Bright Skies (Multi - Season Crossover/Power Rangers, prompt #95: Found, T)
Akume: -Ponders- How many injuries should Eric have? If he's supposed to be unconscious for an hour or two, and it takes him about two hours to find his way back to base?
phantom_blue: LOTS!
Akume: So far I'm thinking concussion and bruised and/or cracked ribs. Probably a sprained ankle.
Akume: Any requests?
phantomblue: Something little Wes can kiss better?
Challon86: And a couple random gashes somewheres
phantom_blue: BRB
Challon86: 'kays
Akume: -Giggles- 'kay.
Akume: Okay: Concussion
Bruised/Cracked Ribs
Sprained Ankle
Knuckles on Left Hand Popped Out of Joint
Akume: More? Less?
Akume: Ooh, a blaster burn to the shoulder.
Challon86: Ooh I like that
Akume: -Grins-
Akume: I swear I love Eric. Really, I do.
Akume: I find it entirely too appropriate that I'm writing EricTorture while drinking green tea from a mug that says 'Shit Happens'.
Author/: Tsukino Akume
Fandom/: Power Rangers Time Force moving into S.P.D., multiple Rangers from each season
Characters/: Wes (Time Force), multiple Rangers from other teams (Literally too many to list)
Pairings/: Wes/Eric, R.J./O.C., Rocky/Adam, Zack/Aisha, T.J./O.C., Justin/Rose, Carter/Ryan, Shane/Dustin, Hunter/Cam, Andros/Ashley, Zhane/Karone, Carlos/Ronny, Jason/Taylor, Tommy/Kimberly, Tyzonn/Mack, Cassie/OC, Z/Syd, Jack/Charlie, Sky/Bridge, and probably some others I'm forgetting.
prompt/: #95: Found
Rating/: T (For non - graphic mentions of people having babies and being violent with one another)
Disclaimer/: I don't own the Power Rangers, but if Disney's hiring any new writers I volunteer.
Summary/: When Wes' life starts to fall apart, an accident gives him a chance at a fresh start in New Tech City, with Space Patrol Delta. But even a new life has its ups and downs - and weird friends. Meanwhile, Eric tries to move on.
Warnings/: A mentally handicapped person living in a medical facility, angst, male and female slash, non-cemented couples (In otherwords, pairings that will be separated), children created by scientific means, character death
Author's Notes/: I hated the original version of this chapter because it didn't seem to fit in with the story very well. So I rewrote it. This version was *much* more fun. -Evil grin-
For Challon86 and phantom_blue, who put up with all my whining, babbling, and complaining as I tried to write this chapter and encouraged me along the way. (And extra love to phantom_blue for beta work.) You're both awesome. ♥
Wes had an ability to know when things were going to happen. Whether it was something that came from his morpher, the Battle Fire, or just Wes being ... Wes, was hard to say. All that anyone knew for sure was that when something bad was coming, Wes knew about it. Occasionally he could tell when something good was on the way, but he was better at judging bad. Zhane liked to refer to him as 'The Prophet of Doom'.
Eric didn't have any special psychic powers. What he *did* have was excellent observational skills. While he was lousy at meeting new people, he was great at reading them. And who needed social skills when the only people he cared about having in his life were already in it?
He knew his friends. He knew Vanessa would always do the opposite of what she was told. Taylor would only follow orders if she trusted the person giving them, or when she didn't have a 'better' idea. Justin *always* had a better idea, but you never wanted to ask him to explain it. Jason wasn't as arrogant as he liked to pretend, but Hunter was. Tommy, surprisingly, never knew as much about what was going on as he seemed to, but whatever he didn't know, Kimberly did. Don't mess with Kimberly. Never hide an injury from Aisha or Ashley - it's not worth it. Karone has a nasty streak hiding behind all that innocence, and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. Zhane enjoys being obnoxious, but he's one of the first people you on your side in a fight. Andros is one of the most stubbornly loyal people he has ever known, second only to Carter.
He will never, ever, understand R.J.
Yet there were two people he knew to a point that bordered on mind-reading at times: Wes, and Sky. Sky, because after four years of being the only father figure the kid had, they'd become closer than Eric could ever have imagined himself with a kid. And Wes, because after a year and a half of school, two years as Rangers and slowly becoming friends, seven years as a couple, and now as more than that, there was no way he *couldn't* know him.
Which is why, when he saw Red Time Force fight his way to Blue Turbo and his car, he knew something bad was going to come of it. Because Wes was a trouble magnet, and if anything was going to wrong in this fight, Wes would be in the center of it.
So the moment he heard Turbo shouting "Time!" without hearing Wes answer back, he absolutely did not panic. He swore as much as he was able, knocking a Krybot flying into the one behind it with more force than may have been strictly necessary, but it was understandable. Wes was about to do something stupid again, and he was going to have to save him. Again.
Instead of panicking, he very calmly grabbed Sky's patrol bike out of the barricade they'd set up and threw a leg over while starting it up. "I'm going after Wes!" he announced, not particularly caring if anyone heard him or not.
A hand grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy?!" Yellow Lightspeed snarled at him. "You can't just take off! We're in the middle of a fight here!"
"You can handle it without me," he said shortly, shifting into gear and lifting his foot off the ground. "Wes needs help." He brushed her arm off and gunned the bike.
"You *prick*! Get back here!"
Sky was right, he thought absently as he pulled the Quantum Defender and shot at several Kybots as he passed. This thing definitely needs a tune-up.
****
The Krybots were *everywhere*. It seemed like no matter how many he shot down, there was always more to take their place. The blasted things just didn't *end*.
Even worse, they weren't the only things on the street.
"Let her go!" he snarled, snapping the Quantum Defender into sword mode with one hand. He slashed the Krybot across the chest, elbowing it sharply in the next movement to send it crashing to the ground. The woman it had been holding onto stumbled, but the other one still had a firm grip on her arm. At least it had, until he removed the arm from its body in a single slice.
The woman shrieked, and he shifted the Defender back to blaster mode, shoving it back into its holster. He pried the fingers of the arm free, tossing it aside. "Are you all right, ma'am?" he pressed, trying to force himself to sound gentle.
"I - I - "
He suppressed a sigh. He didn't have time for this. "Go to the shelter," he cut her off, squeezing her shoulder lightly. "There's one on Fifth Street. You'll be safe there." She stared at him blankly, quivering, and he gave her a light push in the right direction. "Go!"
"I ... thank you!" she blurted, still shaking. "Thank you so much!"
He nodded swiftly, gesturing again. "Go!" he insisted, watching briefly as she took off running.
He shook his head once she was gone, grabbing the Defender again and taking a moment to survey the street. No more civilians that he could see. Unfortunately no sign of Wes either, and that was definitely not good. "Probably neck-deep in trouble," he muttered to himself irritably, pausing to shoot at another group of Krybots as they came around the corner of the building across from him.
Wes, where *are* you?
He'd thought he was following in the only direction Wes could have gone, but now he wasn't so sure. He should have caught up with him by now. At this point he was wishing he'd thought to summon the TF Eagle instead, but that would mean abandoning Sky's patrol bike in the middle of downtown, and he'd never hear the end of it even if he dared to try. Besides, the Eagle only had seating for one; at least with Sky's bike he'd be able to take Wes back without having to strap him to something so he wouldn't fall.
He's fine, he told himself firmly, shaking his head and shooting at another group of Krybots as he continued down the street. He's probably just lost somewhere. We'll meet up in a couple blocks, and he'll be absolutely fine. Heck, knowing our luck, he'll probably be the one bailing *me* out of trouble again.
He sighed, steering the bike straight into the rest of the Krybots, firing at them as they scrambled to move out of his way. He ducked under a return blast absently, shaking his head again with another internal sigh. Who am I kidding? This is *Wes*. Of *course* he's in trouble.
The further away from S.P.D. he drove, the worse the destruction became. He rescued more people than he could keep track of, mostly small groups who were easy to free and send off towards the nearest safe place. The worst was the group from school: twelve kids ranging from kindergarten through fifth grade, with two teachers and someone's older brother from the high school. The Krybots hadn't been too difficult, but the kids were scared and crying, the teachers didn't want him to leave them alone, and the teenager was sporting a broken arm.
"Look," he said loudly, cutting into the argument as he struggled to keep his temper. "I can take you to a shelter. But I can't stay with you. There's too many other people out here that need my help. That's the best I can do."
The grateful looks they gave him made him feel guilty for hesitating in the first place.
"Okay, come on." He grabbed a couple of the smaller kids, setting them one after another on the bike. He managed to squeeze one more on it, looking them all over carefully. They were exhausted, but no one was hurt too badly. "Okay. I need all of you to hang on tight to each other, okay?"
They nodded eagerly, and the girl in the middle eeped as the boy behind her grabbed on a little too tightly.
