Power Rangers: Whole (7/?), (Billy/Tommy), R.
Yay, enter Adam. He . . . has a way of taking over stories sometimes, doesn't he? Anyway, apologies for the lateness of this chapter. Complains should be sent to the Pathology department of UNC.
Title: Whole, chapter seven
Author: vandonovan
Pairing: eventually Billy/Tommy, with background Skull/Kim, Adam/Rocky, Jason/Zack and Aisha/OMC
Word count: 5,292 (this chapter)
Rating: R (this chapter)
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 seven:
The list of things Tommy doesn’t want to do far outweigh the ones he does. He likes to sleep. He likes to eat. He likes to shower. He doesn’t want to go to the doctor and he definitely doesn’t want to visit a therapist. He has no interest in even going outside. It’s not as bad during the daytime, but at night he hallucinates and dreams horrid things-even with the lights on. He knows it’s stressing Billy, but he finds it hard to care; he didn’t ask to be rescued.
That all changes when he opens the door to Billy’s pantry and notices how barren it is.
“Looks like it’s time to go grocery shopping.”
Billy’s sitting at his computer in the dining room, wearing his number crunching face. “All the food for the next week is prepared and in the freezer.” He doesn’t look up from the work he’s doing.
“But what about snacks? I’m just in the mood for some chips or something.”
“I can’t afford snacks.” Billy finally looks at him through the archway leading from the living room to the dining room. “If you’re hungry, I’ll heat something up.”
Tommy’s confused. He closes the pantry door and presses his back to it. “What do you mean you can’t afford it? Chips are like fifty cents.”
When Billy speaks, he does so matter-of-factly without a hint of accusation in his voice. “I put nearly a thousand dollars on my credit card over the last few weeks, and I’ve had to take the last week off of work. I don’t make enough to immediately pay all that off along with my regular bills. Money is going to be tight for a while.” He goes back to his computer. “You need to be eating healthier food anyway.”
Tommy stares at his feet. It makes him feel a little dizzy, but the pantry door is solid and supports him. He’s been here a week and has already cost Billy so much. Billy has to stay home to take care of Tommy, and now he’s got to buy enough food for the both of them on his meager salary.
It’s not fair.
At dinner that night, Tommy makes a decision. “That friend you mentioned the other day, about coming over to watch me while you’re at work?”
Billy’s suitably surprised. “Rocky?”
“Yeah.” Tommy feels his mouth trying to smile. “Funny name. Anyway, I was thinking . . . maybe it won’t be so bad to at least try it.”
Tommy knows agreeing to this means Billy could finally go to back to work, but he doesn’t leap on the opportunity, instead saying, “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone with a stranger if you’re not ready.”
“You said he’s a Ranger, right? So, he can’t be too much of a stranger. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’ll probably just sleep all day anyway.”
When Rocky arrives the next morning, Tommy starts to have doubts.
He’s more concerned about being alone with a strange guy than he anticipated, and for all his bright smiles and laughter, Rocky’s looks remind him more than a little of some of the gay men who came into the clubs to grope or call at him.
“I’m only twenty minutes away, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.” Billy looks from Rocky to Tommy. “That goes for you, too. All right? Promise me?”
Tommy can’t help but feel like a little kid. “I promise.”
“I really appreciate this, Rocky. I owe you one.”
“It’s no problem, man! Any friend of yours is a friend of mine!”
Soon, Billy’s gone and Tommy’s standing awkwardly in the middle of Billy’s living room with someone who encompasses the very picture of a dumb surfer. He can’t remember ever being in a weirder situation, and given his last six years, that’s saying something.
“So, you play a lot of video games?” Rocky asks, going right for Billy’s gaming console-a fancier version of the Nintendos that Tommy remembers of his youth-called PlayStation.
“Not really.” But Tommy sits on the floor beside him and takes one of the controllers when Rocky loads up a fighting game. He’s spent the last five years quite cut off from the world, and certainly video games, and quite promptly gets his digital ass handed to him.
“So, Billy says you used to be a Ranger?” Rocky doesn’t look away from the screen, and his tone remains completely conversational.
If Billy were here, Tommy knows he’d chastise Rocky for mentioning the Power Rangers. He’s surprised Billy even told Rocky. “Yeah.” He runs a hand into his curls. “It’s weird talking about that with . . . well, I mean, you’re a Ranger too, but I just met you.”
“Yeah.” Rocky grins at him. “It is weird, isn’t it?”
Rocky isn’t like Billy and certainly isn’t like Tommy. Being a Ranger did something to Tommy, and it wasn’t something good. It wasn’t so bad for Billy, but Tommy can tell it took its toll on him as well. Rocky’s light, though. His smile isn’t forced or insincere. He’s been through a war and he’s still happy and bright. On the television, Rocky beats Tommy’s character up again.
And he plays a mean fighting game. Tommy scowls. “Man, I can’t even figure out how to get this thing to jump!”
“You mean you’ve really never played this before? Oh man! I thought you were just joking! Here, let me give you a quick tutorial, then.”
Tommy’s pretty sure Rocky lets him win some of the next few matches, but he doesn’t mind. Rocky does it gracefully, and the game really is a lot more fun when Rocky’s taking it more easily.
After an hour, Rocky gets up and starts pulling the cushions off the couch.
“What’re you doing?” He knows they can go back into place easily, but he can too easily imagine the shocked expression on Billy’s face when he walks through the door.
“I hate sitting on carpet.” Rocky climbs onto one of the cushions. “That’s better.”
Tommy isn’t sure why Rocky doesn’t just sit on the couch, but it’s sort of silly and fun, so he climbs onto one of the other cushions himself. He has to admit, it is a lot more comfortable.
At lunchtime, Billy calls to check up on him. Tommy’s a little embarrassed at how relieved Billy sounds upon finding out things are fine. He proceeds to walk Rocky through preheating the oven and preparing lunch and acts surprised how little help Rocky needs.
When they get engrossed in video games again and burn it, Tommy doesn’t say anything when Rocky decides to hop in his car and pick up sandwiches. He’s only gone about twenty minutes, but being alone in Billy’s house is even stranger than being there with Rocky. He realizes it’s the first time he’s been alone since Billy rescued him from his apartment.
They don’t put the couch back together to eat their sandwiches. Instead, Rocky drags some of the dining room chairs into the living room, puts a few cushions over them and the couch and then covers the whole thing with a sheet. They eat their sandwiches in the pillow fort while watching old cartoons from the 70s.
Rocky’s lying on a cushion on his back, watching TV upside-down as he finishes his chips when Tommy decides he likes him. He’s just fun; not at all what he expected.
“So, what do you do when you’re not fighting space aliens or babysitting Billy’s wayward friends?”
