Power Rangers: Whole (5/?), Billy/Tommy, R.
I feel like stuff actually happens in this chapter, hooray. :D Enjoy.
Title: Whole, chapter five
Author: vandonovan
Pairing: Eventual Billy/Tommy, background Rocky/Adam, Skull/Kim, Jason/Zack.
Word count: 4,144 (this chapter)
Rating: R (over all)
Era: MMPR AU after "The Green Candle" where Tommy never becomes the White Ranger. (Picks up in 1999.)
Warnings: drug/alcohol use, mentioned dub-con, prostitution, adult language, sexual situations/innuendo, Alternate Universe, potential spoilers through Zeo.
Summary: Six years after losing his Green Ranger powers, Tommy has been consumed by inner darkness and a destructive lifestyle. Can Billy bring Tommy back or will his attempts strain the Rangers too much as they face the return of an old enemy?
Notes: Super special thanks to azelmaroark for both playing beta and helping me create and cultivate this monster. ♥
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19.
Chapter five:
Although it’s almost one in the morning, Mack is still in his office, feet propped on his desk, going through the night's receipts. Ladies Night doesn't always turn a big profit, but tonight was quite successful for other reasons entirely: he did particularly well with Tommy's client. So well, in fact, he might just try and coerce Tommy into doing it again. Sure, the stakes were high, but the payout far exceeded any of Tommy’s former clients; certainly more than the little geekoid that keeps dropping in to see him, stirring up trouble each time.
Hearing an odd noise in the hall, Mack takes his feet off the desk and sits up.
A second later, a flash of blue floods his tiny office, and suddenly one of the actual goddamn Power Rangers is standing there in front of him.
“Jesus Christ!” Mack shouts, nearly falling out of his chair in surprise. It's their leader, the blue one, and something about him seems off.
“Mack Simms?” the Ranger asks.
“Y-yeah. That's me.” Mack takes a calming breath. “Who the hell are you?”
“I've received some complaints about the way you've been running your . . . business. I'm here to enforce a little reform.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” To Mack’s further surprise, the Ranger drops a stack of papers on his desk. Although he's shaking inside, Mack is reasonable and reaches out to pick up one of the sheets. A brief scan tells him that it’s a new contract for his employees. The terms are laughably generous, with regular hours, much higher pay rates, health and dental and an optional 401k. It's such an absurd idea of 'reform' that most of his fear subsides. “Well, I thank you for bringing this to my attention, but I think we're all right just now.”
“I believe you've misunderstood me,” the Ranger says. “This isn't a suggestion.”
It's so ludicrous that one of the Power Rangers has appeared in his office to negotiate pay raises that Mack dismisses the whole thing out of hand. It's got to be a hoax. “What is this, some sort of joke? Which of you clowns thought this was a good idea? Is that Kyle in there? Whoever you are, you’re not going to be happy when I find out.” He shakes his head. “This is what I think of your fucking new contract.” He tears it in half. “You're going to have to do a lot better than pretending to be one of the fucking Power Rangers if you want to scare me.”
The Ranger puts a foot up on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, extends both of his arms and shouts, “Power Lance!”
Mack doesn't fucking know how, but suddenly the bastard is holding a pair of sai. The Ranger steps on the chair and then up onto the desk. Before Mack can move, one of the sai is at his throat.
“I strongly recommend you reconsider my proposition.”
“I'm . . . I'm reconsidering,” Mack says and swallows hard. This is the fucking real deal! He doesn't take his eyes off the Ranger's dark visor, but grasps around his desk for a pen. His hand is shaking. “Where . . . where do I sign?”
Still crouched on the desk, the Ranger pulls one sai back and stabs one of the contracts with the tip. “Here is a good start. Just fill in the names of each of your employees. The language has been worded on these contracts in such a way that signing them automatically voids the contracts currently in use. If your employees decide not to sign these new contracts, they are officially free to leave to seek better employment.”
Though he starts furiously signing them, Mack says, “What are you trying to do, ruin me?”
“No more than you have already ruined the lives of your employees.” He lifts his sai. “Wait, we're not done yet. This one is for you.”
At the bottom of the stack is a different document. Mack scans it, but is too rattled to really read it. “What . . . what? This says I give ownership of the club over to Reginald Arnold? The doorman? Are you out of your mind?”
“No, but I believe you may be, if you believe you could continue to treat your employees the way you've been treating them and get away with it.”
“Since when do the Power Rangers care about shit like this?”
“Maybe it's time we started to.” The Ranger points the sai at the new document. “Sign.”
Muttering under his breath, Mack signs his rights to the club away. He'll tear all this up later. Raises and health care are bad enough, but there's no way he's signing ownership of the club away!
“In any event, perhaps this sort of thing is part of our regular routine. You certainly aren’t privileged enough to know our usual method of operation.”
Angry but holding his tongue, Mack furiously signs the last document.
Just as suddenly as they appeared, the weapons disappear. “Thank you for your cooperation.” The Ranger collects all the documents, slipping them into a folder, which he places in the filing cabinet on the right. He neatly extracts all the old contracts and tucks them under his arm. “Now, if you'll kindly look this way, please.”
In his hand the Ranger now holds a slender black rod. At the very tip is a light. As Mack watches, the light suddenly flashes, far brighter than a camera flash.