"I won't let you fall," he assured them. "Just sit tight, okay?"
They nodded again, and the tiny girl in the front dared to give him a shy smile. He smiled back at her before he remembered she wouldn't see it behind his helmet.
He shook his head ruefully, glancing over the group before finally settling on the smallest boy. He looked like he was barely out of preschool, his blue eyes wide and scared. His right thumb was firmly stuck in his mouth.
He shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. The kid looked too much like Sky at that age. Keeping a firm grip on the bike, he leaned down to the kid. "Hey. You want a piggyback ride?" he offered gently.
The boy hesitated.
"It's better than walking," he pressed.
There was a pause, and at last the boy nodded feverently.
He smiled briefly, holding out an arm and waiting for the kid to come closer. "I won't drop you," he promised as the boy hesitated again.
A tiny hand closed around his, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He was rewarded with a very small, tentative smile. The thumb remained where it was.
It wasn't easy, keeping an eye out for Krybots and walking down the street with one kid on his back while trying to hold up the bike with three more sitting on it. It occurred to him about three blocks later, watching the teachers and the teen, who's name he learned was Landon - Poor kid - keeping the other eight corraled in a circle as they walked down the street, that this probably wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had. With one hand holding the bike and the other holding the kid, how was he supposed to protect them if they were attacked?
The answer came three blocks later, when another group of Krybots came around a corner - this time lead by a Bluehead. He spun instinctively to drop the kickstand on the bike, ignoring the shrieks of the children as the bike tilted slightly, but remained upright. Continuing the spin, he drew the Quantum Defender and swung the kid on his back into one arm at the same time, shoving the kid into one of the teachers. He charged forward, firing rapidly to bring the Kybot's focus to him. He rolled under the return fire, silently hoping the adults and Landon were smart enough to get the kids out of sight and bringing the Defender up to fire again. Three of them stumbled back, but the Bluehead just looked annoyed.
He muttered darkly under his breath, cursing whoever had studied the designs of Ransik's Cyclobots. The similarities hadn't escaped his notice; they were subtle, but still there. Which meant that this was going to be a lot harder than it should have been. Cyclobots had an annoying but convenient tendency to move in sync; Krybots didn't.
He switched the Defender to sword mode, charging forward again. He ducked under the Bluehead's first swing, reaching back to grab and pin it's sword arm as he kicked out at one of the ones trying to rush up behind him. He used the momentum as his foot came down to swing the Bluehead around and throw it into the trio that tried to attack him all at once, knocking them all to the ground. He slashed at the ones still standing, cutting more than one chest open and removing a few body parts. He spared the thought to hope the teachers were smart enough to keep the kids from watching: robots or not, this probably wasn't something they shouldn't see.
The moment of distraction cost him. One of the Krybots from the fallen pile managed to grab his ankle and wrench his feet out from under him. He landed hard on his back, helmet bouncing off the ground as his vision whited-out briefly. He shook off the feeling, rolling swiftly out of the way and kicking himself free of its grip. He came up on one elbow, snapping the Defender back to blaster mode and aiming at the direct center of their chests. They fell back, sparking, and he surged to his feet, looking around sharply. Nothing twitched.
He waited, pausing to kick one that didn't look completely destroyed just to be sure. It rolled limply, and he sighed, holstering the Defender again. "All clear," he said loudly.
It took a good few minutes for them to stumble out of hiding, all looking even more frightened than they had to begin with. The thumb-sucker kid shuffled up to him, looking up with those huge blue eyes again. He made an odd sound that sounded vaguely like 'okay'.
It was another minute before he realized that kid was asking *him* if *he* was okay. "Yeah," he said belatedly, absently ruffling the kid's hair. "I'm okay. We'd better get moving."
The kid smiled tentatively behind his thumb, and offered a hand.
The trip to the shelter took a good half hour. They were attacked six more times, and each time left the kids more scared than the last. No one had been hurt, but the teachers were getting anxious, the kids were tired and slowing down, and Landon was starting to look like that arm might be more serious than he'd been letting on. He eventually learned the thumb-sucker's name was Oscar - and seriously, who was *naming* these poor kids - and that the teachers were Emma and Quincy. He'd probably learned the rest of the kids' names, but by the time they finally reached the shelter, he'd forgotten most of them.
It took another five minutes to convince Oscar to let go of his arm so he could go back out to the streets.
"There are other people out there who need me," he told the boy finally, crouching down to look him in the eyes. "There's someone else I still need to find, so I can make sure he's okay. And I still gotta take care of the bad guys. I can't stay here." He brushed the kid's cheek before moving to squeeze his shoulder lightly. "You'll be okay," he promised.
Oscar stared at him before abruptly launching himself forward to glomp the Quantum Ranger's neck. "Be careful," he whispered.
It was the first time the thumb had left his mouth since he'd met the kid.
****
He'd barely made it down the street when the shockwave sent him and the patrol bike sprawling.
"This planet is mine!" a husky voice declared over a loudspeaker. "And none of you, shall be able to stop me!"
The Quantum Ranger was too busy picking himself up off the ground to care. He shook his head slowly, putting one hand to his helmet with a quiet groan as his ears continued to ring. "Not a good sign," he muttered to himself as his right side throbbed in agreement.
He looked up to see the hulking Zord towering over the city. "Run little people, run!" the voice laughed as the staff it was carrying started powering up. "No more Power Rangers to save you now! You will all bow down, to my magnificence!"
For about thirty seconds, time stopped. His breath came short and fast, his eyes wide in horror. He could see the blaster fire coming from the Zord, the cars and tiny objects that looked like bodies flying through the air. But none of that mattered. Because if there were no more Power Rangers, then ...
Sky, he thought weakly, struggling to reign in his emotions. His eyes burned as they closed, and there was a choked sound between a wheeze and a sob coming from somewhere. No. Not my kid. Not my Sky.
Reality reasserted itself a few minutes later with another shockwave as the Zord moved. In the distance he could see the Delta Command Megazord moving to stand against the other Zord. The ground shuddered as they moved, and he wondered distantly if they'd always made that much noise, or if there was something different about the way they moved today that hadn't happened before.
He put a hand to his head, shaking it carefully again. He was tired, he realized. He'd spent too long in morph. That was why it was getting harder to think clearly.
The Power Rangers weren't gone. Not if the Delta Command Megazord was still moving. That meant at least Kat Ranger was still fighting. And if she was fighting, what the heck was he doing sitting here on his butt staring at the Zords?
He surged to his feet, shaking his head again as the Power responded, giving him the energy boost he desperately needed. Okay, mental assessment. Tired, sore, but still functioning. A little slow mentally, which meant he'd probably been knocked around in the head one too many times, but nothing he couldn't handle.
He closed his eyes, thinking. Kat Ranger was handling the Zord. The Newtech Rangers and the Squads would handle the fight around the base. What did that leave?
Wes.
The Krybots.
He hesitated. His first instinct was to find Wes, but the intense need to get to him was gone now. He was still edgy, but not in the way that meant he needed to get to Wes right now.
Which left the Krybots.
It was a running joke among the staff that Grumm had a factory somewhere that produced Krybots twenty-four seven. They'd always laughed about it, because seriously. The amount of resources alone that would take? Besides, how could they *possibly* have missed something like that?
Cloaking. Hiding the tech in an area we wouldn't bother to look for it. Keeping the production underground. Paying off anyone who ran across it to keep quiet, his mind supplied.
But where would they be able to find all that?
He paused, fists clenching as it finally came to him.
The Harbor District.
Growling softly, he righted Sky's bike, swinging a leg over. He raised the Quantum Morpher to his face. "Morpher, map. Newtech City Harbor District." he commanded. His eyes ran over the projection, narrowing as he silently narrowed down which buildings were inhabited, and which ones wouldn't be big enough. He was left with three choices.
He shook his head, grabbing the bike with both hands as he turned it on. "Start with option one," he grumbled to himself.
The sound of blaster fire made him look up at the Zords, just in time to see the S.W.A.T. Flyer and Delta Squad Megazords joining Delta Command in attacking the other Zord. He smirked, shifting the bike into gear. "That's my boy," he murmured.
****
The Krybot factory turned out to be the second building he'd suspected; not the one closest to the water, but not the furthest, either. In fact, it was disturbingly close to where Jack had rescued Bridge from Bork's cell. The Rangers had been barely a block away from it on more than one occasion and no one had ever noticed.
Granted, no one else had ever been attacked when they tried to approach the building, either.
He swerved, trying to steer with one hand to avoid the lasers coming at him and shoot back at the same time. He managed to take out the front line before one of the Orangeheads was smart enough to shoot his front tire. He saw it coming, tried to dodge, but there was no time. The sound of the tire bursting was loud even through his helmet, and he found himself flipping over the handlebars as the bike went flying in the opposite direction.