“Oh, not a lot, really.” Rocky rolls onto his side. “I’ve got this dojo I teach classes in, but it isn’t doing very well.”
“You run a dojo?” Tommy blinks a few times. “That’s really cool.”
“Yeah. I used to think so, but the economy and all has been so bad since the war . . . Adam’s actually hoping the new attacks will inspire more kids to want to be Power Rangers.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. Jason and I ran a couple of karate classes back at Angel Grove. They were always super popular because of the Power Rangers.”
“You do martial arts, too?”
Tommy’s vision blurs. “I used to.”
“Why’d you stop?”
That’s the sort of question that requires a ten page explanation or none at all. “Just, you know. Stuff.”
“You must’ve been pretty good though, if you were teaching classes with Jason.”
Tommy refocuses, tilting his head. “You knew Jase?”
“Oh yeah. Of course. We met a couple times before he left for Switzerland. I’m the one who took over his power, you know, so it’s sort of like we’ve got this connection . . . and then of course he came back as the Gold Ranger during the war.”
“He did?” Tommy blinks. “I didn’t know that.” Something about it sits strangely inside him. “Gold Ranger, huh?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I . . . haven’t paid much attention to the news.”
“I’ll say!”
“Where is he now? I didn’t see him on TV the other day when the news covered the attack.”
“Oh, he’s retired now. He and Zack live up north somewhere.”
“So that makes you the leader?”
Rocky stares at him. “Me? What, no! Just cause I wear Jason’s old color? No, the leader’s Billy, of course. He likes to say he’s not or at least that he and Kim are equally in charge, but we all know he’s the best leader out of all of us. Man, the number of times his inventions have saved us . . .”
Tommy knows all of this discussion is going to give him more nightmares, and yet he can’t seem to stop asking questions. It’s strange; he’s never felt compelled to ask them of Billy. “Billy’s changed so much since I knew him . . .”
“Yeah, hasn’t he? I mean, I met him a while after you, but he was a super nerd back then. He’s still really smart, but a lot easier to understand now, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“There was a while there I thought only Adam’d be able to understand him.”
“Adam. You mentioned him before. He’s another Ranger?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s my partner and helps me run the dojo sometimes. He took over Zack’s powers.”
It’s strange to think that the people he saw on TV the other day weren’t his old friends. “It’s so weird talking about all this stuff after so long.”
“Yeah. I like it though. Zordon doesn’t let us tell anyone, so I’ve always got to keep it secret. It’s nice to open up, even if it is with a former Ranger.”
Lying down on the cushions, Tommy suppresses a yawn. “What about Trini? Who took over for her?”
“That’s our friend Aisha. We all went to Stone Canyon High together but transferred over to Angel Grove once we got the powers.”
“I missed all of that.” His eyes droop.
“Hey, you’re supposed to take your medicine before you fall asleep.” Rocky scrambles out of the pillow fort, threatening its integrity. He returns a short while later with a small plastic bag labeled neatly in Billy’s handwriting. Inside are all of Tommy’s pills. “Here you go. And a big glass of water.”
Tommy sits up to take them, settling back down on all of the cushions. It feels so strangely safe and warm under the sheet in the middle of the living room. “You know what? You’re all right, Rocky.”
Rocky beams at him. “I like you, too.”
--
Tommy’s asleep when Billy comes home, but he knows that Billy’s impressed with how Rocky handled the day. Rocky’s not off-put by Tommy’s strange behaviors. He has fun like a kid, but is responsible enough to be trusted. And, after an initial period of misgiving, Tommy warmed right up to him.
With business in Rocky’s dojo so poor, it’s something of a perfect solution to allow Billy to return to work without risking leaving Tommy alone for hours on end. Tommy likes it, too. Billy is fun, but he worries too much. When Rocky decides they have to have ice cream now, Tommy sits patiently in the living room, waiting for him to return.
And since Rocky doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, Tommy doesn’t act out to burden him.
He doesn’t want to burden Billy, either, but it’s different with him. Billy knew what he was getting into, and Billy can handle it. There are times when Rocky comes over, boredom and loneliness rolling off him, that Tommy feels like he’s the one babysitting Rocky.
“Adam works all day,” Rocky explains one day, “and does night classes all night.” He’s playing Tetris upside-down as he hangs off the edge of the couch. “Not that I’m complaining. He’s making all the money and working hard so he can get a better job making more, but I hardly ever see him.” He grins as he clears a particularly impressive number of lines. “Just means I’m bored and lonely a lot.”
“I thought you ran a dojo?”
“Oh, well, yeah. I teach classes Tuesday and Thursday nights, and a couple times on Saturday. It’s not really a big money maker though, and the classes have been getting progressively smaller. Adam’s supposed to teach with me, but he doesn’t have the time. So even when I’m there, doing something I love, it’s like . . . I’m still alone. You know?”
“Yeah.”
“What about you?” Rocky doesn’t take his eyes off the television.
“I don’t work.”
“Not ever?” He lets out a grunt as one of the pieces falls in the wrong spot.
“I . . . used to dance.” Tommy stares at his hands in his lap.
“Really?” Rocky glances over at him quickly. “Wouldn’t’ve taken you for the dancing type.”
“I don’t think I was very good at it.”
“So you’re not going to go back to it when you get better?”
If laughter didn’t elude Tommy so much these days, he would have laughed. “No. Those days are hopefully behind me.”
Grumbling as he messes up again, Rocky rolls off the couch and onto the floor, right-side up, so he can control the Tetris pieces better. “What’re you gonna do then?”
Tommy shrugs. “I . . . haven’t really thought about it.” He scratches at his scalp. “I’d actually once thought about . . .”
“About what?” Rocky gives him another glance.
“It’s going to come out wrong because of what you were just saying.”
“What? No it won’t!” When Rocky’s not looking, the pieces stack up to the top of the screen. “Ah, hell.” He tosses the controller down. “You can tell me!”
“Well. I’d actually thought about opening a karate school myself, when I was a kid.”
“You totally should!”
“Yours doesn’t seem to be doing so well, though.”
“That’s true.” Rocky shrugs. “But I think it’s just because I’m not a very good teacher. Anyway, with the Power Rangers more active, I bet business will pick up again!”
Tommy stares at the television. “Well, I’m out of practice, anyway.”
“You could always pick that back up again! What level were you?”
“Third degree black belt, actually.”
“That stuff is totally in your muscle memory, then! Dude, Tommy, we should totally spar sometime! I bet I could get you back into shape in no time.”
Tommy’s immediate reaction is to shut down. It has way too many negative associations. “Billy wouldn’t like that.”