Dazzled, Mack blinks a few times, but his vision doesn't clear. “Hello?”
A voice in the darkness says, “I want you to go have a drink or three at the bar and then get in your car and drive home very carefully, Mr. Simms. Can you do that?”
Mack blinks a few times, but can't focus his vision. His mind feels sluggish, and he's not sure exactly where he is. “Yeah. I can do that.” His eyes narrow. “Who is this?”
“That is not important. Go have a few drinks now. Good night, Mr. Simms. Thank you for your help.”
“Have a few drinks. Sure.” Mack gets to his feet and stumbles toward the door, nearly knocking over his hat rack. “Always happy to . . . uh. Always happy to help a customer.”
-
The streets are empty and quiet after one in the morning most Wednesdays, and tonight is no exception. To keep the stillness and fog rolling in at bay, there's really only one thing to do, and so Patrol Officer Skullovitch turns the police cruiser into the parking lot of a twenty-four hour doughnut shop.
“Sure could use some coffee about now, eh Bulky?” he says, shutting the engine down.
“I do believe it is that time , Skull. Brr!” He chaffs his hands. “Can't get over how cold it's gotten the last few days. It was 102°F last week!”
Skull laughs. “That's Southern California for you. You coming in? Probably warmer inside.” He unfastens his seat belt.
“Yeah, might as well. See what Don's up to these days.”
Within seconds of stepping out of the patrol car, they're dazzled by a flash of blue light, which clears to reveal one of the Power Rangers.
“Uhhh,” Bulk says, pointing.
“I see him. I see him.”
Neither officer moves, though Skull wants nothing more than to cling and hide behind Bulk. Holding his ground, Skull waits to see what happens.
“Good evening, officers,” the Ranger says, holding his empty hands up. “Hope I'm not disturbing your patrol route.”
“Uhhh, not at all,” Skull says.
Having regained some of his senses, Bulk gasps, “A Power Ranger!”
Skull glances over at Bulk and then takes a bold step forward. “What, uh, what can we do for you tonight, Mr. uh, Blue Ranger man?”
The Ranger tilts his head in a sort of polite nod. “We don't usually report these sorts of things, you understand, preferring to let the police deal with common criminals, but I was in the area and couldn't help but notice a drunk driver departing from 32nd and Broad in Devil's Cove. I realize that might be a little outside of your boys' jurisdiction, but I've got a funny feeling about the driver of that car and thought I had better report it to the next officer I saw.”
Abandoning the idea of coffee and doughnuts, Skull returns to the patrol car with a renewed sense of responsibility. “32nd and Broad, you said?” He picks up the radio dispatch.
Pulling up his belt, Bulk says, “We'll have an officer on the scene in minutes.”
“Can you give us a description of the vehicle?” Skull sticks his head out of the car door. “That's a pretty bad part of town.”
“As concerned as I was, I took the liberty of memorizing the license plate number. Would that help?”
Skull glances to Bulk and smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, that'll help.” It takes only a few seconds for Skull to get the information out and within minutes he's hearing reports on the radio confirming that the car is on the road and does appear to be driven by someone under the influence. “Should be taken care of in a few more minutes. Thanks for the tip.”
“Thank you.”
“Just doing our job,” Bulk proudly says.
“Is there uh, anything else we can help you with?”
The Blue Ranger tips his head again. “Not tonight. Keep up the good work.”
“Hey!” Bulk says. “You too!” He looks up at the sky briefly. “Are the space villains really back?”
“I'm afraid so, but don't you worry. We're always on the job. Thanks again!”
Before either of them can speak, the Blue Ranger disappears as quickly and brilliantly as he appeared.
For a moment, Skull feels like that couldn't have possibly just happened. It's only the soft squawks emitting from his dispatch radio confirming the arrest of a forty-three year old Caucasian male drunk driver in Devil's Cove that convinces him.
Without getting out of the driver seat, Skull looks through the windshield at Bulk still standing on the pavement. “I can't believe out of all the patrol officers out tonight, he came to us.”
Rather dazed, Bulk opens the passenger side door and heavily sits back down. “You . . . you don't suppose he recognized us, do you? From the times we helped the Rangers in the past?”
“Naaah,” Skull says, then reconsiders. “I mean. It's probably just a coincidence, right?”
Bulk shrugs elaborately. “Or maybe he knew we'd . . . you know, believe him.”
Skull shakes his head. “Nah. I mean, it's probably not even the same guy, you know? They've probably got a whole bunch of Blue Rangers.” His brow furrows. “You don't really think it's been the same guys doing it since whenever they first showed up, do you?”
Bulk shakes his head. “Man. I hope they get good overtime, if it is.”
Skull lets out a deep breath. “You still want coffee?”
“I think I just need to . . . process this a little longer.” He reaches out and turns up the volume on the radio dispatch. “Hey, Skull?”
“Yeah, Bulk?”
“What're we gonna do if they ask us how we knew about a drunk driver all the way over in Devil's Cove? They're never going to believe a Power Ranger tipped us off.”
“Yeah, huh. Not really one to put in the report, is it?”
As they listen to the radio, word comes through on the arrest, citing that in addition to the drunk driver, several kilos of illegal substances were found in the car-and a loaded, unlicensed handgun.