He skidded along the pavement, and only sheer willpower kept him from demorphing when he slammed into a steel pillar. He cried out in pain without meaning to, rolling over onto his stomach on sheer instinct alone. The sound of more blaster fire jerked him back to the situation, and his head came up in alarm just in time to roll out of the way of another round. Pain flared down his right side.
He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to focus. He cursed as he realized the Quantum Defender was a good ten feet from where he lay. Without the Defender he was as good as toast.
But if he didn't move, he was toast anyway.
He closed his eyes, drawing another breath, and twisted his body around awkwardly in a move that brought him to his feet and made him regret it in the same instant. The moment he was upright he raised his fists, eyes narrowing as he studied the Krybots surrounding him. Nine Krybots. Four between him and the Quantum Defender.
Piece of cake.
He kicked the one to his immediate right, sending it flying backwards into another behind it. The pair in front of him fell to several vicious punches, and he elbowed the one trying to sneak up on him in the gut, grabbing its head when it doubled over and slamming it against his knee before throwing it at another group. A roundhouse brought down the third, leaving one more between him and the Quantum Defender. He didn't even bother to attack the last, somersaulting right past it and grabbing the Defender on the way. He rolled back to his feet, bringing the Defender to bear and smirking wildly. "Oh, yeah. Time to party."
One of the best things about the Quantum Defender was its versatility. It enabled him to blast dozens of Krybots without ever needing to reload, shifted to sword mode with the push of a button when any of them got too close, and shifted back to blaster the moment he had breathing room again.
But it wasn't enough.
The Krybots never seemed to end. No matter how many he blasted, sliced, or otherwise incapacitated, there were always more behind them. And unlike Krybots, *he* could be worn down.
He cursed under his breath as he dodged a slice that came too close for comfort. There was nothing for it. He didn't have a choice.
"Mega Battle!" he shouted into his morpher. "Activate!"
The Mega Battle Armor was both a curse and a blessing. It was powerful, there was no doubting that. The blasters and the Mega Battle Sword alone made it worth the time and energy it took to use it. And the initial power boost it gave him was always a big help.
The downside was trying to *move* in the stupid thing.
Whatever idiot thought rollerblades in the middle a battle was a *good* idea needs to be shot, he thought darkly as he skidded past the Krybot he was aiming for. He compensated by spinning around sharply, killing his momentum long enough for him to get off three shots.
It wasn't the first time he'd thought it, and it wouldn't be the last.
I am getting *way* too old for this, he groused, jumping into the air and spinning again to avoid more blaster fire. He felt his ankle give way as he landed, dropping him to one knee. He continued firing, even as he swore internally. He'd been morphed for too long; he could feel it.
The day Eric had first taken the Quantum Control Box, and by extension the Quantum Morpher, the morpher had connected him to the Power and the infinite source of knowledge that it was. It was what all morphers did, and his had been no exception. Which was one of the reasons why he'd always resented the Rangers insinuating he didn't know what he was doing when he took it. He knew *exactly* what he was doing.
The Quantum Morpher was faulty. Something in its design hadn't come out the way it was meant to, the way the Time Force Morphers did. He hadn't known everything then, about Ben and Alex and who or what they were, but he knew the moment he stuck his hand in that box, it was entirely likely accepting the Morpher would be one of the last things he ever did.
He just hadn't cared.
Back then, his parents' divorce had just been finalized. He'd left college for Charlie's funeral and been dropped completely, which cost him his scholarships. There was no way he could afford to go back without them. His dad was hiding out at the cabin, his mom couldn't even look him in the face anymore. And his little brother, the one person he'd sworn to protect, to take care of no matter what, was gone. He had nothing left worth living for.
And what could be worse than giving his life to protect the city?
He grunted as his back hit the wall behind him, silently cursing again. Another downside of this stupid armor: how was he supposed to fire on anything with wheels on his feet? He braced himself, leaning into the wall and firing in opposite directions as he leaned forward a little, trying to keep his balance. Normally it wasn't this hard to use, but he was tired. He was kind of impressed he'd lasted this long without a problem.
Neon green text began to flash at the bottom of his line of vision. Energy Levels Fluctuating. Loss of Power Imminent.
He swore violently, swinging his arm around to blast at a Bluehead trying to sneak up on him. He needed a plan, and he needed it an hour ago. If he didn't come up with something fast, he'd be standing in the middle of a swarm of Krybots with only a S.P.D. standard-issue blaster.
"Mega Battle! Aerial Mode!"
It was hard to focus, hovering just high enough above the Krybots to keep out of sword range and still manage not to hit the ceiling. There was still plenty of blaster fire to dodge too, and his morpher was getting more insistent about its energy levels. He yelled before he could stop himself as one of them clipped his right arm, gritting his teeth as he struggled to keep holding on to the blaster. If he dropped it now, there was no way he'd be able to form the Mega Battle Sword.
There. It was almost impossible to imagine, but there was a large box-like machine along one wall, complete with Krybots standing along a conveyor belt as they added more parts. Fully formed Krybots came out the end, where a pair of waiting Blueheads did something to them with what looked like a divining rod. There was a sharp cracking sound, and the Krybot it touched sat upright, swinging its legs around to stand.
He swooped past it, firing on every piece of machinery and Krybot in his path. The Krybots when crazy, scrambling for weapons and trying to dodge his attack at the same instant, as if it had never occurred to them before that they might be attacked at their own factory. Somewhere he could hear an Orangehead shouting "Attack! Attack!" over and over.
He brought his blasters together, hovering lower. "Mega Battle Sword!"
"Time to end this," he murmured, powering up the sword. "Hyah!"
He swung three times, feeling the Power surge through him. He pushed for as much as he could, drawing on whatever reserves were left. He couldn't afford not to end this now.
The last thing he remembered was the sound of Krybots and something exploding.
****
~"We have really got to work on our timing."~
He groaned softly as the words echoed through his mind. Man, his head hurt. He was tempted to ask someone for ice, but that meant moving. And he was fairly positive if he moved right now he'd puke.
Okay. Mental assessment.
Head hurts. A lot. A tentative move to touch it found blood and made him incredibly dizzy, which meant he probably had a concussion. His arm also felt like he'd just set it on fire the moment he moved it, so there was something wrong there, too.
His left arm moved without a problem, but his hand ached and it was hard to move his fingers. Careful movement of his legs discovered more pain, this time in one ankle and down the outside of his entire right leg.
He really did not want to open his eyes.
The world spun the moment he did, and he lurched to his left, propping himself up on his elbow as he heaved. Closing his eyes seemed to help with the dizziness but not the smell, and he rolled over onto his back again, taking several deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to calm his stomach. Pain flared in his chest.
Great. And now bruised ribs at the very least. Just what he needed.
Okay. A plan. He needed a plan. Laying on his back next to a pile of puke wasn't going to get him anywhere.
He needed to get back to S.P.D., and as much as he hated to admit it, to Aisha and Ashley. The TF Eagle would be the fastest way there, but there was no way he was going to chance trying to fly through downtown with his head swimming the way it was. Which meant his best bet would be -
His eyes shot open. "Oh, sh - "
He lurched up to a sitting position, groaning as his entire body protested the movement. A sharp look around made his head spin and told him that he was sitting in a pile of rubble. Sky's bike was nowhere in sight.
He buried his face in his hands with a moan. "I am *never* going to hear the end of this."
For several minutes he stayed where he was, letting his body complain and waiting for the Power to respond well enough to let him move. It came slowly, which told him he'd *definitely* been morphed for too long. Forget about Sky and his bike; *Justin and Billy* were never going to let him hear the end of this.
~Billy Cranston stared at him with an intensity he'd never seen in the other man. "Are you mentally deficient?" he asked slowly, his voice low and threatening. "You confess to accepting a morpher that you not only knew nothing about, but were *aware* that it was in dire need of repair. Yet you continued to use this morpher without considering the possible reprecussions to both yourself and the object in question? Even after making social connections to other Rangers and their teams, as well as various tech support, you never once thought to mention this problem, despite what it may do to your body, let alone what the possible outcome would do to those comrades who consider you to be a close and welcome companion? And you only *now* thought to mention this because it's 'making a funny noise'?!"
He turned to stare at Justin blankly.
"Your morpher has problems and you should have asked someone about it," the younger man informed him. "You're an idiot." He paused, considered, and abruptly smacked Eric upside the head. "And that's for not telling anyone that you knew it had a problem sooner. Moron."~
He rubbed his temple gently, sighing. It wasn't that the Quantum Morpher was broken, exactly. The problem was that if he stayed morphed for more than four hours - which was already pushing it - the system started to go haywire and eventually left him force-demorphed. Something about the way it had been built was wrong according to Justin, who'd eventually taken the time to explain it in calmer, less migraine-inducing words. It wasn't that he didn't understand what Billy was saying; he just found it irritating to have to translate him long enough to hold a conversation.