“Sure he would! It’s great exercise and it’d be a lot of fun. Hey, you could come over while Adam’s in class. That’d probably give Billy some extra time to work on the zords, too. He keeps putting it off, and I know Zordon’s not happy about that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s got Alpha working on them in the meantime, but there are just some things that Billy really needs to be there for, I guess.”
The thought of practicing martial arts again quickens Tommy’s pulse and a cold sweat breaks out along his back. The idea doesn’t just unsettle him and make his anxieties flare-it terrifies him. It’s too close to being a Ranger again. It’s too close to Rita and his dark past. Despite the anxiety of not knowing what being in a dojo again will do to him, the thought of finding a way to get out of Billy’s hair for a little longer does appeal enough to override some of the initial terror. He knows it’s not the same; that it will be safe with Rocky. And he knows it’d make Rocky happy, and a little less lonely as well. “Well. Maybe once. Just to see what it’s like.”
“All right! This is going to be awesome!”
Tommy clenches his teeth, swallows down his fear and hopes he doesn’t prove Rocky horribly wrong.
--
Billy doesn’t love the idea, but not even he can find a fault with letting Rocky extend his Tommy-sitting hours into the evening so Billy can work on the zords.
The dojo isn’t anything fancy like Tommy had imagined. It’s just a store in a strip mall with all the furniture removed. The walls are mirrored, the windows are tinted and the floor is covered in mats. There’s an office and a bathroom and a big, empty parking lot.
Tommy scratches at the collar of his sweater. “I didn’t really have anything appropriate to wear.”
“No problem.” Rocky bounces on his toes a little and pulls his tank top off. “I wear a gi when I’ve got students, but I’m usually shirtless when I work out alone.”
Tommy doubts very much that Rocky would want to see him shirtless. “I . . . I think I’ll try it like this, for now.” He drops into a ready position.
“We should warm up with a kata. Do you remember any?”
Closing his eyes, Tommy thinks back. It’s hard to skip over the last six years of his life, but once he does his body starts to move accordingly. The positions really are locked into his muscle memory, and, he realizes, so is the mindset. There’s no Mack or Cat’s Beard or cocaine or Rangers or Rita in a kata. There’s just the exhalation of breath, the strike and the glide into the next position.
When he stops, he opens his eyes and finds Rocky staring at him, eyebrows raised. “You really haven’t done that in six years?”
Tommy pulls his hair off his sweaty neck. “Something like that.”
“I can already tell this is going to be a lot of fun.”
Rocky doesn’t fight him immediately. His goal isn’t to show Tommy how much better he is at this. Instead, he tests Tommy, judging his skill and strength and stamina. After only twenty minutes, Tommy is dripping sweat and breathing hard.
“Let’s take a break,” Rocky says, disappearing into the back office only to return moments later with two cups of water.
“Thanks, man.” Tommy drinks for a long time. “I had no idea just how out of shape I was.” His entire body screams for a bit of coke. There’s no doubt in his mind that if he took a little right now, he’d be able to give Rocky something of a run around.
“Yeah, but there’s some real skill there, too. You’ll get the endurance back in no time.”
Tommy doesn’t question Rocky’s absolutes. He only intended to visit his dojo the once, but now he’s not so sure. “I just need another five minutes, then we can train a little more.”
“Sure! Take your time!”
It’s even hotter just sitting there. He can feel the sweat forming in his hair, connecting into heavier drops that streak down his back in rivulets. It’s itchy under the sweater and claustrophobic. When he stands up a few minutes later, Tommy pulls his sweater halfway off before he realizes just what he’s doing.
He stops, but Rocky says, “You can put it in the office if you want.”
Completing the motion, Tommy pulls the sweater off, but just stands there holding it. He watches Rocky’s eyes sweep over the tattoos and nipple piercings, but his expression doesn’t change. He just drops into a starting pose and begins his own kata.
It’s much cooler without the sweater on.
Tommy folds it up, puts it in the office, and spends the next twenty minutes lightly sparring with Rocky.
That night, he tells Billy about his day over dinner and then crawls into bed just after nine o’clock, exhausted. Billy tries to talk to him for a bit, but he’s out within minutes without even a second thought for his sleeping pills.
--
Though Tommy didn’t expect to, he goes back to Rocky’s dojo several times. There’s something strangely comforting about it, and he definitely sleeps better after having worked out. Part of him suspects that he goes just to give Billy his space, but the rest of him knows he really does enjoy working out, even if it brings back the occasional bad memory. Very little these days doesn’t.
“Look, I got you your very own gi!” Rocky hands a neatly folded up pile of clothes to Tommy. “You ought to be a lot cooler wearing that.”
“Whoa, thanks! That’s really awesome of you.”
“Hey, it’s no problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”
Money has been so tight with Billy lately that Tommy hasn’t asked for anything, even though he’d like some elastic ties to hold back his hair and something more appropriate to train in than jeans or pajama boxers. In the back office, Tommy changes into the gi pants and does an experimental kick. It feels really good; like putting on an old, familiar skin. The crisp white color doesn’t have any bad associations, either, which is also refreshing.
When he pulls on the gi jacket, he frowns. Even without tying the first side down, he can tell his shoulders are too broad for it. He tries anyway, but the result is comical and uncomfortable. Sighing, he takes it off and folds it back up. He’s about to take it out to Rocky when he notices a small container full of rubber bands on the desk. Figuring it’ll be okay to take just one, he pulls his hair back into a ponytail, wincing as the rubber coils and pulls his hair.
Leaving his regular clothes behind, Tommy returns to the dojo where Rocky is warming up. “I’m really sorry about this, but the jacket is too small.”
“Hey, no reason to apologize for that! I should have known better. Let me see what size it is. We have a ton at the house, so I can get you a bigger one with no problem.”
Tommy hands it over, and then finds his feet gliding over the mats, feeling the energy of the room. The gi pants help his mentality so much. It’s like they want to do the kata with or without him.
Rocky throws the jacket over his shoulder. “Let me run back to my place real quick. I know we’ve got a bigger size. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh. Sure.” Tommy blinks once, knowing Billy would especially not like the idea of Rocky leaving him alone in the dojo. Tommy decides not to think about it. He’s here to warm up, and by the time Rocky returns, he wants to be ready.
It’s much easier to do with his long hair out of his face, wearing much more comfortable pants. Although he doesn’t sleep well and he sometimes still has hallucinations, Tommy can already tell his stamina is beginning to return. After twenty minutes of warming up, he’s sweaty and out of breath, but doesn’t feel like he’s about to pass out.
He finishes up just as he hears Rocky returning through the front door.
“What the fuck is this?”
The voice is not Rocky’s, and Tommy spins around in alarm. “Who’re you?”
“You’re asking me that?” The man’s eyes sweep over Tommy, reading the tattoos. “Jesus Christ. How did you get in here? Where the hell is Rocky?”