“We'll . . . we’ll just say we got an anonymous tip,” Bulk says. “I mean, that's what it was, right?”
Skull grips the steering wheel. “Right. Anonymous tip. Male, approximately five-foot seven? eight? Maybe one-forty?”
Bulk squints. “Dressed in blue.”
“Dark glasses on.”
“Yeah. Or . . . or a biker helmet.”
“Yeah. A blue biker helmet. Couldn't really see his face. Haha, that's good, Bulk.”
“I just hope, considering that it sounds like they just arrested a pretty dangerous guy, they don't ask . . .”
“. . . why we listened to a faceless biker's anonymous tip about a drunk driver several towns away.”
“Yeah.”
That's what goes into their report, though, and at least for the night, it passes without comment. Skull calls the Devil's Cove police station when he gets off work at four in the morning and confirms the arrest. It turns out that the guy has several warrants for his arrest out, from embezzlement to dog fighting, and has run a seedy nightclub in one of the worst parts of town for years.
Skull doesn't mention the Power Ranger to anyone, but keeping the secret gnaws at his insides. As he crawls into bed, he decides there has to be a reason the Ranger came to them. He doesn't sleep well, but is up and alert when his alarm goes off at eleven-thirty. He's out the door and at Ronnie's Cafe by noon to keep his lunch date.
“Hey, Kim,” he says, bending to kiss her cheek.
“Morning, Gene.” She kisses him back.
“How's your day been?” He settles into the seat across from her.
“Oh, hectic as always. You'd never know these lawyers went through college at all judging by the emails they send out. I mean, I may not type more than forty-five words a minute, but at least the words I do type are polite, spelled correctly and properly punctuated.”
Skull's not really listening, staring blankly at the menu. “Yeah, that's too bad.”
Kimberly pouts, nudging his leg under the table. “Hey, what's wrong? You're not listening; that’s not like you. Bad day at work?”
“No.” His brow furrows and he refocuses on her. Seeing Kimberly’s beautiful face smiling at him in concern helps reorganize his thoughts. How can he keep anything from her? Lowering his voice, he scoots his chair closer. “Something really strange did happen last night, though. Couldn't put it in my report. I don't think anyone would believe me.”
Kimberly looks suitably intrigued. “Do tell.”
Feeling suddenly defensive, Skull says, “Bulky was there, so he can confirm it.”
“Confirm what?”
Their relationship has been quite off and on lately, and mentioning the Power Rangers now that they've become active again might be a major turn off to her, or dredge up too many bad memories of his wild antics back in high school. Still, Skull believes he can trust her. “Last night, one of the Power Rangers just . . . dropped in on me and Bulk and told us to arrest this drunk driver he'd spotted. Funny thing is the guy was in Devil's Cove. Why would he tell two cops in Angel Grove about it?”
Kimberly's expression is unreadable.
Skull feels crushed. “You don't believe me, do you? I shouldn't have said anything.”
“No. No,” Kimberly says, shaking her head as if coming out of a daze. “It's really strange, but . . . I believe you. I really do. I mean, you have a history with the Rangers, after all, don’t you? Which, uh. Which Power Ranger was it?”
Skull's brow furrows. “The blue one. I guess he's the leader now, so that makes some sense. Right?”
“Right.”
“You think he picked me and Bulky for a reason? ‘Cause . . . ‘cause we really did help them a few times, back in the day. Not a whole lot, mind you, but it did happen. Maybe he remembered us?”
“I’m sure they remember you, but I don't know if that’s why he’d go to you,” Kimberly says, staring off into the distance. “The answer to that would certainly be interesting to find out . . . ”
-
It's been awhile since Billy's had to do so much teleporting in one day, so at first, even though it's never happened before, he thinks he just miscalculated and ended up in the Command Center instead of his living room.
“Blue Ranger!” Zordon's voice booms.
Billy turns to face him, a sinking sensation settling down around his shoulders. It's late. He's tired. This is not the time he wants to be having this conversation. “Hello, Zordon.” Billy takes his helmet off and runs a hand through his hair. “Waiting until the middle of the night when I'm dead on my feet to have this conversation. How apt.”
“In light of Master Vile’s return, your recent actions have concerned me.”
“You make it sound like they're connected.”
“Are they not in their own way? Your loyalty is to the Power Rangers and the protection of Earth.”
Even though he's just standing there, Billy feels his heart rate increase. His grip on his helmet tightens, but he keeps his voice steady and calm. “Surely you do not mean to suggest that my loyalty has wavered.”
“Your recent actions have given the impression you may be more concerned for the life of one human over your duties as a Power Ranger.”
“The . . . life of one human? Is that all Tommy is to you now? Do you realize he's the way he is now because of you?”
“I took no part in Rita's evil Green Ranger scheme.”
“Yes you did. You chose five teenagers from Angel Grove to be your Power Rangers. Rita would have never picked Tommy if you hadn't led her here first. And you certainly had no problem using him after her spell wore off.”
“Tommy chose to help the Rangers of his own volition.”
“He was sixteen!” To calm down, Billy has to look away from Zordon. “He hurt us when under Rita's spell. He felt obligated to help us once he was free. That guilt still gnaws at him. It may even yet destroy him.”