Well, sitting here wasn't going to get him anywhere. The bike was probably somewhere under all the rubble from what was left of the warehouse, and even if he *could* dig it out, there was still a blown tire. He couldn't take the Eagle. Which meant he was going to have to walk back to S.P.D.
He groaned again. "I hate my life."
****
The problem with walking, Eric decided, was that it left you with too much time to think.
Well, that and it hurt like - well, it hurt a lot, to put it mildly. Between the sprained ankle, the road rash from crashing the bike, the blaster burn on his arm, the ribs, the concussion, and general exhaustion? He was about ready to just crash somewhere and sleep for a week.
Unfortunately, he knew better than to sleep with a concussion; especially when he'd already blacked out once. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun was getting low on the horizon, which wasn't a good sign. On the upside, he hadn't run into any more Krybots. The downside was that Newtech City was a mess, which meant his squad would probably be stuck on cleanup duty for the next week at the very least.
Assuming his squad was still alive, of course.
He huffed quietly at himself. F Squad was good. He knew they were, because he'd trained them himself. They'd be fine. They weren't some green rookies who could barely keep up in a fight. They'd be fine. Probably make fun of him for weeks for the way he had to limp back to base.
Just like B Squad. They'd probably laugh themselves sick at the shape he'd gotten himself into. The great Sergeant Myers, bloody and shuffling along at a snails' pace? C Squad would start spreading it down through all the lower Ranks. Even the illustrious A Squad would get in on it. It'd be all over S.P.D. by tomorrow morning.
He reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Man, he was tired.
Justin and Billy would be all over him for stressing his morpher when he knew better. Probably Cam, too. Maybe even Hayley. She'd been hanging around Billy a lot these days. Kat and Nerina would probably be in on it, but Nerina wasn't pushy enough to really get involved, and Kat would be too busy dealing with B Squad.
*Vanessa* on the other hand. Now she'd have him doing one of Cruger's stupid senseless punishments. Cleaning out the mud swamp with a spoon or something. She'd be into that kind of thing.
Carter was probably right back into the Infirmary, with Syd fussing at him and Ryan laughing behind his back while Aisha read him the riot act for doing something stupid. Zack was probably reorganizing security for the base and grumbling about how much of a pain it was going to be to keep track of things until they got the repairs done. Taylor and Dustin would complain about Tommy and the others trashing the Zord Bay and all the work it was going to take to fix it. Rocky and Shane were probably complaining about their squads getting stuck on cleanup, while Jason and Adam were volunteering theirs. Andros was probably trying to keep track of A Squad's rehabilitation and doing six jobs at once until someone else - probably Ashley or Zhane - forced him to stop. Karone would be doing the exact same thing as her brother, but without getting caught. Cruger and Tommy were trying to organize everyone and keep track of everything, not bothering to notice Kimberly and Karone were already taking care of it. Not to say that Tommy or Cruger weren't capable leaders; the girls were just better at organizing.
Must be something about being pink, he decided, wincing as his ankle twinged again. Jen was like that, too.
Not that he'd ever really known the Pink Time Force Ranger all that well. Or any of them, really. He'd only ever bothered getting close to Wes. They'd been Wes' friends, not his. And he was fine with that.
They'd always butted heads, anyway. Jen, Lucas, and Katie all thought he was arrogant. Jen seemed to think he was an idiot, too. Always trying to tell him how he 'didn't understand' something. How he 'didn't know' what was really at stake.
The sudden flare of pain in his left hand told him he was clenching his fist, and he looked down at it in surprise. Darn. Popped knuckles. That was gonna be a blast to fix.
Trip hadn't been too bad, he supposed. He was kind of annoying, but at least he listened more than the others. Made the effort.
He smiled wryly to himself. And he'd know all about not listening, wouldn't he?
~"I promise to listen. I promise to always be there, however I can, whenever you need me. No more fighting alone. We're partners, now and forever."
The smile he got in return was warm, blue eyes sparkling with emotion. If they didn't hurry this thing up, Wes was probably going to start crying. Not that he'd ever admit to it later.
"I promise to stop hiding," Wes said softly, swallowing hard. "I promise to always be honest with you, no matter what. No more secrets. Partners in everything, whatever it takes. Now and forever."
"You may now kiss your spouse."
But he was already too lost in blue eyes and soft lips to hear the minister's words.~
He took a slow breath, stopping for a moment to close his eyes as his ribs protested. Wes is fine, he told himself firmly. Stop worrying about him. You know he's fine. He always is.
Because Wes always came back. When the odds were against him, his friends from the future rescued him, he survived the war, his morpher kept him alive, his sight was restored. He *always* came back. Because Wes was just that kind of guy.
His ribs were *really* starting to ache now, and he found himself glancing around for a place to sit down. There was a large chunk of cement sitting on what used to be someone's car; he figured that'd do.
What was it R.J. always said? "People worry when they have something worth caring about. If it wasn't worth caring, it wasn't worth worrying."
He smiled faintly. Huh. Who knew R.J. had something worth remembering to say?
I wonder if I can get him to make me one of his pizzas, he thought idly. Steak, sausage, bacon, mushrooms, onions, and bell peppers. Red sauce, because Wes is a freak and white sauce does not belong on pizza. Ask R.J. for some of that bruise cream he keeps stashed in their room while it's cooking. Watch Sky play with Sheep and Jen while Vanessa lectures him about keeping the animal hair out of her lab. Laying in Wes' lap on the couch, listening to him talk about something I could really care less about ...
The sharp pain in his chest was the only thing that alerted him to the fact that he was starting to fall asleep.
He blinked, shaking his head slightly, and took another slow breath. Right. Awake. Awake is good.
Where is R.J., anyway? he wondered distantly, slowly pushing himself to his feet with a grimace. He should have been here by now. Ocean Bluff isn't *that* far from Newtech City.
Eh. The hippy'd probably already beaten him back to base. He smiled again at the thought, giving another slow head shake. Probably already planning some sort of weird celebratory party for Grumm's defeat. R.J. was good with parties. He was good with anything that involved cheering people up or taking care of others, really.
R.J. a weird guy, but a decent one. He'd make a great guardian for the new baby. And Vanessa would keep him in line when he started getting weird.
He closed his eyes as his smile widened. He was having a baby. He and Wes were going to be parents again. The *right* way this time: together. Like it always should have been.
He limped along slowly for three more blocks, wondering what the baby would look like. Alex looked like Wes with his coloring. Ben looked more like him with Wes' coloring. Sky looked like his mother, but he had a few hints of Wes in there. So the baby would probably look more like Wes. He couldn't really say he was against that.
Probably a boy. The O'Neill side had a tendency for boys. The Collins were half and half. He'd like a girl, just because, but another boy would be good. Someone for Sky to look out for, keep out of trouble.
Keep them *both* out of trouble.
Because the kid *would* be trouble. It was practically hereditary; from both sides - not that he'd admit it. Which meant they'd have their hands full. But he didn't really mind that, either.
Kid was gonna need a good name, he mused. Something simple. Last name was gonna be a pain, though. And he didn't care if it was easier: there was *no way* Wes would ever get him to agree to hyphenate their names. That was just stupid.
They'd probably just use a coin. It'd be worth it to see that look on Alan's face again. See if they could get Sky to make that same look.
He chuckled softly at the memory, wincing as his ribs throbbed. Okay, laughing ... not such a good idea.
He glanced up when the pain finally died, sighing in relief as he realized where he was. Delta Drive. S.P.D. was just around the corner. He was almost home.
Home. There was a term he thought he'd never use.
Growing up, home was his baby brother. Charlie was the only permanent thing in his life, bouncing between military housings while Mom was always off on some new project and seeing Dad was even rarer. College housing had been just as temporary. Then they'd lost Charlie, his parents had separated, and he was struggling just to figure out how to find a steady job, let alone a residence. He'd lived with Wes for awhile, but even then it hard been hard to call it 'home'.
And now ...
Now he had Wes back in his life. He had his kids, whether they were lurking around S.P.D. or a thousand years in the future. He had his friends, his squad, his coworkers. He had Vanessa and R.J.
He had a family.
It hit him hard, just as he finally made it into the Hanger. There were people everywhere, gathered in crowds mostly by squad or department. His eyes automatically tracked all seven squads, all battered but more or less in one piece. All of the Rangers they'd had when he headed out for the main entrance were still there. Even the members of the Rescue Team from S.P.D. Japan were in the crowd. And - was that *Cruger* hugging another Syrian? Wasn't Cruger supposed to be the last of his kind?
But the two most important things he'd been trying to find all day were standing with their Squads, looking on at the people being reunited. There was even Vanessa was standing by Wes, holding her helmet and scowling as always. And that was what mattered.
