if he felt..." she trailed off.
"As if his son was some kind of freak." Sara glanced up as Janet finished her thoughts. "I know kind of what you mean. Jon never treated Sky any differently because of his powers, but others certainly did."
"Of course, Sky didn't have the same problem as your Bridge. His powers didn't hurt him. But they could, and did, hurt others." Janet flashed a quick look at Sara before continuing. "Sky couldn't control his powers effectively until he was much older. Any time he got too excited, or too angry, his shields would flair up and knock anyone nearby head-over-heels." She gave a wry smile, "I know; I was on the receiving end a few times myself."
"I had to home school Sky until he was about eight, just around the time that his father died. By then, he'd learned to control his powers, or at least I thought he did." She shook her head briefly, "Sky took the easy way out; instead of controlling his powers, he began to control his emotions. Never letting anyone see him happy, not a laugh, or even a cry. He hid it all behind this perfect veneer of calm mask. So perfect that I didn't catch onto it until he was nearly thirteen years old."
"I hated myself for that. I'd somehow pushed him away, imposing some kind of forced exile upon him. Even after I figured out what he'd been doing, it was too late; he'd already shut me out just like he had everyone else. That's part of why I couldn't tell him no when he decided to join SPD. I'd denied him everything else, so I had to at least give him that one thing."
"But Janet," Sara spoke softly, "It wasn't your fault. You didn't know what was happening anymore than I did. You can't blame yourself for that."
Janet nodded stiffly. "You know," she leaned back in her chair, letting out a small sigh, "it turns out that letting him join SPD was the best decision I'd ever made." She gazed at Sara, "Because of your Bridge."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Sky always wrote to me. He wasn't very open, but still, he was very dutiful in making sure he wrote home." She snickered slightly. "Probably figured it was his 'duty' or something. Anyway, he'd tell me about some of his classes, some of the training exercises, and gradually it shifted to complaints about his roommate. Noisy, odd, standing on his head..." she arched an eyebrow at Sara, "Does Bridge really stand on his head?"
A laugh. "Yes. Started doing it when he was five. Fell over a lot at first. It was so funny yet cute at the same time. But you know..." Sara seemed to be thinking for a moment, "I never really understood why he did it. Every time I asked him what he was doing, he'd always tell me that he was 'just thinking'."
"Ah; so that explains the infamous 'thinking position'. It took me a while to figure out what Sky meant in his letters. But the more that he wrote about this odd Bridge fellow, the more I could see wisps of my son, my real son, coming back. Somehow or another, Bridge managed to get through that tough shell of his. I have no idea how he did it, but I'd sure like to think him for it."
Sara nodded, "Seems like we both made a good decision." Janet's brow furrowed together in curiosity. "Sky wasn't the only affected by their friendship, you know. He managed to get Bridge to stop hiding all the time, to step forward and make a stand for himself. Bridge used to be the epitome of the shy school kid. Because of his powers, you know."
"He used to avoid other kids. Because he didn't want to be overwhelmed by their emotions. That's why I had to enroll him in smaller, specialized classes. But unfortunately, they were still on school grounds. He got picked on a lot when the other kids realized that he wouldn't put up a fight. Of course, he couldn't, he was too overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings that weren't his own to realize what was going on."
"He'd come home at least once a week covered in bruises, with no idea how he'd gotten them. The teachers all claimed that they never saw anything. I could only assume that Bridge's taunters knew where to go so that no-one could see. I almost lost him because of that."
A brief look of haunted, pain-filled memories flittered across Sara's features and Janet could only blink in surprise before Sara continued. "One of the school administrators had noticed the bruises, and since none of the teachers could verify that they were occurring on school grounds, they assumed that it was me." Sara's eyes darkened. "Me! Like I would hurt my own baby! Those arrogant bastards!"
"The next thing I knew, I had social services at my doorstep, threatening me with fosterage care and supervised visits." Sara growled quietly. "Permission from some damn court to see my own child! With some fool social worker standing over me like a warden. I pulled Bridge out of school for three weeks until the bruises healed completely. Took him to get a complete physical and he passed with flying colors."
"I enrolled him back into school and made the social worker come with me the first day. I had her look Bridge over, every inch of him the morning of. There was nothing. I didn't go to work that day. Instead, I spent all day volunteering at the social services office. That way they had a record and several sets of eyes to verify my whereabouts at all times. Hell, I even gave that woman my car keys just so they'd know that I couldn't slip out."
