Bright Skies (Multi - Season Crossover/Power Rangers, prompt #43: Deaf, T)
-Points down- This is why I shouldn't stay up late trying to post. I got halfway through posting this last night and fell asleep with my computer on. x.x
-Blinking sleepily- I've spent the last ... too many hours to count posting updates for this story on fanfiction.net, because I realized it was like, sixteen chapters behind. And now I's getting tired. -Yawns-
Much love and hugs for BlackCrimsonLight, for beta'ing Wes and Eric's part of this chapter.
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/: Post - Wes/Eric, Rocky/Adam, Shane/Dustin, Hunter/Cam, Carter/Dana, Andros/Ashley, Zhane/Karone, Carlos/Ronny, Jason/Taylor, Conner/Ethan, Justin/Rose, Tommy/Kimberly, Tyzonn/Mack, Cassie/OC, Nick/Maddison, Zack/Aisha, Trent/Kira, Post - Billy/Cestria. Future Ryan/Carter and Billy/Hayley. More couples will most likely be mentioned, but not shown.
prompt/: #43: Deaf
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/: Writing depressed Wes is a pain in the ass. And that's all I have to say.
Also, a special dedication for SierraNicole, who's I Don't Miss You YouTube video inspired this conversation before it was written.
"Stupid cadets *still* weren't listening, so I sent them on a double run through the obstacle course. Then they were too tired to do anything *but* listen," Eric went on smugly.
Wes dropped his fork against his plate without warning, making a frustrated noise. "What are you doing here?" he asked irritably.
"Visiting you," Eric returned, sounding amused by the question.
"*Why*?" Wes ground out.
There was a pause. "Why *wouldn't* I visit you?"
He pinched his nose, feeling frustrated and annoyed, and wanting nothing more than for Eric to go away. "Because four years ago we agreed things were over between us, and you told me - and I quote - 'I can't do this anymore.' And when I tried to say something, you walked off. I haven't so much as gotten an e-mail from you since then. What are you doing here now?"
There was a long pause. At last Eric cleared his throat. "Actually, it's been eight," he reminded him gently.
He closed his eyes, feeling that familiar well of despair. Four years. Four years of his life gone, and he could never get them back. He'd gone into a fight with his team at thirty-eight years old, leaving behind an eight-year-old son, and woken up at forty-two years old, blind, with a twelve-year-old he didn't know, his team destroyed or gone from S.P.D., and a man he'd given up on years ago suddenly trying to find a place in his life again.
"Right," he muttered, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "My mistake."
"And what I meant when I said that back then was that I couldn't dance with you and pretend I didn't still care," Eric said quietly.
His head snapped up again. "*What*?"
Eric sighed. "Wes, I told you that I wanted to forgive you, but I didn't know if I could. I never said I didn't want to *try*. *You* walked out on me before I could finish, and then showed up and asked for some sort of farewell dance. I couldn't pretend that I didn't love you anymore just like that."
He stared at where he thought Eric was sitting, feeling very cold all of a sudden. "Wait. Just ... wait," he said, shaking his head and holding up a hand. "Are you trying to tell me that we ended our relationship because of a misunderstanding?"
There was a long sigh. "Vanessa seems to think so."
His fist clenched. "And ... what? Now you're here to patch things up? Feeling guilty because I got hurt and you weren't there? You think because I can't even remember what the year is, we can fix things between us? What?"
"Wes, that's not what I - "
"Get out," he interrupted.
Eric paused. "What?"
"I said, get. Out," he growled. "I don't want you in here anymore. In fact, I don't want you anywhere near me. Why don't you do us both a favor and just get the hell out of my life? You're good at that." he added, sneering.
He didn't expect the sudden flare of pain in his jaw as his head snapped to the side.
There was a long silence, filled with the sound of them both breathing heavily. "I'm sorry I hit you," Eric said carefully, his voice tight with restrained anger. "But you're being a jerk."
His eyes widened in indignation, but Eric was talking over him before he could even voice a protest. "First of all, if you'd ever bothered to listen to *anything* I've been telling you over the last few days, *I live here*. I have a job with S.P.D. I help Vanessa out with Sky, and I'm a part of his life now. I have friends here that I'm not leaving just because you don't want me to be here.
"Second, I didn't leave you. *You* left me."
"You *told* me to get out!" he shouted back.