He was home. *They* were home.
He sighed to himself in relief, even though he still had no idea what was going on. "Okay, *what* did I miss?"
phantom_blue: LOTS!
Akume: So far I'm thinking concussion and bruised and/or cracked ribs. Probably a sprained ankle.
Akume: Any requests?
phantomblue: Something little Wes can kiss better?
Challon86: And a couple random gashes somewheres
phantom_blue: BRB
Challon86: 'kays
Akume: -Giggles- 'kay.
Akume: Okay: Concussion
Bruised/Cracked Ribs
Sprained Ankle
Knuckles on Left Hand Popped Out of Joint
Akume: More? Less?
Akume: Ooh, a blaster burn to the shoulder.
Challon86: Ooh I like that
Akume: -Grins-
Akume: I swear I love Eric. Really, I do.
Akume: I find it entirely too appropriate that I'm writing EricTorture while drinking green tea from a mug that says 'Shit Happens'.
Author/: Tsukino Akume
Fandom/: Power Rangers Time Force moving into S.P.D., multiple Rangers from each season
Characters/: Wes (Time Force), multiple Rangers from other teams (Literally too many to list)
Pairings/: Wes/Eric, R.J./O.C., Rocky/Adam, Zack/Aisha, T.J./O.C., Justin/Rose, Carter/Ryan, Shane/Dustin, Hunter/Cam, Andros/Ashley, Zhane/Karone, Carlos/Ronny, Jason/Taylor, Tommy/Kimberly, Tyzonn/Mack, Cassie/OC, Z/Syd, Jack/Charlie, Sky/Bridge, and probably some others I'm forgetting.
prompt/: #95: Found
Rating/: T (For non - graphic mentions of people having babies and being violent with one another)
Disclaimer/: I don't own the Power Rangers, but if Disney's hiring any new writers I volunteer.
Summary/: When Wes' life starts to fall apart, an accident gives him a chance at a fresh start in New Tech City, with Space Patrol Delta. But even a new life has its ups and downs - and weird friends. Meanwhile, Eric tries to move on.
Warnings/: A mentally handicapped person living in a medical facility, angst, male and female slash, non-cemented couples (In otherwords, pairings that will be separated), children created by scientific means, character death
Author's Notes/: I hated the original version of this chapter because it didn't seem to fit in with the story very well. So I rewrote it. This version was *much* more fun. -Evil grin-
For Challon86 and phantom_blue, who put up with all my whining, babbling, and complaining as I tried to write this chapter and encouraged me along the way. (And extra love to phantom_blue for beta work.) You're both awesome. ♥
Wes had an ability to know when things were going to happen. Whether it was something that came from his morpher, the Battle Fire, or just Wes being ... Wes, was hard to say. All that anyone knew for sure was that when something bad was coming, Wes knew about it. Occasionally he could tell when something good was on the way, but he was better at judging bad. Zhane liked to refer to him as 'The Prophet of Doom'.
Eric didn't have any special psychic powers. What he *did* have was excellent observational skills. While he was lousy at meeting new people, he was great at reading them. And who needed social skills when the only people he cared about having in his life were already in it?
He knew his friends. He knew Vanessa would always do the opposite of what she was told. Taylor would only follow orders if she trusted the person giving them, or when she didn't have a 'better' idea. Justin *always* had a better idea, but you never wanted to ask him to explain it. Jason wasn't as arrogant as he liked to pretend, but Hunter was. Tommy, surprisingly, never knew as much about what was going on as he seemed to, but whatever he didn't know, Kimberly did. Don't mess with Kimberly. Never hide an injury from Aisha or Ashley - it's not worth it. Karone has a nasty streak hiding behind all that innocence, and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. Zhane enjoys being obnoxious, but he's one of the first people you on your side in a fight. Andros is one of the most stubbornly loyal people he has ever known, second only to Carter.
He will never, ever, understand R.J.
Yet there were two people he knew to a point that bordered on mind-reading at times: Wes, and Sky. Sky, because after four years of being the only father figure the kid had, they'd become closer than Eric could ever have imagined himself with a kid. And Wes, because after a year and a half of school, two years as Rangers and slowly becoming friends, seven years as a couple, and now as more than that, there was no way he *couldn't* know him.
Which is why, when he saw Red Time Force fight his way to Blue Turbo and his car, he knew something bad was going to come of it. Because Wes was a trouble magnet, and if anything was going to wrong in this fight, Wes would be in the center of it.
So the moment he heard Turbo shouting "Time!" without hearing Wes answer back, he absolutely did not panic. He swore as much as he was able, knocking a Krybot flying into the one behind it with more force than may have been strictly necessary, but it was understandable. Wes was about to do something stupid again, and he was going to have to save him. Again.
Instead of panicking, he very calmly grabbed Sky's patrol bike out of the barricade they'd set up and threw a leg over while starting it up. "I'm going after Wes!" he announced, not particularly caring if anyone heard him or not.
A hand grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy?!" Yellow Lightspeed snarled at him. "You can't just take off! We're in the middle of a fight here!"
"You can handle it without me," he said shortly, shifting into gear and lifting his foot off the ground. "Wes needs help." He brushed her arm off and gunned the bike.
"You *prick*! Get back here!"
Sky was right, he thought absently as he pulled the Quantum Defender and shot at several Kybots as he passed. This thing definitely needs a tune-up.
****
The Krybots were *everywhere*. It seemed like no matter how many he shot down, there was always more to take their place. The blasted things just didn't *end*.
Even worse, they weren't the only things on the street.
"Let her go!" he snarled, snapping the Quantum Defender into sword mode with one hand. He slashed the Krybot across the chest, elbowing it sharply in the next movement to send it crashing to the ground. The woman it had been holding onto stumbled, but the other one still had a firm grip on her arm. At least it had, until he removed the arm from its body in a single slice.
The woman shrieked, and he shifted the Defender back to blaster mode, shoving it back into its holster. He pried the fingers of the arm free, tossing it aside. "Are you all right, ma'am?" he pressed, trying to force himself to sound gentle.
"I - I - "
He suppressed a sigh. He didn't have time for this. "Go to the shelter," he cut her off, squeezing her shoulder lightly. "There's one on Fifth Street. You'll be safe there." She stared at him blankly, quivering, and he gave her a light push in the right direction. "Go!"
"I ... thank you!" she blurted, still shaking. "Thank you so much!"
He nodded swiftly, gesturing again. "Go!" he insisted, watching briefly as she took off running.
He shook his head once she was gone, grabbing the Defender again and taking a moment to survey the street. No more civilians that he could see. Unfortunately no sign of Wes either, and that was definitely not good. "Probably neck-deep in trouble," he muttered to himself irritably, pausing to shoot at another group of Krybots as they came around the corner of the building across from him.
Wes, where *are* you?
He'd thought he was following in the only direction Wes could have gone, but now he wasn't so sure. He should have caught up with him by now. At this point he was wishing he'd thought to summon the TF Eagle instead, but that would mean abandoning Sky's patrol bike in the middle of downtown, and he'd never hear the end of it even if he dared to try. Besides, the Eagle only had seating for one; at least with Sky's bike he'd be able to take Wes back without having to strap him to something so he wouldn't fall.
He's fine, he told himself firmly, shaking his head and shooting at another group of Krybots as he continued down the street. He's probably just lost somewhere. We'll meet up in a couple blocks, and he'll be absolutely fine. Heck, knowing our luck, he'll probably be the one bailing *me* out of trouble again.
He sighed, steering the bike straight into the rest of the Krybots, firing at them as they scrambled to move out of his way. He ducked under a return blast absently, shaking his head again with another internal sigh. Who am I kidding? This is *Wes*. Of *course* he's in trouble.
The further away from S.P.D. he drove, the worse the destruction became. He rescued more people than he could keep track of, mostly small groups who were easy to free and send off towards the nearest safe place. The worst was the group from school: twelve kids ranging from kindergarten through fifth grade, with two teachers and someone's older brother from the high school. The Krybots hadn't been too difficult, but the kids were scared and crying, the teachers didn't want him to leave them alone, and the teenager was sporting a broken arm.
"Look," he said loudly, cutting into the argument as he struggled to keep his temper. "I can take you to a shelter. But I can't stay with you. There's too many other people out here that need my help. That's the best I can do."
The grateful looks they gave him made him feel guilty for hesitating in the first place.
"Okay, come on." He grabbed a couple of the smaller kids, setting them one after another on the bike. He managed to squeeze one more on it, looking them all over carefully. They were exhausted, but no one was hurt too badly. "Okay. I need all of you to hang on tight to each other, okay?"
They nodded eagerly, and the girl in the middle eeped as the boy behind her grabbed on a little too tightly.
"I won't let you fall," he assured them. "Just sit tight, okay?"