There's a lull while Zordon considers his words. “It is unfortunate that Tommy was not powerful enough to come away from his involvement with the Power Rangers a stronger individual.”
“Do you . . . have any idea what you're actually saying?” Billy shakes his head. “You destroyed him. You gave him these powers and when he couldn't cope with them, when he was no longer of any use to you, you abandoned him! Take some responsibility!”
“Oh, Billy,” Alpha says, waddling up out of the darkness. “Don't be too hard on Zordon. He really doesn't understand the finer points of human emotion.”
Billy doesn't take his eyes off Zordon. “Of course he does. He preaches to us about responsibility and loyalty all the time.”
“He knows what the concepts mean. He doesn't really understand them.”
“If that's true, then he has no right acting like he does. Especially not when he's risking the lives of kids, denying them help from external sources and abandoning them when they crack.”
“He means well.”
“Tell that to the mentally and physically scarred man trying to rest in my house right now. Tell it to Zack, who tells me he still has nightmares about Jason getting killed in the war. Tell it to Kim who gave up her dream to be in the Pan Global Games and a career in gymnastics to be a Power Ranger. Tell it to Adam, who never got to go to college and get the degree he always wanted because he was too busy helping save the world. Good intentions just aren't enough anymore.”
Zordon finally speaks. “It is exactly this kind of attitude that I fear is distracting you from what is important. It is only a matter of time before Master Vile launches another attack on Earth. Time needs to be dedicated to improving and reprogramming the zords and keeping your body and mind healthy in preparation for battle.”
Billy snorts. “I can hardly even do that last bit even without taking Tommy into consideration. Do you know how much a high school graduate in Southern California working at an IT firm makes annually?”
“But Billy--”
He holds up a hand to cut Alpha off. A strange calmness washes over him, and he feels suddenly at peace. With his eyes on Zordon, he asks, “Do you regret making me leader of the Power Rangers after the others chose to attend the International Peace Conference?”
“I believed I had chosen wisely then, and I still believe so now.”
The last of Billy's anger subsides. “Then believe me now. I know and understand the Rangers, as humans, better than you. We can't continue like this. Things have got to change. Things may be different on Eltar, but on Earth we all have needs that aren't being met.” Putting a hand to his head, he says, “For instance, because I'm talking to you, I'm missing on out much needed sleep.”
“You stole documents from a man and had him arrested instead of sleeping.”
“Yes. Small restitution for what he's done to Tommy.” Billy shakes his head. “I'm not going to let you manipulate me anymore, Zordon. Just be grateful that I'm not the one you abandoned and forgot. When I realized that you've known where Tommy's been all this time and never did anything to help him and never told us so we could help him, my first instinct was to come here and,” he reaches out with his left hand and, after pressing a few buttons, shuts all the power in the Command Center down save for Zordon, “destroy you.”
“Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi! Billy, no!”
“I assure you, Zordon, you don't want me as an enemy. I could cripple this place five times over from across town.” He keys up the main power again. “If you keep treating us the way you have been, it's only a matter of time before someone snaps and does something irrevocable. I don't want it to be me.” He doesn't feel as badly as he probably should at how threatening that sounds.
“I accept that whether or not I agree, there are some things important to humans that I have neglected to properly calculate for. What improvements do you propose?”
The sheer number of things Billy wants to change overwhelm him. “I'm too tired for that right now. The first one is taking care of the Rangers, former and present. That includes Tommy.”
“Very well,” Zordon says. “However, your skills are needed elsewhere. It would be preferable if his care was not your responsibility. ”
“Wouldn't it?” Billy smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. “We'll work on that later. For now, just trust me to do my job. I will take care of Tommy, I will get the zords repaired and operational with the Golden Eaglezord, and I will be a good leader to the Power Rangers.”
“It is a great deal of responsibility. Are you sure you can handle it?”
Zordon talking about responsibility just now almost makes Billy laugh. Perhaps he's getting a bit delirious after the long day he's had.
Alpha pipes up. “Billy has had a success rate of 98.89% over the last seven years, Zordon. I believe he can handle it.”
Billy's never loved the little tin can more. He turns his face toward Zordon. “Trust me.”
Zordon finally nods. “Then, may the Power protect you.”
Relieved, Billy teleports out, arriving in his living room unmorphed and even more exhausted because of it. The digital display on his microwave says it's nearly three in the morning. He's not quite sure where all the time went. Forgoing a shower for now, he hurries to the guest room and lets out a breath seeing Tommy still there, sound asleep.
Knowing that Tommy is going to wake up and be in more pain and have nothing to wear, Billy pushes aside his own weariness and, grabbing his car keys, heads out. There’s an all night store not too far away, where he buys some stronger painkillers and some clothes. It isn’t much because his credit card is still being declined, but he has enough cash to get Tommy some underwear, a pair of pajamas that will actually fit him, two pairs of jeans, a pack of three t-shirts and a light sweater.
It’s after four when he gets home and his arms feel twice their regular weight. He leaves some of the new painkillers on the night stand by Tommy's head, but not the whole bottle. Taking the clothes out of the bag, he sets them up on a nearby chair.
Then, too tired to do anything else, Billy goes into his own bedroom, changes into pajamas and crawls into bed. His brain whirls with thoughts of how to reform the Command Center, so Billy pulls the pillow over his head and starts one of his mental math equations guaranteed to distract his mind and put him to sleep.