"And then you walked out on me," Eric snarled, finally losing control over his temper. Wes was vaguely surprised he'd kept it in check this long. "And I've been trying for years to get over you, because you didn't want me anymore. But I keep coming back to one thing: *I love you*. And every time you've been in trouble, I was there. The only time I didn't was when you weren't even on the planet, and I had no way to get to you. Which, by the way, made my life miserable, so thanks for that."
"You never bothered to tell me you were there!"
"Because I wasn't ready to talk to you. That doesn't mean I didn't care enough to come at all!"
"You can't just expect to walk back into my life after all this time and pretend nothing happened!"
"That's *not* what I'm trying to do!"
Furious, Wes reached, his fingers scrambling for something, anything -
They settled on his lunch tray, and he threw it in the direction he thought Eric was standing. "I don't need your pity, and I don't need you! Get out of my room!"
There was a tense silence. "Fine!" Eric snapped finally. "Forget you!"
"Screw you!" Wes yelled after him.
He waited after he heard the door slam, waiting for what seemed like an eternity to be sure he was really gone.
Then he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. "Darn you, Eric," he growled into it, trying to fight back the sob that he could feel welling up in his chest. "Why do you always do this to me?!"
The dam broke, and he sobbed in frustration and hurt.
****
"Dad ... ?"
The voice was unfamiliar, but there was no one else it could be. He sat up straighter, looking anxiously for its owner. "Sky?"
"Yeah." The sound of shuffling feet, but as far as he could tell, Sky wasn't coming any closer. "It's me," he said finally.
He forced a smile. "I ... how are you?"
"Better than you," came the abrupt answer, and he frowned. Something about that response was eerily familiar, and he didn't think he liked it.
"Well ... what are you doing now? How's school going? Any new friends?" The smile was still awkward, but he tried to sound cheerful. "Tell me about yourself."
There was a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm an S.P.D. cadet - H Squad," Sky said at last. "I don't go to public school anymore; they started schooling younger cadets, and I joined up was soon as the new program started. I don't have time for friends."
"No time for friends?" He forced a laugh. "What about Bridge and Sydney? And ... I think someone said something about a guy named Dru?"
"Haven't seen Bridge in years, and Syd's a pain. She's always off on tour, and she's a total drama queen whenever she visits." There was a pause, and Sky muttered "And Dru's just a guy on my Squad. We barely know each other."
"Sydney's on tour?" he repeated, wondering when she'd started going by Syd.
Sky snorted. "Yeah. She convinced someone that she could sing, and now she's all over the place."
"Sky, that's not nice," he said automatically.
There was an awkward pause.
"She says worse," Sky said eventually. "Thinks she's the greatest thing since S.P.D."
"Still - "
Something slammed, and he flinched, tensing. "Look, Dad," Sky said quietly, the words sounding forced. "I'm not eight years old anymore. I've grown up. You can't just lecture me like a little kid and expect me to listen."
"That's ... that's not what I was trying to do," he protested weakly. A painful lump was forming in his throat. "I just ... No matter what's happened Sky, you're still my son. And I love you."
"Wesley, you're my son."
"You don't know me."
He swallowed hard. "I want to."
There was another long silence.
"I know about Alex."
He froze. " ... What?"
"Eric told me a couple years ago. He didn't want to, but I made him. So don't blame it on him." Sky's voice was surprisingly sharp.
" ... You two sound close."
"He has raised me for the last four years, so yeah, I guess so."
Wes flinched.
"Eric never lies to me, either. He always tells me everything I want to know when I ask," Sky went on.
"I never lied to you!"
"You never told me the whole truth, either," Sky pointed out. "'I did a very bad thing, and Uncle Eric couldn't forgive me for it'? That's how you sum up my older brothers, that I never even knew *existed*?"
"You were four! What was I supposed to say?"
"Something better than 'I did a very bad thing!'" Sky snapped back. He sighed in frustration. "I should go," he muttered.
"No!" Wes sat up straighter, trying to reach out for him. "Don't - don't go!"
"I promised Eric I wouldn't yell at you, but I don't if I can do that anymore," Sky said shortly. "So before he gets pissed off at me for upsetting you, I'd better leave."
"Sky, wait! Sky - "
"Later, Dad."
He froze, listening to the sound of the door banging shut. For a moment he struggled, trying to find a way to stand up. But the machines still monitoring him held him back, and he nearly sobbed in frustration. "Sky, I'm sorry," he whispered.
He closed his eyes, leaning back against the bed again. Whatever you want me to apologize for, I'm sorry.
****
"Hey, Wes."