Suddenly self-conscious, Tommy crosses his arms ineffectually over his chest. “I’m . . . I’m a friend of Rocky’s, he just . . . he just went to get me a-” Tommy trails off as the man stalks closer. He’s fit and attractive and even though he’s supposed to be in night classes right now, Tommy can guess this is the co-owner of the dojo, Rocky’s partner Adam.
“What kind of sick fuck are you? Are you some sort of prostitute? Get the hell out of my dojo.”
Tommy’s mouth opens, but words have suddenly escaped him. His hackles have raised; all he wants to do is ameliorate the situation, and the easiest way to do that is to run. He starts for the door, and Adam spies the rest of his tattoos along his back. There’s a particularly large one somewhat dedicated to the Power Rangers there.
“Are you stalking us?” Adam matches Tommy’s speed toward the door.
“I don’t want any trouble!” Tommy puts his hands up. “I’m a friend of Rocky’s, I swear.”
“Rocky doesn’t need friends with ‘cocksucker’ and ‘whore’ tattooed on their chests. Kids come to train at this establishment! We don’t want any cracked out druggies here!”
“I’m not on drugs.”
“That’s why you’ve got eight-balls tattooed all along your arm, yeah?”
Tommy rubs them. “I’m not on drugs anymore. I use . . . I used to be a dancer and a user, but . . . I’m not anymore. Look, my shirt is in the back, let me just . . .”
“Like I’m going to fucking let a crazy crack whore like you into my back office? You’re lucky I’m not on the phone with the cops right now.” He glances around, his brow furrowing. “Rocky!” His eyes narrow.
“I told you, he went to get me a bigger gi jacket.”
“Yeah? Or maybe I should call the cops, huh? Rocky!”
It’s with immense relief that Tommy sees Rocky pull into the parking lot a few seconds later. “Look, there he is.” He feels his whole body starting to shiver and hugs himself. The adrenaline he amassed has dissipated; he’s starting to crash.
Adam’s eyes widen. “Rocky!”
Breaking into a jog, Rocky catches up with them. “Adam! What’re you doing-hey, Tommy, what’s wrong?”
His entrance into the dojo is barred by Adam’s strong arm. “You know this guy!?”
“Yeah. This is Tommy. I told you I was helping him out, remember?”
Adam’s jaw goes slack. “You mentioned you were helping Billy’s friend, not that he’s some crack whore!”
Rocky struggles against Adam’s arm. “Let me go! Something’s wrong with him.”
Adam doesn’t, but Rocky eventually breaks free anyway.
All Tommy’s aware of are Rocky’s big, warm hands on his clammy, bare flesh. He doesn’t remember walking, but suddenly there’s a chair beneath him and he’s sitting, teeth chattering. Rocky drapes the gi jacket over his shoulders, and Tommy realizes they’re in the back office.
Adam’s on the big black phone and Tommy doesn’t need to listen to the conversation to know he’s bitching Billy out. It’s enough to make Tommy sick, but he only manages to dry heave a little.
“I’m really sorry,” Rocky says, sounding absolutely miserable. “I had no idea he’d react this way.”
Though he appeared not to be paying attention, Adam covers the mouthpiece of the phone and stares at Rocky. “He’s a crack whore! In my dojo! With whore tattooed on his chest in giant black letters, as if you couldn’t tell, where anyone could see. We have children who come here, Rocky! And their parents! Do you want us to never work again? What were you thinking? No. Don’t answer that; you never think.” He turns his attention back to the phone. “As for you, the hell have you been thinking letting Rocky spend so much time alone with this guy!?”
Rocky frowns. “But he was a Ranger.”
Adam’s eyes widen. “The evil one, Rocky! The evil green one!”
“I should go.” Tommy tries to get to his feet and manages to do so by clinging to the door. He can tell Rocky’s torn between going after him and staying with Adam, and that suits him just fine. He gets out into the dojo, stumbling over the mats, and just hopes he can make it outside. He can’t breathe and his eyes are blurring up with water.
“Tommy, wait!”
The exit is so, so far away. Tommy knows he’ll never make it.
“-were you thinking, letting him come to a place where you know we train kids and . . . hello? Billy? Hello?”
Tommy stumbles once, and then there’s a brilliant flash of dazzling blue light and Billy’s standing there. Tommy doesn’t mean to do it, but his momentum takes him right into Billy’s arms, where he all but collapses.
Billy’s knees nearly buckle from the weight, but he braces himself and manages to hold Tommy up. “It’s all right.”
“Jesus, Billy!” Adam cries, voice coming out of the back office. “Those are windows! Anyone could’ve just seen you do that!”
“Does it appear I care?”
Billy’s voice is so cold and flat Tommy wants to recoil from him, and yet it’s so serious and authoratative he finds it strangely appealing.
“I can’t believe you’re actually . . . defending this guy.”
Rocky comes up from behind. “He’s my friend!”
“Stay out of this, Rocky.”
“No! I won’t! This is my fault. I left Tommy alone in the dojo to get him a bigger gi, even though Billy told me never to leave him alone. I had no idea you’d overreact like this!”
“I’m not overreacting! Do you know how much shit we could be in if one of our students had come here with their parents?!”
“But they didn’t. Jeez, Adam. It was an accident! No one is hurt.”
“The guy has ‘cocksucker’ tattooed across his chest!”
“You’ve never had a problem with cocksuckers before!”
“Enough!” Billy’s still holding Tommy, and the word reverberates through him. “I’ll sort this out in the morning. Right now, I need to get Tommy home. Rocky, I’m sorry for the trouble. Adam, I’m . . . I’m disappointed in you.”
“In me? Maybe I should go suck some cock for blow, would that make you respect me more?”
Billy doesn’t answer him, standing silently for several long, painful seconds. Then, without taking his arms from around Tommy, he hits his wrist communicator and they teleport out.
Tommy sits in Billy’s big easy chair, wrapped in a fleece blanket, and stares at his uncut toenails. Billy appears and presses a warm mug of something into his numb hands. Seconds tick loudly from the clock on the entertainment system.
“Adam was completely out of line.”
Tommy can’t see Billy, but he can hear him pacing. The mug is starting to warm his hands, but he doesn’t sip from it.
“I should have told him about you. I did tell him about you. I just didn’t go into details. I didn’t . . . I didn’t think he had the right to know.” He sighs. “I didn’t want him to judge you.”
In the calm, quiet safety of Billy’s house, Tommy’s not as upset as he thought he’d be. It’s only thinking of Rocky that really bothers him now. “I’ll miss him.”
“You’ll . . . what?”
“Rocky.”