They nodded again, and the tiny girl in the front dared to give him a shy smile. He smiled back at her before he remembered she wouldn't see it behind his helmet.
He shook his head ruefully, glancing over the group before finally settling on the smallest boy. He looked like he was barely out of preschool, his blue eyes wide and scared. His right thumb was firmly stuck in his mouth.
He shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. The kid looked too much like Sky at that age. Keeping a firm grip on the bike, he leaned down to the kid. "Hey. You want a piggyback ride?" he offered gently.
The boy hesitated.
"It's better than walking," he pressed.
There was a pause, and at last the boy nodded feverently.
He smiled briefly, holding out an arm and waiting for the kid to come closer. "I won't drop you," he promised as the boy hesitated again.
A tiny hand closed around his, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He was rewarded with a very small, tentative smile. The thumb remained where it was.
It wasn't easy, keeping an eye out for Krybots and walking down the street with one kid on his back while trying to hold up the bike with three more sitting on it. It occurred to him about three blocks later, watching the teachers and the teen, who's name he learned was Landon - Poor kid - keeping the other eight corraled in a circle as they walked down the street, that this probably wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had. With one hand holding the bike and the other holding the kid, how was he supposed to protect them if they were attacked?
The answer came three blocks later, when another group of Krybots came around a corner - this time lead by a Bluehead. He spun instinctively to drop the kickstand on the bike, ignoring the shrieks of the children as the bike tilted slightly, but remained upright. Continuing the spin, he drew the Quantum Defender and swung the kid on his back into one arm at the same time, shoving the kid into one of the teachers. He charged forward, firing rapidly to bring the Kybot's focus to him. He rolled under the return fire, silently hoping the adults and Landon were smart enough to get the kids out of sight and bringing the Defender up to fire again. Three of them stumbled back, but the Bluehead just looked annoyed.
He muttered darkly under his breath, cursing whoever had studied the designs of Ransik's Cyclobots. The similarities hadn't escaped his notice; they were subtle, but still there. Which meant that this was going to be a lot harder than it should have been. Cyclobots had an annoying but convenient tendency to move in sync; Krybots didn't.
He switched the Defender to sword mode, charging forward again. He ducked under the Bluehead's first swing, reaching back to grab and pin it's sword arm as he kicked out at one of the ones trying to rush up behind him. He used the momentum as his foot came down to swing the Bluehead around and throw it into the trio that tried to attack him all at once, knocking them all to the ground. He slashed at the ones still standing, cutting more than one chest open and removing a few body parts. He spared the thought to hope the teachers were smart enough to keep the kids from watching: robots or not, this probably wasn't something they shouldn't see.
The moment of distraction cost him. One of the Krybots from the fallen pile managed to grab his ankle and wrench his feet out from under him. He landed hard on his back, helmet bouncing off the ground as his vision whited-out briefly. He shook off the feeling, rolling swiftly out of the way and kicking himself free of its grip. He came up on one elbow, snapping the Defender back to blaster mode and aiming at the direct center of their chests. They fell back, sparking, and he surged to his feet, looking around sharply. Nothing twitched.
He waited, pausing to kick one that didn't look completely destroyed just to be sure. It rolled limply, and he sighed, holstering the Defender again. "All clear," he said loudly.
It took a good few minutes for them to stumble out of hiding, all looking even more frightened than they had to begin with. The thumb-sucker kid shuffled up to him, looking up with those huge blue eyes again. He made an odd sound that sounded vaguely like 'okay'.
It was another minute before he realized that kid was asking *him* if *he* was okay. "Yeah," he said belatedly, absently ruffling the kid's hair. "I'm okay. We'd better get moving."
The kid smiled tentatively behind his thumb, and offered a hand.
The trip to the shelter took a good half hour. They were attacked six more times, and each time left the kids more scared than the last. No one had been hurt, but the teachers were getting anxious, the kids were tired and slowing down, and Landon was starting to look like that arm might be more serious than he'd been letting on. He eventually learned the thumb-sucker's name was Oscar - and seriously, who was *naming* these poor kids - and that the teachers were Emma and Quincy. He'd probably learned the rest of the kids' names, but by the time they finally reached the shelter, he'd forgotten most of them.
It took another five minutes to convince Oscar to let go of his arm so he could go back out to the streets.
"There are other people out there who need me," he told the boy finally, crouching down to look him in the eyes. "There's someone else I still need to find, so I can make sure he's okay. And I still gotta take care of the bad guys. I can't stay here." He brushed the kid's cheek before moving to squeeze his shoulder lightly. "You'll be okay," he promised.
Oscar stared at him before abruptly launching himself forward to glomp the Quantum Ranger's neck. "Be careful," he whispered.
It was the first time the thumb had left his mouth since he'd met the kid.
****
He'd barely made it down the street when the shockwave sent him and the patrol bike sprawling.
"This planet is mine!" a husky voice declared over a loudspeaker. "And none of you, shall be able to stop me!"
The Quantum Ranger was too busy picking himself up off the ground to care. He shook his head slowly, putting one hand to his helmet with a quiet groan as his ears continued to ring. "Not a good sign," he muttered to himself as his right side throbbed in agreement.
He looked up to see the hulking Zord towering over the city. "Run little people, run!" the voice laughed as the staff it was carrying started powering up. "No more Power Rangers to save you now! You will all bow down, to my magnificence!"
For about thirty seconds, time stopped. His breath came short and fast, his eyes wide in horror. He could see the blaster fire coming from the Zord, the cars and tiny objects that looked like bodies flying through the air. But none of that mattered. Because if there were no more Power Rangers, then ...
Sky, he thought weakly, struggling to reign in his emotions. His eyes burned as they closed, and there was a choked sound between a wheeze and a sob coming from somewhere. No. Not my kid. Not my Sky.
Reality reasserted itself a few minutes later with another shockwave as the Zord moved. In the distance he could see the Delta Command Megazord moving to stand against the other Zord. The ground shuddered as they moved, and he wondered distantly if they'd always made that much noise, or if there was something different about the way they moved today that hadn't happened before.
He put a hand to his head, shaking it carefully again. He was tired, he realized. He'd spent too long in morph. That was why it was getting harder to think clearly.
The Power Rangers weren't gone. Not if the Delta Command Megazord was still moving. That meant at least Kat Ranger was still fighting. And if she was fighting, what the heck was he doing sitting here on his butt staring at the Zords?
He surged to his feet, shaking his head again as the Power responded, giving him the energy boost he desperately needed. Okay, mental assessment. Tired, sore, but still functioning. A little slow mentally, which meant he'd probably been knocked around in the head one too many times, but nothing he couldn't handle.
He closed his eyes, thinking. Kat Ranger was handling the Zord. The Newtech Rangers and the Squads would handle the fight around the base. What did that leave?
Wes.
The Krybots.
He hesitated. His first instinct was to find Wes, but the intense need to get to him was gone now. He was still edgy, but not in the way that meant he needed to get to Wes right now.
Which left the Krybots.
It was a running joke among the staff that Grumm had a factory somewhere that produced Krybots twenty-four seven. They'd always laughed about it, because seriously. The amount of resources alone that would take? Besides, how could they *possibly* have missed something like that?
Cloaking. Hiding the tech in an area we wouldn't bother to look for it. Keeping the production underground. Paying off anyone who ran across it to keep quiet, his mind supplied.
But where would they be able to find all that?
He paused, fists clenching as it finally came to him.
The Harbor District.
Growling softly, he righted Sky's bike, swinging a leg over. He raised the Quantum Morpher to his face. "Morpher, map. Newtech City Harbor District." he commanded. His eyes ran over the projection, narrowing as he silently narrowed down which buildings were inhabited, and which ones wouldn't be big enough. He was left with three choices.
He shook his head, grabbing the bike with both hands as he turned it on. "Start with option one," he grumbled to himself.
The sound of blaster fire made him look up at the Zords, just in time to see the S.W.A.T. Flyer and Delta Squad Megazords joining Delta Command in attacking the other Zord. He smirked, shifting the bike into gear. "That's my boy," he murmured.
****
The Krybot factory turned out to be the second building he'd suspected; not the one closest to the water, but not the furthest, either. In fact, it was disturbingly close to where Jack had rescued Bridge from Bork's cell. The Rangers had been barely a block away from it on more than one occasion and no one had ever noticed.
Granted, no one else had ever been attacked when they tried to approach the building, either.
He swerved, trying to steer with one hand to avoid the lasers coming at him and shoot back at the same time. He managed to take out the front line before one of the Orangeheads was smart enough to shoot his front tire. He saw it coming, tried to dodge, but there was no time. The sound of the tire bursting was loud even through his helmet, and he found himself flipping over the handlebars as the bike went flying in the opposite direction.