Title: Whole, chapter five
Author: vandonovan
Pairing: Eventual Billy/Tommy, background Rocky/Adam, Skull/Kim, Jason/Zack.
Word count: 4,144 (this chapter)
Rating: R (over all)
Era: MMPR AU after "The Green Candle" where Tommy never becomes the White Ranger. (Picks up in 1999.)
Warnings: drug/alcohol use, mentioned dub-con, prostitution, adult language, sexual situations/innuendo, Alternate Universe, potential spoilers through Zeo.
Summary: Six years after losing his Green Ranger powers, Tommy has been consumed by inner darkness and a destructive lifestyle. Can Billy bring Tommy back or will his attempts strain the Rangers too much as they face the return of an old enemy?
Notes: Super special thanks to azelmaroark for both playing beta and helping me create and cultivate this monster. ♥
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19.
Chapter five:
Although it’s almost one in the morning, Mack is still in his office, feet propped on his desk, going through the night's receipts. Ladies Night doesn't always turn a big profit, but tonight was quite successful for other reasons entirely: he did particularly well with Tommy's client. So well, in fact, he might just try and coerce Tommy into doing it again. Sure, the stakes were high, but the payout far exceeded any of Tommy’s former clients; certainly more than the little geekoid that keeps dropping in to see him, stirring up trouble each time.
Hearing an odd noise in the hall, Mack takes his feet off the desk and sits up.
A second later, a flash of blue floods his tiny office, and suddenly one of the actual goddamn Power Rangers is standing there in front of him.
“Jesus Christ!” Mack shouts, nearly falling out of his chair in surprise. It's their leader, the blue one, and something about him seems off.
“Mack Simms?” the Ranger asks.
“Y-yeah. That's me.” Mack takes a calming breath. “Who the hell are you?”
“I've received some complaints about the way you've been running your . . . business. I'm here to enforce a little reform.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” To Mack’s further surprise, the Ranger drops a stack of papers on his desk. Although he's shaking inside, Mack is reasonable and reaches out to pick up one of the sheets. A brief scan tells him that it’s a new contract for his employees. The terms are laughably generous, with regular hours, much higher pay rates, health and dental and an optional 401k. It's such an absurd idea of 'reform' that most of his fear subsides. “Well, I thank you for bringing this to my attention, but I think we're all right just now.”
“I believe you've misunderstood me,” the Ranger says. “This isn't a suggestion.”
It's so ludicrous that one of the Power Rangers has appeared in his office to negotiate pay raises that Mack dismisses the whole thing out of hand. It's got to be a hoax. “What is this, some sort of joke? Which of you clowns thought this was a good idea? Is that Kyle in there? Whoever you are, you’re not going to be happy when I find out.” He shakes his head. “This is what I think of your fucking new contract.” He tears it in half. “You're going to have to do a lot better than pretending to be one of the fucking Power Rangers if you want to scare me.”
The Ranger puts a foot up on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, extends both of his arms and shouts, “Power Lance!”
Mack doesn't fucking know how, but suddenly the bastard is holding a pair of sai. The Ranger steps on the chair and then up onto the desk. Before Mack can move, one of the sai is at his throat.
“I strongly recommend you reconsider my proposition.”
“I'm . . . I'm reconsidering,” Mack says and swallows hard. This is the fucking real deal! He doesn't take his eyes off the Ranger's dark visor, but grasps around his desk for a pen. His hand is shaking. “Where . . . where do I sign?”
Still crouched on the desk, the Ranger pulls one sai back and stabs one of the contracts with the tip. “Here is a good start. Just fill in the names of each of your employees. The language has been worded on these contracts in such a way that signing them automatically voids the contracts currently in use. If your employees decide not to sign these new contracts, they are officially free to leave to seek better employment.”
Though he starts furiously signing them, Mack says, “What are you trying to do, ruin me?”
“No more than you have already ruined the lives of your employees.” He lifts his sai. “Wait, we're not done yet. This one is for you.”
At the bottom of the stack is a different document. Mack scans it, but is too rattled to really read it. “What . . . what? This says I give ownership of the club over to Reginald Arnold? The doorman? Are you out of your mind?”
“No, but I believe you may be, if you believe you could continue to treat your employees the way you've been treating them and get away with it.”
“Since when do the Power Rangers care about shit like this?”
“Maybe it's time we started to.” The Ranger points the sai at the new document. “Sign.”
Muttering under his breath, Mack signs his rights to the club away. He'll tear all this up later. Raises and health care are bad enough, but there's no way he's signing ownership of the club away!
“In any event, perhaps this sort of thing is part of our regular routine. You certainly aren’t privileged enough to know our usual method of operation.”
Angry but holding his tongue, Mack furiously signs the last document.
Just as suddenly as they appeared, the weapons disappear. “Thank you for your cooperation.” The Ranger collects all the documents, slipping them into a folder, which he places in the filing cabinet on the right. He neatly extracts all the old contracts and tucks them under his arm. “Now, if you'll kindly look this way, please.”
In his hand the Ranger now holds a slender black rod. At the very tip is a light. As Mack watches, the light suddenly flashes, far brighter than a camera flash.
Dazzled, Mack blinks a few times, but his vision doesn't clear. “Hello?”