Billy appears again, or at least his feet do, right in front of Tommy’s. Billy’s toenails are neatly trimmed and clean. “You’ll see Rocky again, I promise. Adam’s going to get over this.”
Title: Whole, chapter seven
Author: vandonovan
Pairing: eventually Billy/Tommy, with background Skull/Kim, Adam/Rocky, Jason/Zack and Aisha/OMC
Word count: 5,292 (this chapter)
Rating: R (this chapter)
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 seven:
The list of things Tommy doesn’t want to do far outweigh the ones he does. He likes to sleep. He likes to eat. He likes to shower. He doesn’t want to go to the doctor and he definitely doesn’t want to visit a therapist. He has no interest in even going outside. It’s not as bad during the daytime, but at night he hallucinates and dreams horrid things-even with the lights on. He knows it’s stressing Billy, but he finds it hard to care; he didn’t ask to be rescued.
That all changes when he opens the door to Billy’s pantry and notices how barren it is.
“Looks like it’s time to go grocery shopping.”
Billy’s sitting at his computer in the dining room, wearing his number crunching face. “All the food for the next week is prepared and in the freezer.” He doesn’t look up from the work he’s doing.
“But what about snacks? I’m just in the mood for some chips or something.”
“I can’t afford snacks.” Billy finally looks at him through the archway leading from the living room to the dining room. “If you’re hungry, I’ll heat something up.”
Tommy’s confused. He closes the pantry door and presses his back to it. “What do you mean you can’t afford it? Chips are like fifty cents.”
When Billy speaks, he does so matter-of-factly without a hint of accusation in his voice. “I put nearly a thousand dollars on my credit card over the last few weeks, and I’ve had to take the last week off of work. I don’t make enough to immediately pay all that off along with my regular bills. Money is going to be tight for a while.” He goes back to his computer. “You need to be eating healthier food anyway.”
Tommy stares at his feet. It makes him feel a little dizzy, but the pantry door is solid and supports him. He’s been here a week and has already cost Billy so much. Billy has to stay home to take care of Tommy, and now he’s got to buy enough food for the both of them on his meager salary.
It’s not fair.
At dinner that night, Tommy makes a decision. “That friend you mentioned the other day, about coming over to watch me while you’re at work?”
Billy’s suitably surprised. “Rocky?”
“Yeah.” Tommy feels his mouth trying to smile. “Funny name. Anyway, I was thinking . . . maybe it won’t be so bad to at least try it.”
Tommy knows agreeing to this means Billy could finally go to back to work, but he doesn’t leap on the opportunity, instead saying, “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone with a stranger if you’re not ready.”
“You said he’s a Ranger, right? So, he can’t be too much of a stranger. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’ll probably just sleep all day anyway.”
When Rocky arrives the next morning, Tommy starts to have doubts.
He’s more concerned about being alone with a strange guy than he anticipated, and for all his bright smiles and laughter, Rocky’s looks remind him more than a little of some of the gay men who came into the clubs to grope or call at him.
“I’m only twenty minutes away, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.” Billy looks from Rocky to Tommy. “That goes for you, too. All right? Promise me?”
Tommy can’t help but feel like a little kid. “I promise.”
“I really appreciate this, Rocky. I owe you one.”
“It’s no problem, man! Any friend of yours is a friend of mine!”
Soon, Billy’s gone and Tommy’s standing awkwardly in the middle of Billy’s living room with someone who encompasses the very picture of a dumb surfer. He can’t remember ever being in a weirder situation, and given his last six years, that’s saying something.
“So, you play a lot of video games?” Rocky asks, going right for Billy’s gaming console-a fancier version of the Nintendos that Tommy remembers of his youth-called PlayStation.
“Not really.” But Tommy sits on the floor beside him and takes one of the controllers when Rocky loads up a fighting game. He’s spent the last five years quite cut off from the world, and certainly video games, and quite promptly gets his digital ass handed to him.
“So, Billy says you used to be a Ranger?” Rocky doesn’t look away from the screen, and his tone remains completely conversational.
If Billy were here, Tommy knows he’d chastise Rocky for mentioning the Power Rangers. He’s surprised Billy even told Rocky. “Yeah.” He runs a hand into his curls. “It’s weird talking about that with . . . well, I mean, you’re a Ranger too, but I just met you.”
“Yeah.” Rocky grins at him. “It is weird, isn’t it?”
Rocky isn’t like Billy and certainly isn’t like Tommy. Being a Ranger did something to Tommy, and it wasn’t something good. It wasn’t so bad for Billy, but Tommy can tell it took its toll on him as well. Rocky’s light, though. His smile isn’t forced or insincere. He’s been through a war and he’s still happy and bright. On the television, Rocky beats Tommy’s character up again.
And he plays a mean fighting game. Tommy scowls. “Man, I can’t even figure out how to get this thing to jump!”
“You mean you’ve really never played this before? Oh man! I thought you were just joking! Here, let me give you a quick tutorial, then.”
Tommy’s pretty sure Rocky lets him win some of the next few matches, but he doesn’t mind. Rocky does it gracefully, and the game really is a lot more fun when Rocky’s taking it more easily.
After an hour, Rocky gets up and starts pulling the cushions off the couch.
“What’re you doing?” He knows they can go back into place easily, but he can too easily imagine the shocked expression on Billy’s face when he walks through the door.
“I hate sitting on carpet.” Rocky climbs onto one of the cushions. “That’s better.”
Tommy isn’t sure why Rocky doesn’t just sit on the couch, but it’s sort of silly and fun, so he climbs onto one of the other cushions himself. He has to admit, it is a lot more comfortable.
At lunchtime, Billy calls to check up on him. Tommy’s a little embarrassed at how relieved Billy sounds upon finding out things are fine. He proceeds to walk Rocky through preheating the oven and preparing lunch and acts surprised how little help Rocky needs.
When they get engrossed in video games again and burn it, Tommy doesn’t say anything when Rocky decides to hop in his car and pick up sandwiches. He’s only gone about twenty minutes, but being alone in Billy’s house is even stranger than being there with Rocky. He realizes it’s the first time he’s been alone since Billy rescued him from his apartment.
They don’t put the couch back together to eat their sandwiches. Instead, Rocky drags some of the dining room chairs into the living room, puts a few cushions over them and the couch and then covers the whole thing with a sheet. They eat their sandwiches in the pillow fort while watching old cartoons from the 70s.
Rocky’s lying on a cushion on his back, watching TV upside-down as he finishes his chips when Tommy decides he likes him. He’s just fun; not at all what he expected.
“So, what do you do when you’re not fighting space aliens or babysitting Billy’s wayward friends?”
“Oh, not a lot, really.” Rocky rolls onto his side. “I’ve got this dojo I teach classes in, but it isn’t doing very well.”