The voice was decidedly more chipper than any of the others that had visited him yet, but a far cry from what it had sounded like before, and it took him several moments to place it. "Zhane?"
"That's me." A chair scraping against the floor, and the voice was suddenly next to him. "How you holding up?"
The question was unusually serious, and completely unassuming. All the same, it made him blink harshly for a moment as he had to regain control of himself. He'd cried too much already. "I'm fine." he said at last. "You don't have to baby-sit me."
"You're not fine." Zhane's voice was flat. "You're not going to be fine for a long time. I'm *still* not fine, so I know you aren't."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.
Zhane sighed. "I know you've read my file, Wes," he said pointedly.
It took him a moment to remember. "Believed to be killed in the attack on KO-35 in the year 1996, awoke two years later and joined the Astro Rangers in the fight against Astronema and Dark Specter," he murmured without thinking.
"And later married her," Zhane agreed wryly. "But anyway, I know better than anyone else what you're going through right now."
Something inside of him snapped, just as it had with Eric. He didn't know what it was or why, but in an instant, he was furious.
"How can you *possibly* know what I'm going through?" he snapped. "You can still *see*. You didn't wake up to find your team destroyed, your ex taking over your life, and a son that hates you!"
"No." Zhane's unwavering calm only made him angrier. "I woke up to find my best friend had moved on, my team had abandoned their mission, and I was on a ship with four people and an Alpha unit I had never met before who all expected me to just be one of them in a heartbeat, without any question or discomfort on my part. Maybe I can still see, and maybe I didn't have a son that didn't know how to talk to me anymore, but I still understand you better than anyone else possibly can, Wes. And that's why you can yell at me all you want, but I'm not going away." He paused, and in a softer, broken tone, added "And it was *my* team, too."
He wanted to hate him. Maybe even more than Eric. After all, he hadn't gone with them; he hadn't watched it happen.
He hadn't failed them.
A hand brushed his shoulder, startling him. "There's one thing you're forgetting, Wes," Zhane continued quietly. He paused. "We've all had time to grieve for what we lost. You haven't."
He could feel the tears spilling over, slowly streaking his cheeks. "I failed them, Zhane," he whispered. "I failed ... everyone."
Arms came around him. "Even heroes fail sometime, Wes." Zhane's voice was painfully gentle, and filled with an understanding no one else had shared with him. "We fail ... but we still have to live with the consequences."
-Blinking sleepily- I've spent the last ... too many hours to count posting updates for this story on fanfiction.net, because I realized it was like, sixteen chapters behind. And now I's getting tired. -Yawns-
Much love and hugs for BlackCrimsonLight, for beta'ing Wes and Eric's part of this chapter.
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/: Post - Wes/Eric, Rocky/Adam, Shane/Dustin, Hunter/Cam, Carter/Dana, Andros/Ashley, Zhane/Karone, Carlos/Ronny, Jason/Taylor, Conner/Ethan, Justin/Rose, Tommy/Kimberly, Tyzonn/Mack, Cassie/OC, Nick/Maddison, Zack/Aisha, Trent/Kira, Post - Billy/Cestria. Future Ryan/Carter and Billy/Hayley. More couples will most likely be mentioned, but not shown.
prompt/: #43: Deaf
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/: Writing depressed Wes is a pain in the ass. And that's all I have to say.
Also, a special dedication for SierraNicole, who's I Don't Miss You YouTube video inspired this conversation before it was written.
"Stupid cadets *still* weren't listening, so I sent them on a double run through the obstacle course. Then they were too tired to do anything *but* listen," Eric went on smugly.
Wes dropped his fork against his plate without warning, making a frustrated noise. "What are you doing here?" he asked irritably.
"Visiting you," Eric returned, sounding amused by the question.
"*Why*?" Wes ground out.
There was a pause. "Why *wouldn't* I visit you?"
He pinched his nose, feeling frustrated and annoyed, and wanting nothing more than for Eric to go away. "Because four years ago we agreed things were over between us, and you told me - and I quote - 'I can't do this anymore.' And when I tried to say something, you walked off. I haven't so much as gotten an e-mail from you since then. What are you doing here now?"
There was a long pause. At last Eric cleared his throat. "Actually, it's been eight," he reminded him gently.
He closed his eyes, feeling that familiar well of despair. Four years. Four years of his life gone, and he could never get them back. He'd gone into a fight with his team at thirty-eight years old, leaving behind an eight-year-old son, and woken up at forty-two years old, blind, with a twelve-year-old he didn't know, his team destroyed or gone from S.P.D., and a man he'd given up on years ago suddenly trying to find a place in his life again.