A voice in the darkness says, “I want you to go have a drink or three at the bar and then get in your car and drive home very carefully, Mr. Simms. Can you do that?”
Mack blinks a few times, but can't focus his vision. His mind feels sluggish, and he's not sure exactly where he is. “Yeah. I can do that.” His eyes narrow. “Who is this?”
“That is not important. Go have a few drinks now. Good night, Mr. Simms. Thank you for your help.”
“Have a few drinks. Sure.” Mack gets to his feet and stumbles toward the door, nearly knocking over his hat rack. “Always happy to . . . uh. Always happy to help a customer.”
-
The streets are empty and quiet after one in the morning most Wednesdays, and tonight is no exception. To keep the stillness and fog rolling in at bay, there's really only one thing to do, and so Patrol Officer Skullovitch turns the police cruiser into the parking lot of a twenty-four hour doughnut shop.
“Sure could use some coffee about now, eh Bulky?” he says, shutting the engine down.
“I do believe it is that time , Skull. Brr!” He chaffs his hands. “Can't get over how cold it's gotten the last few days. It was 102°F last week!”
Skull laughs. “That's Southern California for you. You coming in? Probably warmer inside.” He unfastens his seat belt.
“Yeah, might as well. See what Don's up to these days.”
Within seconds of stepping out of the patrol car, they're dazzled by a flash of blue light, which clears to reveal one of the Power Rangers.
“Uhhh,” Bulk says, pointing.
“I see him. I see him.”
Neither officer moves, though Skull wants nothing more than to cling and hide behind Bulk. Holding his ground, Skull waits to see what happens.
“Good evening, officers,” the Ranger says, holding his empty hands up. “Hope I'm not disturbing your patrol route.”
“Uhhh, not at all,” Skull says.
Having regained some of his senses, Bulk gasps, “A Power Ranger!”
Skull glances over at Bulk and then takes a bold step forward. “What, uh, what can we do for you tonight, Mr. uh, Blue Ranger man?”
The Ranger tilts his head in a sort of polite nod. “We don't usually report these sorts of things, you understand, preferring to let the police deal with common criminals, but I was in the area and couldn't help but notice a drunk driver departing from 32nd and Broad in Devil's Cove. I realize that might be a little outside of your boys' jurisdiction, but I've got a funny feeling about the driver of that car and thought I had better report it to the next officer I saw.”
Abandoning the idea of coffee and doughnuts, Skull returns to the patrol car with a renewed sense of responsibility. “32nd and Broad, you said?” He picks up the radio dispatch.
Pulling up his belt, Bulk says, “We'll have an officer on the scene in minutes.”
“Can you give us a description of the vehicle?” Skull sticks his head out of the car door. “That's a pretty bad part of town.”
“As concerned as I was, I took the liberty of memorizing the license plate number. Would that help?”
Skull glances to Bulk and smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, that'll help.” It takes only a few seconds for Skull to get the information out and within minutes he's hearing reports on the radio confirming that the car is on the road and does appear to be driven by someone under the influence. “Should be taken care of in a few more minutes. Thanks for the tip.”
“Thank you.”
“Just doing our job,” Bulk proudly says.
“Is there uh, anything else we can help you with?”
The Blue Ranger tips his head again. “Not tonight. Keep up the good work.”
“Hey!” Bulk says. “You too!” He looks up at the sky briefly. “Are the space villains really back?”
“I'm afraid so, but don't you worry. We're always on the job. Thanks again!”
Before either of them can speak, the Blue Ranger disappears as quickly and brilliantly as he appeared.
For a moment, Skull feels like that couldn't have possibly just happened. It's only the soft squawks emitting from his dispatch radio confirming the arrest of a forty-three year old Caucasian male drunk driver in Devil's Cove that convinces him.
Without getting out of the driver seat, Skull looks through the windshield at Bulk still standing on the pavement. “I can't believe out of all the patrol officers out tonight, he came to us.”
Rather dazed, Bulk opens the passenger side door and heavily sits back down. “You . . . you don't suppose he recognized us, do you? From the times we helped the Rangers in the past?”
“Naaah,” Skull says, then reconsiders. “I mean. It's probably just a coincidence, right?”
Bulk shrugs elaborately. “Or maybe he knew we'd . . . you know, believe him.”
Skull shakes his head. “Nah. I mean, it's probably not even the same guy, you know? They've probably got a whole bunch of Blue Rangers.” His brow furrows. “You don't really think it's been the same guys doing it since whenever they first showed up, do you?”
Bulk shakes his head. “Man. I hope they get good overtime, if it is.”
Skull lets out a deep breath. “You still want coffee?”
“I think I just need to . . . process this a little longer.” He reaches out and turns up the volume on the radio dispatch. “Hey, Skull?”
“Yeah, Bulk?”
“What're we gonna do if they ask us how we knew about a drunk driver all the way over in Devil's Cove? They're never going to believe a Power Ranger tipped us off.”
“Yeah, huh. Not really one to put in the report, is it?”
As they listen to the radio, word comes through on the arrest, citing that in addition to the drunk driver, several kilos of illegal substances were found in the car-and a loaded, unlicensed handgun.
“We'll . . . we’ll just say we got an anonymous tip,” Bulk says. “I mean, that's what it was, right?”