“You run a dojo?” Tommy blinks a few times. “That’s really cool.”
“Yeah. I used to think so, but the economy and all has been so bad since the war . . . Adam’s actually hoping the new attacks will inspire more kids to want to be Power Rangers.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. Jason and I ran a couple of karate classes back at Angel Grove. They were always super popular because of the Power Rangers.”
“You do martial arts, too?”
Tommy’s vision blurs. “I used to.”
“Why’d you stop?”
That’s the sort of question that requires a ten page explanation or none at all. “Just, you know. Stuff.”
“You must’ve been pretty good though, if you were teaching classes with Jason.”
Tommy refocuses, tilting his head. “You knew Jase?”
“Oh yeah. Of course. We met a couple times before he left for Switzerland. I’m the one who took over his power, you know, so it’s sort of like we’ve got this connection . . . and then of course he came back as the Gold Ranger during the war.”
“He did?” Tommy blinks. “I didn’t know that.” Something about it sits strangely inside him. “Gold Ranger, huh?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I . . . haven’t paid much attention to the news.”
“I’ll say!”
“Where is he now? I didn’t see him on TV the other day when the news covered the attack.”
“Oh, he’s retired now. He and Zack live up north somewhere.”
“So that makes you the leader?”
Rocky stares at him. “Me? What, no! Just cause I wear Jason’s old color? No, the leader’s Billy, of course. He likes to say he’s not or at least that he and Kim are equally in charge, but we all know he’s the best leader out of all of us. Man, the number of times his inventions have saved us . . .”
Tommy knows all of this discussion is going to give him more nightmares, and yet he can’t seem to stop asking questions. It’s strange; he’s never felt compelled to ask them of Billy. “Billy’s changed so much since I knew him . . .”
“Yeah, hasn’t he? I mean, I met him a while after you, but he was a super nerd back then. He’s still really smart, but a lot easier to understand now, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“There was a while there I thought only Adam’d be able to understand him.”
“Adam. You mentioned him before. He’s another Ranger?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s my partner and helps me run the dojo sometimes. He took over Zack’s powers.”
It’s strange to think that the people he saw on TV the other day weren’t his old friends. “It’s so weird talking about all this stuff after so long.”
“Yeah. I like it though. Zordon doesn’t let us tell anyone, so I’ve always got to keep it secret. It’s nice to open up, even if it is with a former Ranger.”
Lying down on the cushions, Tommy suppresses a yawn. “What about Trini? Who took over for her?”
“That’s our friend Aisha. We all went to Stone Canyon High together but transferred over to Angel Grove once we got the powers.”
“I missed all of that.” His eyes droop.
“Hey, you’re supposed to take your medicine before you fall asleep.” Rocky scrambles out of the pillow fort, threatening its integrity. He returns a short while later with a small plastic bag labeled neatly in Billy’s handwriting. Inside are all of Tommy’s pills. “Here you go. And a big glass of water.”
Tommy sits up to take them, settling back down on all of the cushions. It feels so strangely safe and warm under the sheet in the middle of the living room. “You know what? You’re all right, Rocky.”
Rocky beams at him. “I like you, too.”
--
Tommy’s asleep when Billy comes home, but he knows that Billy’s impressed with how Rocky handled the day. Rocky’s not off-put by Tommy’s strange behaviors. He has fun like a kid, but is responsible enough to be trusted. And, after an initial period of misgiving, Tommy warmed right up to him.
With business in Rocky’s dojo so poor, it’s something of a perfect solution to allow Billy to return to work without risking leaving Tommy alone for hours on end. Tommy likes it, too. Billy is fun, but he worries too much. When Rocky decides they have to have ice cream now, Tommy sits patiently in the living room, waiting for him to return.
And since Rocky doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, Tommy doesn’t act out to burden him.
He doesn’t want to burden Billy, either, but it’s different with him. Billy knew what he was getting into, and Billy can handle it. There are times when Rocky comes over, boredom and loneliness rolling off him, that Tommy feels like he’s the one babysitting Rocky.
“Adam works all day,” Rocky explains one day, “and does night classes all night.” He’s playing Tetris upside-down as he hangs off the edge of the couch. “Not that I’m complaining. He’s making all the money and working hard so he can get a better job making more, but I hardly ever see him.” He grins as he clears a particularly impressive number of lines. “Just means I’m bored and lonely a lot.”
“I thought you ran a dojo?”
“Oh, well, yeah. I teach classes Tuesday and Thursday nights, and a couple times on Saturday. It’s not really a big money maker though, and the classes have been getting progressively smaller. Adam’s supposed to teach with me, but he doesn’t have the time. So even when I’m there, doing something I love, it’s like . . . I’m still alone. You know?”
“Yeah.”
“What about you?” Rocky doesn’t take his eyes off the television.
“I don’t work.”
“Not ever?” He lets out a grunt as one of the pieces falls in the wrong spot.
“I . . . used to dance.” Tommy stares at his hands in his lap.
“Really?” Rocky glances over at him quickly. “Wouldn’t’ve taken you for the dancing type.”
“I don’t think I was very good at it.”
“So you’re not going to go back to it when you get better?”
If laughter didn’t elude Tommy so much these days, he would have laughed. “No. Those days are hopefully behind me.”
Grumbling as he messes up again, Rocky rolls off the couch and onto the floor, right-side up, so he can control the Tetris pieces better. “What’re you gonna do then?”
Tommy shrugs. “I . . . haven’t really thought about it.” He scratches at his scalp. “I’d actually once thought about . . .”
“About what?” Rocky gives him another glance.
“It’s going to come out wrong because of what you were just saying.”
“What? No it won’t!” When Rocky’s not looking, the pieces stack up to the top of the screen. “Ah, hell.” He tosses the controller down. “You can tell me!”
“Well. I’d actually thought about opening a karate school myself, when I was a kid.”
“You totally should!”
“Yours doesn’t seem to be doing so well, though.”
“That’s true.” Rocky shrugs. “But I think it’s just because I’m not a very good teacher. Anyway, with the Power Rangers more active, I bet business will pick up again!”
Tommy stares at the television. “Well, I’m out of practice, anyway.”
“You could always pick that back up again! What level were you?”
“Third degree black belt, actually.”
“That stuff is totally in your muscle memory, then! Dude, Tommy, we should totally spar sometime! I bet I could get you back into shape in no time.”
Tommy’s immediate reaction is to shut down. It has way too many negative associations. “Billy wouldn’t like that.”
“Sure he would! It’s great exercise and it’d be a lot of fun. Hey, you could come over while Adam’s in class. That’d probably give Billy some extra time to work on the zords, too. He keeps putting it off, and I know Zordon’s not happy about that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s got Alpha working on them in the meantime, but there are just some things that Billy really needs to be there for, I guess.”