"Right," he muttered, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "My mistake."
"And what I meant when I said that back then was that I couldn't dance with you and pretend I didn't still care," Eric said quietly.
His head snapped up again. "*What*?"
Eric sighed. "Wes, I told you that I wanted to forgive you, but I didn't know if I could. I never said I didn't want to *try*. *You* walked out on me before I could finish, and then showed up and asked for some sort of farewell dance. I couldn't pretend that I didn't love you anymore just like that."
He stared at where he thought Eric was sitting, feeling very cold all of a sudden. "Wait. Just ... wait," he said, shaking his head and holding up a hand. "Are you trying to tell me that we ended our relationship because of a misunderstanding?"
There was a long sigh. "Vanessa seems to think so."
His fist clenched. "And ... what? Now you're here to patch things up? Feeling guilty because I got hurt and you weren't there? You think because I can't even remember what the year is, we can fix things between us? What?"
"Wes, that's not what I - "
"Get out," he interrupted.
Eric paused. "What?"
"I said, get. Out," he growled. "I don't want you in here anymore. In fact, I don't want you anywhere near me. Why don't you do us both a favor and just get the hell out of my life? You're good at that." he added, sneering.
He didn't expect the sudden flare of pain in his jaw as his head snapped to the side.
There was a long silence, filled with the sound of them both breathing heavily. "I'm sorry I hit you," Eric said carefully, his voice tight with restrained anger. "But you're being a jerk."
His eyes widened in indignation, but Eric was talking over him before he could even voice a protest. "First of all, if you'd ever bothered to listen to *anything* I've been telling you over the last few days, *I live here*. I have a job with S.P.D. I help Vanessa out with Sky, and I'm a part of his life now. I have friends here that I'm not leaving just because you don't want me to be here.
"Second, I didn't leave you. *You* left me."
"You *told* me to get out!" he shouted back.
"And then you walked out on me," Eric snarled, finally losing control over his temper. Wes was vaguely surprised he'd kept it in check this long. "And I've been trying for years to get over you, because you didn't want me anymore. But I keep coming back to one thing: *I love you*. And every time you've been in trouble, I was there. The only time I didn't was when you weren't even on the planet, and I had no way to get to you. Which, by the way, made my life miserable, so thanks for that."
"You never bothered to tell me you were there!"
"Because I wasn't ready to talk to you. That doesn't mean I didn't care enough to come at all!"
"You can't just expect to walk back into my life after all this time and pretend nothing happened!"
"That's *not* what I'm trying to do!"
Furious, Wes reached, his fingers scrambling for something, anything -
They settled on his lunch tray, and he threw it in the direction he thought Eric was standing. "I don't need your pity, and I don't need you! Get out of my room!"
There was a tense silence. "Fine!" Eric snapped finally. "Forget you!"
"Screw you!" Wes yelled after him.
He waited after he heard the door slam, waiting for what seemed like an eternity to be sure he was really gone.
Then he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. "Darn you, Eric," he growled into it, trying to fight back the sob that he could feel welling up in his chest. "Why do you always do this to me?!"
The dam broke, and he sobbed in frustration and hurt.
****
"Dad ... ?"
The voice was unfamiliar, but there was no one else it could be. He sat up straighter, looking anxiously for its owner. "Sky?"
"Yeah." The sound of shuffling feet, but as far as he could tell, Sky wasn't coming any closer. "It's me," he said finally.
He forced a smile. "I ... how are you?"
"Better than you," came the abrupt answer, and he frowned. Something about that response was eerily familiar, and he didn't think he liked it.
"Well ... what are you doing now? How's school going? Any new friends?" The smile was still awkward, but he tried to sound cheerful. "Tell me about yourself."
There was a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm an S.P.D. cadet - H Squad," Sky said at last. "I don't go to public school anymore; they started schooling younger cadets, and I joined up was soon as the new program started. I don't have time for friends."
"No time for friends?" He forced a laugh. "What about Bridge and Sydney? And ... I think someone said something about a guy named Dru?"
"Haven't seen Bridge in years, and Syd's a pain. She's always off on tour, and she's a total drama queen whenever she visits." There was a pause, and Sky muttered "And Dru's just a guy on my Squad. We barely know each other."
"Sydney's on tour?" he repeated, wondering when she'd started going by Syd.