Skull grips the steering wheel. “Right. Anonymous tip. Male, approximately five-foot seven? eight? Maybe one-forty?”
Bulk squints. “Dressed in blue.”
“Dark glasses on.”
“Yeah. Or . . . or a biker helmet.”
“Yeah. A blue biker helmet. Couldn't really see his face. Haha, that's good, Bulk.”
“I just hope, considering that it sounds like they just arrested a pretty dangerous guy, they don't ask . . .”
“. . . why we listened to a faceless biker's anonymous tip about a drunk driver several towns away.”
“Yeah.”
That's what goes into their report, though, and at least for the night, it passes without comment. Skull calls the Devil's Cove police station when he gets off work at four in the morning and confirms the arrest. It turns out that the guy has several warrants for his arrest out, from embezzlement to dog fighting, and has run a seedy nightclub in one of the worst parts of town for years.
Skull doesn't mention the Power Ranger to anyone, but keeping the secret gnaws at his insides. As he crawls into bed, he decides there has to be a reason the Ranger came to them. He doesn't sleep well, but is up and alert when his alarm goes off at eleven-thirty. He's out the door and at Ronnie's Cafe by noon to keep his lunch date.
“Hey, Kim,” he says, bending to kiss her cheek.
“Morning, Gene.” She kisses him back.
“How's your day been?” He settles into the seat across from her.
“Oh, hectic as always. You'd never know these lawyers went through college at all judging by the emails they send out. I mean, I may not type more than forty-five words a minute, but at least the words I do type are polite, spelled correctly and properly punctuated.”
Skull's not really listening, staring blankly at the menu. “Yeah, that's too bad.”
Kimberly pouts, nudging his leg under the table. “Hey, what's wrong? You're not listening; that’s not like you. Bad day at work?”
“No.” His brow furrows and he refocuses on her. Seeing Kimberly’s beautiful face smiling at him in concern helps reorganize his thoughts. How can he keep anything from her? Lowering his voice, he scoots his chair closer. “Something really strange did happen last night, though. Couldn't put it in my report. I don't think anyone would believe me.”
Kimberly looks suitably intrigued. “Do tell.”
Feeling suddenly defensive, Skull says, “Bulky was there, so he can confirm it.”
“Confirm what?”
Their relationship has been quite off and on lately, and mentioning the Power Rangers now that they've become active again might be a major turn off to her, or dredge up too many bad memories of his wild antics back in high school. Still, Skull believes he can trust her. “Last night, one of the Power Rangers just . . . dropped in on me and Bulk and told us to arrest this drunk driver he'd spotted. Funny thing is the guy was in Devil's Cove. Why would he tell two cops in Angel Grove about it?”
Kimberly's expression is unreadable.
Skull feels crushed. “You don't believe me, do you? I shouldn't have said anything.”
“No. No,” Kimberly says, shaking her head as if coming out of a daze. “It's really strange, but . . . I believe you. I really do. I mean, you have a history with the Rangers, after all, don’t you? Which, uh. Which Power Ranger was it?”
Skull's brow furrows. “The blue one. I guess he's the leader now, so that makes some sense. Right?”
“Right.”
“You think he picked me and Bulky for a reason? ‘Cause . . . ‘cause we really did help them a few times, back in the day. Not a whole lot, mind you, but it did happen. Maybe he remembered us?”
“I’m sure they remember you, but I don't know if that’s why he’d go to you,” Kimberly says, staring off into the distance. “The answer to that would certainly be interesting to find out . . . ”
-
It's been awhile since Billy's had to do so much teleporting in one day, so at first, even though it's never happened before, he thinks he just miscalculated and ended up in the Command Center instead of his living room.
“Blue Ranger!” Zordon's voice booms.
Billy turns to face him, a sinking sensation settling down around his shoulders. It's late. He's tired. This is not the time he wants to be having this conversation. “Hello, Zordon.” Billy takes his helmet off and runs a hand through his hair. “Waiting until the middle of the night when I'm dead on my feet to have this conversation. How apt.”
“In light of Master Vile’s return, your recent actions have concerned me.”
“You make it sound like they're connected.”
“Are they not in their own way? Your loyalty is to the Power Rangers and the protection of Earth.”
Even though he's just standing there, Billy feels his heart rate increase. His grip on his helmet tightens, but he keeps his voice steady and calm. “Surely you do not mean to suggest that my loyalty has wavered.”
“Your recent actions have given the impression you may be more concerned for the life of one human over your duties as a Power Ranger.”
“The . . . life of one human? Is that all Tommy is to you now? Do you realize he's the way he is now because of you?”
“I took no part in Rita's evil Green Ranger scheme.”
“Yes you did. You chose five teenagers from Angel Grove to be your Power Rangers. Rita would have never picked Tommy if you hadn't led her here first. And you certainly had no problem using him after her spell wore off.”
“Tommy chose to help the Rangers of his own volition.”
“He was sixteen!” To calm down, Billy has to look away from Zordon. “He hurt us when under Rita's spell. He felt obligated to help us once he was free. That guilt still gnaws at him. It may even yet destroy him.”
There's a lull while Zordon considers his words. “It is unfortunate that Tommy was not powerful enough to come away from his involvement with the Power Rangers a stronger individual.”