He skidded along the pavement, and only sheer willpower kept him from demorphing when he slammed into a steel pillar. He cried out in pain without meaning to, rolling over onto his stomach on sheer instinct alone. The sound of more blaster fire jerked him back to the situation, and his head came up in alarm just in time to roll out of the way of another round. Pain flared down his right side.
He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to focus. He cursed as he realized the Quantum Defender was a good ten feet from where he lay. Without the Defender he was as good as toast.
But if he didn't move, he was toast anyway.
He closed his eyes, drawing another breath, and twisted his body around awkwardly in a move that brought him to his feet and made him regret it in the same instant. The moment he was upright he raised his fists, eyes narrowing as he studied the Krybots surrounding him. Nine Krybots. Four between him and the Quantum Defender.
Piece of cake.
He kicked the one to his immediate right, sending it flying backwards into another behind it. The pair in front of him fell to several vicious punches, and he elbowed the one trying to sneak up on him in the gut, grabbing its head when it doubled over and slamming it against his knee before throwing it at another group. A roundhouse brought down the third, leaving one more between him and the Quantum Defender. He didn't even bother to attack the last, somersaulting right past it and grabbing the Defender on the way. He rolled back to his feet, bringing the Defender to bear and smirking wildly. "Oh, yeah. Time to party."
One of the best things about the Quantum Defender was its versatility. It enabled him to blast dozens of Krybots without ever needing to reload, shifted to sword mode with the push of a button when any of them got too close, and shifted back to blaster the moment he had breathing room again.
But it wasn't enough.
The Krybots never seemed to end. No matter how many he blasted, sliced, or otherwise incapacitated, there were always more behind them. And unlike Krybots, *he* could be worn down.
He cursed under his breath as he dodged a slice that came too close for comfort. There was nothing for it. He didn't have a choice.
"Mega Battle!" he shouted into his morpher. "Activate!"
The Mega Battle Armor was both a curse and a blessing. It was powerful, there was no doubting that. The blasters and the Mega Battle Sword alone made it worth the time and energy it took to use it. And the initial power boost it gave him was always a big help.
The downside was trying to *move* in the stupid thing.
Whatever idiot thought rollerblades in the middle a battle was a *good* idea needs to be shot, he thought darkly as he skidded past the Krybot he was aiming for. He compensated by spinning around sharply, killing his momentum long enough for him to get off three shots.
It wasn't the first time he'd thought it, and it wouldn't be the last.
I am getting *way* too old for this, he groused, jumping into the air and spinning again to avoid more blaster fire. He felt his ankle give way as he landed, dropping him to one knee. He continued firing, even as he swore internally. He'd been morphed for too long; he could feel it.
The day Eric had first taken the Quantum Control Box, and by extension the Quantum Morpher, the morpher had connected him to the Power and the infinite source of knowledge that it was. It was what all morphers did, and his had been no exception. Which was one of the reasons why he'd always resented the Rangers insinuating he didn't know what he was doing when he took it. He knew *exactly* what he was doing.
The Quantum Morpher was faulty. Something in its design hadn't come out the way it was meant to, the way the Time Force Morphers did. He hadn't known everything then, about Ben and Alex and who or what they were, but he knew the moment he stuck his hand in that box, it was entirely likely accepting the Morpher would be one of the last things he ever did.
He just hadn't cared.
Back then, his parents' divorce had just been finalized. He'd left college for Charlie's funeral and been dropped completely, which cost him his scholarships. There was no way he could afford to go back without them. His dad was hiding out at the cabin, his mom couldn't even look him in the face anymore. And his little brother, the one person he'd sworn to protect, to take care of no matter what, was gone. He had nothing left worth living for.
And what could be worse than giving his life to protect the city?
He grunted as his back hit the wall behind him, silently cursing again. Another downside of this stupid armor: how was he supposed to fire on anything with wheels on his feet? He braced himself, leaning into the wall and firing in opposite directions as he leaned forward a little, trying to keep his balance. Normally it wasn't this hard to use, but he was tired. He was kind of impressed he'd lasted this long without a problem.
Neon green text began to flash at the bottom of his line of vision. Energy Levels Fluctuating. Loss of Power Imminent.
He swore violently, swinging his arm around to blast at a Bluehead trying to sneak up on him. He needed a plan, and he needed it an hour ago. If he didn't come up with something fast, he'd be standing in the middle of a swarm of Krybots with only a S.P.D. standard-issue blaster.
"Mega Battle! Aerial Mode!"
It was hard to focus, hovering just high enough above the Krybots to keep out of sword range and still manage not to hit the ceiling. There was still plenty of blaster fire to dodge too, and his morpher was getting more insistent about its energy levels. He yelled before he could stop himself as one of them clipped his right arm, gritting his teeth as he struggled to keep holding on to the blaster. If he dropped it now, there was no way he'd be able to form the Mega Battle Sword.
There. It was almost impossible to imagine, but there was a large box-like machine along one wall, complete with Krybots standing along a conveyor belt as they added more parts. Fully formed Krybots came out the end, where a pair of waiting Blueheads did something to them with what looked like a divining rod. There was a sharp cracking sound, and the Krybot it touched sat upright, swinging its legs around to stand.
He swooped past it, firing on every piece of machinery and Krybot in his path. The Krybots when crazy, scrambling for weapons and trying to dodge his attack at the same instant, as if it had never occurred to them before that they might be attacked at their own factory. Somewhere he could hear an Orangehead shouting "Attack! Attack!" over and over.
He brought his blasters together, hovering lower. "Mega Battle Sword!"
"Time to end this," he murmured, powering up the sword. "Hyah!"
He swung three times, feeling the Power surge through him. He pushed for as much as he could, drawing on whatever reserves were left. He couldn't afford not to end this now.
The last thing he remembered was the sound of Krybots and something exploding.
****
~"We have really got to work on our timing."~
He groaned softly as the words echoed through his mind. Man, his head hurt. He was tempted to ask someone for ice, but that meant moving. And he was fairly positive if he moved right now he'd puke.
Okay. Mental assessment.
Head hurts. A lot. A tentative move to touch it found blood and made him incredibly dizzy, which meant he probably had a concussion. His arm also felt like he'd just set it on fire the moment he moved it, so there was something wrong there, too.
His left arm moved without a problem, but his hand ached and it was hard to move his fingers. Careful movement of his legs discovered more pain, this time in one ankle and down the outside of his entire right leg.
He really did not want to open his eyes.
The world spun the moment he did, and he lurched to his left, propping himself up on his elbow as he heaved. Closing his eyes seemed to help with the dizziness but not the smell, and he rolled over onto his back again, taking several deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to calm his stomach. Pain flared in his chest.
Great. And now bruised ribs at the very least. Just what he needed.
Okay. A plan. He needed a plan. Laying on his back next to a pile of puke wasn't going to get him anywhere.
He needed to get back to S.P.D., and as much as he hated to admit it, to Aisha and Ashley. The TF Eagle would be the fastest way there, but there was no way he was going to chance trying to fly through downtown with his head swimming the way it was. Which meant his best bet would be -
His eyes shot open. "Oh, sh - "
He lurched up to a sitting position, groaning as his entire body protested the movement. A sharp look around made his head spin and told him that he was sitting in a pile of rubble. Sky's bike was nowhere in sight.
He buried his face in his hands with a moan. "I am *never* going to hear the end of this."
For several minutes he stayed where he was, letting his body complain and waiting for the Power to respond well enough to let him move. It came slowly, which told him he'd *definitely* been morphed for too long. Forget about Sky and his bike; *Justin and Billy* were never going to let him hear the end of this.
~Billy Cranston stared at him with an intensity he'd never seen in the other man. "Are you mentally deficient?" he asked slowly, his voice low and threatening. "You confess to accepting a morpher that you not only knew nothing about, but were *aware* that it was in dire need of repair. Yet you continued to use this morpher without considering the possible reprecussions to both yourself and the object in question? Even after making social connections to other Rangers and their teams, as well as various tech support, you never once thought to mention this problem, despite what it may do to your body, let alone what the possible outcome would do to those comrades who consider you to be a close and welcome companion? And you only *now* thought to mention this because it's 'making a funny noise'?!"
He turned to stare at Justin blankly.
"Your morpher has problems and you should have asked someone about it," the younger man informed him. "You're an idiot." He paused, considered, and abruptly smacked Eric upside the head. "And that's for not telling anyone that you knew it had a problem sooner. Moron."~
He rubbed his temple gently, sighing. It wasn't that the Quantum Morpher was broken, exactly. The problem was that if he stayed morphed for more than four hours - which was already pushing it - the system started to go haywire and eventually left him force-demorphed. Something about the way it had been built was wrong according to Justin, who'd eventually taken the time to explain it in calmer, less migraine-inducing words. It wasn't that he didn't understand what Billy was saying; he just found it irritating to have to translate him long enough to hold a conversation.