"When three o'clock rolled around, we went to pick Bridge up from school. And sure enough, he had a bruise big as my palm on the back of his neck. He couldn't tell us how it'd gotten there, of course, but even so, I marched him back into the school, dragging the social worker along with us. The principal at first tried to pin the blame on me again, no surprise there, but she quickly shut up when the social worker verified that Bridge had been fine that morning. And that I'd been with her all day, so that there was no way I could've come by the school the whole time it was in session."
"Eventually, they installed video cameras throughout the school. Finally caught the little bastard. Ten years old and beating up on a kid four years his junior. Turns out Bridge wasn't the only one either. He'd apparently earned quite the string of victims over the years, changing to someone else whenever a teacher or a parent got too suspicious. But with Bridge he found a sense of anonymity, because he couldn't ever remember anything after the fact."
"That's when I realized the majority of Bridge's powers acted through his hands. The little brat would hold him down, kneeling or standing on his hands with bare feet, direct skin contact that would flood Bridge's system, driving him into a mindless state where he was helpless to defend himself. But I didn't know what to do about it; not until a few months later."
"I bought Bridge a pair of nice leather gloves that following winter. His old ones had worn out, and he needed something warmer than cheap cotton anyway. He told me one day that he couldn't 'hear' other people when he had them on. We tried it out. First time in years we'd been to the park. He didn't blank out or freeze in panic; for the first time in years, he was able to run and play with other kids like any normal little boy."
"Of course the gloves were a little harder to explain during the warmer months. I think that may be why winter is his favorite season."
Janet stared, near-dumfounded as Sara finished her story. It took a moment for her to process it all and come up with a suitable reply. "You're an amazing woman, Sara."
The other woman blinked. "What? Why do you say that?"
"I'm in awe, no, flabbergasted is more like it. I thought it was bad enough raising Sky with his powers, but good lord," she shook her head briefly, "I don't think I could've survived what you went through."
Sara shrugged, "You do what you have to, I suppose. In that regard, I doubt you're that much different from I." Janet started to protest, but Sara cut her off, "Seriously. Your husband was a solider, often away for stretches at a time, just as my Bridgey is now. You survived his loss, raised a child on your own and managed to do it all without growing cold and remorseful."
Janet blinked. Because actually, she couldn't quite agree with that. She had grown cold; cold to all those around her, even her own son. That distance is what forced him to bottle himself up like he had.
"I know what you're thinking," Sara's words butted into her thoughts. "But you're wrong. You're not cold and uncaring and for the last time, you did not push Sky away. He did that all on his own."
"Are you psychic now too?" Janet asked dryly.
"No," Sara chuckled, "but I got so used to reading Bridge all those times he was unable to speak that I started to do it with other people too."
Janet cracked a wry grin. "Too much like your son, it would seem."
"Likewise, apparently. I've heard plenty of tales from Bridge about Sky. And I can certainly see the family resemblance."
Janet laughed outright. "Too true."
The door creaked open and both women fell silent and looked anxiously at Dr. Manx.
"We found them."
The room twisted into a whirlwind of happy tears, shouts of joy and hugging. Kat was both touched and a little dismayed at finding herself being squeezed by one overly eager Sara Carson. Definitely like Bridge, the thought flittered by.
After the initial release, both women had turned to questions about how their babies were, where had they gone to, and most importantly how soon they could see them.
Kat had to sit both of them down so she could have a moment to compose herself. "They'll be fine. They're both in the infirmary getting a full check-up as we speak. Sky has a mild concussion and Bridge a fractured wrist. They both have a few bruises, but nothing serious. Dr. Felix should be done in about a half hour, then you're both free to go down and see them."
"Cruger also gave them leave for the next few days, which I'm sure they would've gotten anyway from Dr. Felix. Once he's done and if he feels that they won't need observation, he'll probably release them to go home."
"Thank you," Janet replied. Sara had retaken her seat after the initial news and remained tight-lipped. She waited until Dr. Manx had departed before facing her friend. Friend? Wait; how did that happen? Inexpiably, Janet had spent the past few hours rediscovering something she thought she wasn't capable of having any longer. She found herself warming to the idea.
"Sara?" she placed a light hand on the other woman's shoulder, "You okay?"
"Yah," she nodded, "I'm just...so relived. You have no idea how much."
"Actually, I think I do." She grinned impishly. "But I do think there are two boys that need a good talking to about causing unnecessary worry in their mothers."
Sara smiled back, "And how careless of them to get caught like that in the first place. They're Rangers and should know better than to walk into a trap."
The two women smirked at each other, then spoke in chorus;
"They ain't got a prayer."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, I see your eyeballs popping out at the word count. Yes, it is long compared to what I've normally been throwing out there, but give it a whirl why don't ya? It is quite different. And angsty. Yes, definitly angsty.