“Do you . . . have any idea what you're actually saying?” Billy shakes his head. “You destroyed him. You gave him these powers and when he couldn't cope with them, when he was no longer of any use to you, you abandoned him! Take some responsibility!”
“Oh, Billy,” Alpha says, waddling up out of the darkness. “Don't be too hard on Zordon. He really doesn't understand the finer points of human emotion.”
Billy doesn't take his eyes off Zordon. “Of course he does. He preaches to us about responsibility and loyalty all the time.”
“He knows what the concepts mean. He doesn't really understand them.”
“If that's true, then he has no right acting like he does. Especially not when he's risking the lives of kids, denying them help from external sources and abandoning them when they crack.”
“He means well.”
“Tell that to the mentally and physically scarred man trying to rest in my house right now. Tell it to Zack, who tells me he still has nightmares about Jason getting killed in the war. Tell it to Kim who gave up her dream to be in the Pan Global Games and a career in gymnastics to be a Power Ranger. Tell it to Adam, who never got to go to college and get the degree he always wanted because he was too busy helping save the world. Good intentions just aren't enough anymore.”
Zordon finally speaks. “It is exactly this kind of attitude that I fear is distracting you from what is important. It is only a matter of time before Master Vile launches another attack on Earth. Time needs to be dedicated to improving and reprogramming the zords and keeping your body and mind healthy in preparation for battle.”
Billy snorts. “I can hardly even do that last bit even without taking Tommy into consideration. Do you know how much a high school graduate in Southern California working at an IT firm makes annually?”
“But Billy--”
He holds up a hand to cut Alpha off. A strange calmness washes over him, and he feels suddenly at peace. With his eyes on Zordon, he asks, “Do you regret making me leader of the Power Rangers after the others chose to attend the International Peace Conference?”
“I believed I had chosen wisely then, and I still believe so now.”
The last of Billy's anger subsides. “Then believe me now. I know and understand the Rangers, as humans, better than you. We can't continue like this. Things have got to change. Things may be different on Eltar, but on Earth we all have needs that aren't being met.” Putting a hand to his head, he says, “For instance, because I'm talking to you, I'm missing on out much needed sleep.”
“You stole documents from a man and had him arrested instead of sleeping.”
“Yes. Small restitution for what he's done to Tommy.” Billy shakes his head. “I'm not going to let you manipulate me anymore, Zordon. Just be grateful that I'm not the one you abandoned and forgot. When I realized that you've known where Tommy's been all this time and never did anything to help him and never told us so we could help him, my first instinct was to come here and,” he reaches out with his left hand and, after pressing a few buttons, shuts all the power in the Command Center down save for Zordon, “destroy you.”
“Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi! Billy, no!”
“I assure you, Zordon, you don't want me as an enemy. I could cripple this place five times over from across town.” He keys up the main power again. “If you keep treating us the way you have been, it's only a matter of time before someone snaps and does something irrevocable. I don't want it to be me.” He doesn't feel as badly as he probably should at how threatening that sounds.
“I accept that whether or not I agree, there are some things important to humans that I have neglected to properly calculate for. What improvements do you propose?”
The sheer number of things Billy wants to change overwhelm him. “I'm too tired for that right now. The first one is taking care of the Rangers, former and present. That includes Tommy.”
“Very well,” Zordon says. “However, your skills are needed elsewhere. It would be preferable if his care was not your responsibility. ”
“Wouldn't it?” Billy smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. “We'll work on that later. For now, just trust me to do my job. I will take care of Tommy, I will get the zords repaired and operational with the Golden Eaglezord, and I will be a good leader to the Power Rangers.”
“It is a great deal of responsibility. Are you sure you can handle it?”
Zordon talking about responsibility just now almost makes Billy laugh. Perhaps he's getting a bit delirious after the long day he's had.
Alpha pipes up. “Billy has had a success rate of 98.89% over the last seven years, Zordon. I believe he can handle it.”
Billy's never loved the little tin can more. He turns his face toward Zordon. “Trust me.”
Zordon finally nods. “Then, may the Power protect you.”
Relieved, Billy teleports out, arriving in his living room unmorphed and even more exhausted because of it. The digital display on his microwave says it's nearly three in the morning. He's not quite sure where all the time went. Forgoing a shower for now, he hurries to the guest room and lets out a breath seeing Tommy still there, sound asleep.
Knowing that Tommy is going to wake up and be in more pain and have nothing to wear, Billy pushes aside his own weariness and, grabbing his car keys, heads out. There’s an all night store not too far away, where he buys some stronger painkillers and some clothes. It isn’t much because his credit card is still being declined, but he has enough cash to get Tommy some underwear, a pair of pajamas that will actually fit him, two pairs of jeans, a pack of three t-shirts and a light sweater.
It’s after four when he gets home and his arms feel twice their regular weight. He leaves some of the new painkillers on the night stand by Tommy's head, but not the whole bottle. Taking the clothes out of the bag, he sets them up on a nearby chair.
Then, too tired to do anything else, Billy goes into his own bedroom, changes into pajamas and crawls into bed. His brain whirls with thoughts of how to reform the Command Center, so Billy pulls the pillow over his head and starts one of his mental math equations guaranteed to distract his mind and put him to sleep.