The thought of practicing martial arts again quickens Tommy’s pulse and a cold sweat breaks out along his back. The idea doesn’t just unsettle him and make his anxieties flare-it terrifies him. It’s too close to being a Ranger again. It’s too close to Rita and his dark past. Despite the anxiety of not knowing what being in a dojo again will do to him, the thought of finding a way to get out of Billy’s hair for a little longer does appeal enough to override some of the initial terror. He knows it’s not the same; that it will be safe with Rocky. And he knows it’d make Rocky happy, and a little less lonely as well. “Well. Maybe once. Just to see what it’s like.”
“All right! This is going to be awesome!”
Tommy clenches his teeth, swallows down his fear and hopes he doesn’t prove Rocky horribly wrong.
--
Billy doesn’t love the idea, but not even he can find a fault with letting Rocky extend his Tommy-sitting hours into the evening so Billy can work on the zords.
The dojo isn’t anything fancy like Tommy had imagined. It’s just a store in a strip mall with all the furniture removed. The walls are mirrored, the windows are tinted and the floor is covered in mats. There’s an office and a bathroom and a big, empty parking lot.
Tommy scratches at the collar of his sweater. “I didn’t really have anything appropriate to wear.”
“No problem.” Rocky bounces on his toes a little and pulls his tank top off. “I wear a gi when I’ve got students, but I’m usually shirtless when I work out alone.”
Tommy doubts very much that Rocky would want to see him shirtless. “I . . . I think I’ll try it like this, for now.” He drops into a ready position.
“We should warm up with a kata. Do you remember any?”
Closing his eyes, Tommy thinks back. It’s hard to skip over the last six years of his life, but once he does his body starts to move accordingly. The positions really are locked into his muscle memory, and, he realizes, so is the mindset. There’s no Mack or Cat’s Beard or cocaine or Rangers or Rita in a kata. There’s just the exhalation of breath, the strike and the glide into the next position.
When he stops, he opens his eyes and finds Rocky staring at him, eyebrows raised. “You really haven’t done that in six years?”
Tommy pulls his hair off his sweaty neck. “Something like that.”
“I can already tell this is going to be a lot of fun.”
Rocky doesn’t fight him immediately. His goal isn’t to show Tommy how much better he is at this. Instead, he tests Tommy, judging his skill and strength and stamina. After only twenty minutes, Tommy is dripping sweat and breathing hard.
“Let’s take a break,” Rocky says, disappearing into the back office only to return moments later with two cups of water.
“Thanks, man.” Tommy drinks for a long time. “I had no idea just how out of shape I was.” His entire body screams for a bit of coke. There’s no doubt in his mind that if he took a little right now, he’d be able to give Rocky something of a run around.
“Yeah, but there’s some real skill there, too. You’ll get the endurance back in no time.”
Tommy doesn’t question Rocky’s absolutes. He only intended to visit his dojo the once, but now he’s not so sure. “I just need another five minutes, then we can train a little more.”
“Sure! Take your time!”
It’s even hotter just sitting there. He can feel the sweat forming in his hair, connecting into heavier drops that streak down his back in rivulets. It’s itchy under the sweater and claustrophobic. When he stands up a few minutes later, Tommy pulls his sweater halfway off before he realizes just what he’s doing.
He stops, but Rocky says, “You can put it in the office if you want.”
Completing the motion, Tommy pulls the sweater off, but just stands there holding it. He watches Rocky’s eyes sweep over the tattoos and nipple piercings, but his expression doesn’t change. He just drops into a starting pose and begins his own kata.
It’s much cooler without the sweater on.
Tommy folds it up, puts it in the office, and spends the next twenty minutes lightly sparring with Rocky.
That night, he tells Billy about his day over dinner and then crawls into bed just after nine o’clock, exhausted. Billy tries to talk to him for a bit, but he’s out within minutes without even a second thought for his sleeping pills.
--
Though Tommy didn’t expect to, he goes back to Rocky’s dojo several times. There’s something strangely comforting about it, and he definitely sleeps better after having worked out. Part of him suspects that he goes just to give Billy his space, but the rest of him knows he really does enjoy working out, even if it brings back the occasional bad memory. Very little these days doesn’t.
“Look, I got you your very own gi!” Rocky hands a neatly folded up pile of clothes to Tommy. “You ought to be a lot cooler wearing that.”
“Whoa, thanks! That’s really awesome of you.”
“Hey, it’s no problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”
Money has been so tight with Billy lately that Tommy hasn’t asked for anything, even though he’d like some elastic ties to hold back his hair and something more appropriate to train in than jeans or pajama boxers. In the back office, Tommy changes into the gi pants and does an experimental kick. It feels really good; like putting on an old, familiar skin. The crisp white color doesn’t have any bad associations, either, which is also refreshing.
When he pulls on the gi jacket, he frowns. Even without tying the first side down, he can tell his shoulders are too broad for it. He tries anyway, but the result is comical and uncomfortable. Sighing, he takes it off and folds it back up. He’s about to take it out to Rocky when he notices a small container full of rubber bands on the desk. Figuring it’ll be okay to take just one, he pulls his hair back into a ponytail, wincing as the rubber coils and pulls his hair.
Leaving his regular clothes behind, Tommy returns to the dojo where Rocky is warming up. “I’m really sorry about this, but the jacket is too small.”
“Hey, no reason to apologize for that! I should have known better. Let me see what size it is. We have a ton at the house, so I can get you a bigger one with no problem.”
Tommy hands it over, and then finds his feet gliding over the mats, feeling the energy of the room. The gi pants help his mentality so much. It’s like they want to do the kata with or without him.
Rocky throws the jacket over his shoulder. “Let me run back to my place real quick. I know we’ve got a bigger size. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh. Sure.” Tommy blinks once, knowing Billy would especially not like the idea of Rocky leaving him alone in the dojo. Tommy decides not to think about it. He’s here to warm up, and by the time Rocky returns, he wants to be ready.
It’s much easier to do with his long hair out of his face, wearing much more comfortable pants. Although he doesn’t sleep well and he sometimes still has hallucinations, Tommy can already tell his stamina is beginning to return. After twenty minutes of warming up, he’s sweaty and out of breath, but doesn’t feel like he’s about to pass out.
He finishes up just as he hears Rocky returning through the front door.
“What the fuck is this?”
The voice is not Rocky’s, and Tommy spins around in alarm. “Who’re you?”
“You’re asking me that?” The man’s eyes sweep over Tommy, reading the tattoos. “Jesus Christ. How did you get in here? Where the hell is Rocky?”