Well, sitting here wasn't going to get him anywhere. The bike was probably somewhere under all the rubble from what was left of the warehouse, and even if he *could* dig it out, there was still a blown tire. He couldn't take the Eagle. Which meant he was going to have to walk back to S.P.D.
He groaned again. "I hate my life."
****
The problem with walking, Eric decided, was that it left you with too much time to think.
Well, that and it hurt like - well, it hurt a lot, to put it mildly. Between the sprained ankle, the road rash from crashing the bike, the blaster burn on his arm, the ribs, the concussion, and general exhaustion? He was about ready to just crash somewhere and sleep for a week.
Unfortunately, he knew better than to sleep with a concussion; especially when he'd already blacked out once. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun was getting low on the horizon, which wasn't a good sign. On the upside, he hadn't run into any more Krybots. The downside was that Newtech City was a mess, which meant his squad would probably be stuck on cleanup duty for the next week at the very least.
Assuming his squad was still alive, of course.
He huffed quietly at himself. F Squad was good. He knew they were, because he'd trained them himself. They'd be fine. They weren't some green rookies who could barely keep up in a fight. They'd be fine. Probably make fun of him for weeks for the way he had to limp back to base.
Just like B Squad. They'd probably laugh themselves sick at the shape he'd gotten himself into. The great Sergeant Myers, bloody and shuffling along at a snails' pace? C Squad would start spreading it down through all the lower Ranks. Even the illustrious A Squad would get in on it. It'd be all over S.P.D. by tomorrow morning.
He reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Man, he was tired.
Justin and Billy would be all over him for stressing his morpher when he knew better. Probably Cam, too. Maybe even Hayley. She'd been hanging around Billy a lot these days. Kat and Nerina would probably be in on it, but Nerina wasn't pushy enough to really get involved, and Kat would be too busy dealing with B Squad.
*Vanessa* on the other hand. Now she'd have him doing one of Cruger's stupid senseless punishments. Cleaning out the mud swamp with a spoon or something. She'd be into that kind of thing.
Carter was probably right back into the Infirmary, with Syd fussing at him and Ryan laughing behind his back while Aisha read him the riot act for doing something stupid. Zack was probably reorganizing security for the base and grumbling about how much of a pain it was going to be to keep track of things until they got the repairs done. Taylor and Dustin would complain about Tommy and the others trashing the Zord Bay and all the work it was going to take to fix it. Rocky and Shane were probably complaining about their squads getting stuck on cleanup, while Jason and Adam were volunteering theirs. Andros was probably trying to keep track of A Squad's rehabilitation and doing six jobs at once until someone else - probably Ashley or Zhane - forced him to stop. Karone would be doing the exact same thing as her brother, but without getting caught. Cruger and Tommy were trying to organize everyone and keep track of everything, not bothering to notice Kimberly and Karone were already taking care of it. Not to say that Tommy or Cruger weren't capable leaders; the girls were just better at organizing.
Must be something about being pink, he decided, wincing as his ankle twinged again. Jen was like that, too.
Not that he'd ever really known the Pink Time Force Ranger all that well. Or any of them, really. He'd only ever bothered getting close to Wes. They'd been Wes' friends, not his. And he was fine with that.
They'd always butted heads, anyway. Jen, Lucas, and Katie all thought he was arrogant. Jen seemed to think he was an idiot, too. Always trying to tell him how he 'didn't understand' something. How he 'didn't know' what was really at stake.
The sudden flare of pain in his left hand told him he was clenching his fist, and he looked down at it in surprise. Darn. Popped knuckles. That was gonna be a blast to fix.
Trip hadn't been too bad, he supposed. He was kind of annoying, but at least he listened more than the others. Made the effort.
He smiled wryly to himself. And he'd know all about not listening, wouldn't he?
~"I promise to listen. I promise to always be there, however I can, whenever you need me. No more fighting alone. We're partners, now and forever."
The smile he got in return was warm, blue eyes sparkling with emotion. If they didn't hurry this thing up, Wes was probably going to start crying. Not that he'd ever admit to it later.
"I promise to stop hiding," Wes said softly, swallowing hard. "I promise to always be honest with you, no matter what. No more secrets. Partners in everything, whatever it takes. Now and forever."
"You may now kiss your spouse."
But he was already too lost in blue eyes and soft lips to hear the minister's words.~
He took a slow breath, stopping for a moment to close his eyes as his ribs protested. Wes is fine, he told himself firmly. Stop worrying about him. You know he's fine. He always is.
Because Wes always came back. When the odds were against him, his friends from the future rescued him, he survived the war, his morpher kept him alive, his sight was restored. He *always* came back. Because Wes was just that kind of guy.
His ribs were *really* starting to ache now, and he found himself glancing around for a place to sit down. There was a large chunk of cement sitting on what used to be someone's car; he figured that'd do.
What was it R.J. always said? "People worry when they have something worth caring about. If it wasn't worth caring, it wasn't worth worrying."
He smiled faintly. Huh. Who knew R.J. had something worth remembering to say?
I wonder if I can get him to make me one of his pizzas, he thought idly. Steak, sausage, bacon, mushrooms, onions, and bell peppers. Red sauce, because Wes is a freak and white sauce does not belong on pizza. Ask R.J. for some of that bruise cream he keeps stashed in their room while it's cooking. Watch Sky play with Sheep and Jen while Vanessa lectures him about keeping the animal hair out of her lab. Laying in Wes' lap on the couch, listening to him talk about something I could really care less about ...
The sharp pain in his chest was the only thing that alerted him to the fact that he was starting to fall asleep.
He blinked, shaking his head slightly, and took another slow breath. Right. Awake. Awake is good.
Where is R.J., anyway? he wondered distantly, slowly pushing himself to his feet with a grimace. He should have been here by now. Ocean Bluff isn't *that* far from Newtech City.
Eh. The hippy'd probably already beaten him back to base. He smiled again at the thought, giving another slow head shake. Probably already planning some sort of weird celebratory party for Grumm's defeat. R.J. was good with parties. He was good with anything that involved cheering people up or taking care of others, really.
R.J. a weird guy, but a decent one. He'd make a great guardian for the new baby. And Vanessa would keep him in line when he started getting weird.
He closed his eyes as his smile widened. He was having a baby. He and Wes were going to be parents again. The *right* way this time: together. Like it always should have been.
He limped along slowly for three more blocks, wondering what the baby would look like. Alex looked like Wes with his coloring. Ben looked more like him with Wes' coloring. Sky looked like his mother, but he had a few hints of Wes in there. So the baby would probably look more like Wes. He couldn't really say he was against that.
Probably a boy. The O'Neill side had a tendency for boys. The Collins were half and half. He'd like a girl, just because, but another boy would be good. Someone for Sky to look out for, keep out of trouble.
Keep them *both* out of trouble.
Because the kid *would* be trouble. It was practically hereditary; from both sides - not that he'd admit it. Which meant they'd have their hands full. But he didn't really mind that, either.
Kid was gonna need a good name, he mused. Something simple. Last name was gonna be a pain, though. And he didn't care if it was easier: there was *no way* Wes would ever get him to agree to hyphenate their names. That was just stupid.
They'd probably just use a coin. It'd be worth it to see that look on Alan's face again. See if they could get Sky to make that same look.
He chuckled softly at the memory, wincing as his ribs throbbed. Okay, laughing ... not such a good idea.
He glanced up when the pain finally died, sighing in relief as he realized where he was. Delta Drive. S.P.D. was just around the corner. He was almost home.
Home. There was a term he thought he'd never use.
Growing up, home was his baby brother. Charlie was the only permanent thing in his life, bouncing between military housings while Mom was always off on some new project and seeing Dad was even rarer. College housing had been just as temporary. Then they'd lost Charlie, his parents had separated, and he was struggling just to figure out how to find a steady job, let alone a residence. He'd lived with Wes for awhile, but even then it hard been hard to call it 'home'.
And now ...
Now he had Wes back in his life. He had his kids, whether they were lurking around S.P.D. or a thousand years in the future. He had his friends, his squad, his coworkers. He had Vanessa and R.J.
He had a family.
It hit him hard, just as he finally made it into the Hanger. There were people everywhere, gathered in crowds mostly by squad or department. His eyes automatically tracked all seven squads, all battered but more or less in one piece. All of the Rangers they'd had when he headed out for the main entrance were still there. Even the members of the Rescue Team from S.P.D. Japan were in the crowd. And - was that *Cruger* hugging another Syrian? Wasn't Cruger supposed to be the last of his kind?
But the two most important things he'd been trying to find all day were standing with their Squads, looking on at the people being reunited. There was even Vanessa was standing by Wes, holding her helmet and scowling as always. And that was what mattered.
He was home. *They* were home.
He sighed to himself in relief, even though he still had no idea what was going on. "Okay, *what* did I miss?"