Sky snorted. "Yeah. She convinced someone that she could sing, and now she's all over the place."
"Sky, that's not nice," he said automatically.
There was an awkward pause.
"She says worse," Sky said eventually. "Thinks she's the greatest thing since S.P.D."
"Still - "
Something slammed, and he flinched, tensing. "Look, Dad," Sky said quietly, the words sounding forced. "I'm not eight years old anymore. I've grown up. You can't just lecture me like a little kid and expect me to listen."
"That's ... that's not what I was trying to do," he protested weakly. A painful lump was forming in his throat. "I just ... No matter what's happened Sky, you're still my son. And I love you."
"Wesley, you're my son."
"You don't know me."
He swallowed hard. "I want to."
There was another long silence.
"I know about Alex."
He froze. " ... What?"
"Eric told me a couple years ago. He didn't want to, but I made him. So don't blame it on him." Sky's voice was surprisingly sharp.
" ... You two sound close."
"He has raised me for the last four years, so yeah, I guess so."
Wes flinched.
"Eric never lies to me, either. He always tells me everything I want to know when I ask," Sky went on.
"I never lied to you!"
"You never told me the whole truth, either," Sky pointed out. "'I did a very bad thing, and Uncle Eric couldn't forgive me for it'? That's how you sum up my older brothers, that I never even knew *existed*?"
"You were four! What was I supposed to say?"
"Something better than 'I did a very bad thing!'" Sky snapped back. He sighed in frustration. "I should go," he muttered.
"No!" Wes sat up straighter, trying to reach out for him. "Don't - don't go!"
"I promised Eric I wouldn't yell at you, but I don't if I can do that anymore," Sky said shortly. "So before he gets pissed off at me for upsetting you, I'd better leave."
"Sky, wait! Sky - "
"Later, Dad."
He froze, listening to the sound of the door banging shut. For a moment he struggled, trying to find a way to stand up. But the machines still monitoring him held him back, and he nearly sobbed in frustration. "Sky, I'm sorry," he whispered.
He closed his eyes, leaning back against the bed again. Whatever you want me to apologize for, I'm sorry.
****
"Hey, Wes."
The voice was decidedly more chipper than any of the others that had visited him yet, but a far cry from what it had sounded like before, and it took him several moments to place it. "Zhane?"
"That's me." A chair scraping against the floor, and the voice was suddenly next to him. "How you holding up?"
The question was unusually serious, and completely unassuming. All the same, it made him blink harshly for a moment as he had to regain control of himself. He'd cried too much already. "I'm fine." he said at last. "You don't have to baby-sit me."
"You're not fine." Zhane's voice was flat. "You're not going to be fine for a long time. I'm *still* not fine, so I know you aren't."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.
Zhane sighed. "I know you've read my file, Wes," he said pointedly.
It took him a moment to remember. "Believed to be killed in the attack on KO-35 in the year 1996, awoke two years later and joined the Astro Rangers in the fight against Astronema and Dark Specter," he murmured without thinking.
"And later married her," Zhane agreed wryly. "But anyway, I know better than anyone else what you're going through right now."
Something inside of him snapped, just as it had with Eric. He didn't know what it was or why, but in an instant, he was furious.
"How can you *possibly* know what I'm going through?" he snapped. "You can still *see*. You didn't wake up to find your team destroyed, your ex taking over your life, and a son that hates you!"
"No." Zhane's unwavering calm only made him angrier. "I woke up to find my best friend had moved on, my team had abandoned their mission, and I was on a ship with four people and an Alpha unit I had never met before who all expected me to just be one of them in a heartbeat, without any question or discomfort on my part. Maybe I can still see, and maybe I didn't have a son that didn't know how to talk to me anymore, but I still understand you better than anyone else possibly can, Wes. And that's why you can yell at me all you want, but I'm not going away." He paused, and in a softer, broken tone, added "And it was *my* team, too."
He wanted to hate him. Maybe even more than Eric. After all, he hadn't gone with them; he hadn't watched it happen.
He hadn't failed them.
A hand brushed his shoulder, startling him. "There's one thing you're forgetting, Wes," Zhane continued quietly. He paused. "We've all had time to grieve for what we lost. You haven't."
He could feel the tears spilling over, slowly streaking his cheeks. "I failed them, Zhane," he whispered. "I failed ... everyone."
Arms came around him. "Even heroes fail sometime, Wes." Zhane's voice was painfully gentle, and filled with an understanding no one else had shared with him. "We fail ... but we still have to live with the consequences."