Suddenly self-conscious, Tommy crosses his arms ineffectually over his chest. “I’m . . . I’m a friend of Rocky’s, he just . . . he just went to get me a-” Tommy trails off as the man stalks closer. He’s fit and attractive and even though he’s supposed to be in night classes right now, Tommy can guess this is the co-owner of the dojo, Rocky’s partner Adam.
“What kind of sick fuck are you? Are you some sort of prostitute? Get the hell out of my dojo.”
Tommy’s mouth opens, but words have suddenly escaped him. His hackles have raised; all he wants to do is ameliorate the situation, and the easiest way to do that is to run. He starts for the door, and Adam spies the rest of his tattoos along his back. There’s a particularly large one somewhat dedicated to the Power Rangers there.
“Are you stalking us?” Adam matches Tommy’s speed toward the door.
“I don’t want any trouble!” Tommy puts his hands up. “I’m a friend of Rocky’s, I swear.”
“Rocky doesn’t need friends with ‘cocksucker’ and ‘whore’ tattooed on their chests. Kids come to train at this establishment! We don’t want any cracked out druggies here!”
“I’m not on drugs.”
“That’s why you’ve got eight-balls tattooed all along your arm, yeah?”
Tommy rubs them. “I’m not on drugs anymore. I use . . . I used to be a dancer and a user, but . . . I’m not anymore. Look, my shirt is in the back, let me just . . .”
“Like I’m going to fucking let a crazy crack whore like you into my back office? You’re lucky I’m not on the phone with the cops right now.” He glances around, his brow furrowing. “Rocky!” His eyes narrow.
“I told you, he went to get me a bigger gi jacket.”
“Yeah? Or maybe I should call the cops, huh? Rocky!”
It’s with immense relief that Tommy sees Rocky pull into the parking lot a few seconds later. “Look, there he is.” He feels his whole body starting to shiver and hugs himself. The adrenaline he amassed has dissipated; he’s starting to crash.
Adam’s eyes widen. “Rocky!”
Breaking into a jog, Rocky catches up with them. “Adam! What’re you doing-hey, Tommy, what’s wrong?”
His entrance into the dojo is barred by Adam’s strong arm. “You know this guy!?”
“Yeah. This is Tommy. I told you I was helping him out, remember?”
Adam’s jaw goes slack. “You mentioned you were helping Billy’s friend, not that he’s some crack whore!”
Rocky struggles against Adam’s arm. “Let me go! Something’s wrong with him.”
Adam doesn’t, but Rocky eventually breaks free anyway.
All Tommy’s aware of are Rocky’s big, warm hands on his clammy, bare flesh. He doesn’t remember walking, but suddenly there’s a chair beneath him and he’s sitting, teeth chattering. Rocky drapes the gi jacket over his shoulders, and Tommy realizes they’re in the back office.
Adam’s on the big black phone and Tommy doesn’t need to listen to the conversation to know he’s bitching Billy out. It’s enough to make Tommy sick, but he only manages to dry heave a little.
“I’m really sorry,” Rocky says, sounding absolutely miserable. “I had no idea he’d react this way.”
Though he appeared not to be paying attention, Adam covers the mouthpiece of the phone and stares at Rocky. “He’s a crack whore! In my dojo! With whore tattooed on his chest in giant black letters, as if you couldn’t tell, where anyone could see. We have children who come here, Rocky! And their parents! Do you want us to never work again? What were you thinking? No. Don’t answer that; you never think.” He turns his attention back to the phone. “As for you, the hell have you been thinking letting Rocky spend so much time alone with this guy!?”
Rocky frowns. “But he was a Ranger.”
Adam’s eyes widen. “The evil one, Rocky! The evil green one!”
“I should go.” Tommy tries to get to his feet and manages to do so by clinging to the door. He can tell Rocky’s torn between going after him and staying with Adam, and that suits him just fine. He gets out into the dojo, stumbling over the mats, and just hopes he can make it outside. He can’t breathe and his eyes are blurring up with water.
“Tommy, wait!”
The exit is so, so far away. Tommy knows he’ll never make it.
“-were you thinking, letting him come to a place where you know we train kids and . . . hello? Billy? Hello?”
Tommy stumbles once, and then there’s a brilliant flash of dazzling blue light and Billy’s standing there. Tommy doesn’t mean to do it, but his momentum takes him right into Billy’s arms, where he all but collapses.
Billy’s knees nearly buckle from the weight, but he braces himself and manages to hold Tommy up. “It’s all right.”
“Jesus, Billy!” Adam cries, voice coming out of the back office. “Those are windows! Anyone could’ve just seen you do that!”
“Does it appear I care?”
Billy’s voice is so cold and flat Tommy wants to recoil from him, and yet it’s so serious and authoratative he finds it strangely appealing.
“I can’t believe you’re actually . . . defending this guy.”
Rocky comes up from behind. “He’s my friend!”
“Stay out of this, Rocky.”
“No! I won’t! This is my fault. I left Tommy alone in the dojo to get him a bigger gi, even though Billy told me never to leave him alone. I had no idea you’d overreact like this!”
“I’m not overreacting! Do you know how much shit we could be in if one of our students had come here with their parents?!”
“But they didn’t. Jeez, Adam. It was an accident! No one is hurt.”
“The guy has ‘cocksucker’ tattooed across his chest!”
“You’ve never had a problem with cocksuckers before!”
“Enough!” Billy’s still holding Tommy, and the word reverberates through him. “I’ll sort this out in the morning. Right now, I need to get Tommy home. Rocky, I’m sorry for the trouble. Adam, I’m . . . I’m disappointed in you.”
“In me? Maybe I should go suck some cock for blow, would that make you respect me more?”
Billy doesn’t answer him, standing silently for several long, painful seconds. Then, without taking his arms from around Tommy, he hits his wrist communicator and they teleport out.
Tommy sits in Billy’s big easy chair, wrapped in a fleece blanket, and stares at his uncut toenails. Billy appears and presses a warm mug of something into his numb hands. Seconds tick loudly from the clock on the entertainment system.
“Adam was completely out of line.”
Tommy can’t see Billy, but he can hear him pacing. The mug is starting to warm his hands, but he doesn’t sip from it.
“I should have told him about you. I did tell him about you. I just didn’t go into details. I didn’t . . . I didn’t think he had the right to know.” He sighs. “I didn’t want him to judge you.”
In the calm, quiet safety of Billy’s house, Tommy’s not as upset as he thought he’d be. It’s only thinking of Rocky that really bothers him now. “I’ll miss him.”
“You’ll . . . what?”
“Rocky.”
Billy appears again, or at least his feet do, right in front of Tommy’s. Billy’s toenails are neatly trimmed and clean. “You’ll see Rocky again, I promise. Adam’s going to get over this.”