Bright Skies (Multi - Season Crossover/Power Rangers, prompt #2: Endings, T)
Finally: a new chapter of Bright Skies! ^_^
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/Crestria. Future Ryan/Carter and Billy/Hayley. More couples will most likely be mentioned, but not shown.
prompt/: #2: Endings
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 Partol Delta. But even a new life has its ups and downs - and weird friends.
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
Author's Notes/: This one was a bit harder for me to write, so I hope it comes across well. For anyone who's curious or hasn't read A Darker Shade of Red, Wes thinks Trip can't sing because he's never heard what (my version of) Xibrian sounds like, when it would actually make Katie's singing voice sound like a dying cow. Also, much love for Challon86, who helped me work out the backstory of Wes' mom.
He didn't really need to take a lot with him for the move. S.P.D. didn't exactly have a lot of closet space, as he'd been warned. But it was still a good idea to pack everything up so that it would be easier for his dad to store.
His life in boxes. Wasn't that a fun thought. Well, at least he knew it was going to be a depressing project when he started.
Vanessa had told him S.P.D. would provide uniforms, so he didn't really need many clothes. Just enough for some casual clothing for when he finally couldn't stand to be stuck in 'work mode' any longer. He found the suit his father had bought him for his birthday last year, among other things, and figured it couldn't hurt.
The red shirts were beginning to get annoying. He knew he wore Red a lot - pretty much the requirement of being a Ranger - but this was rediculous. And T - shirts? When did he get all these Red T - shirts? He wasn't even really a T - shirt kind of guy; too restrictive.
He paused, wincing in memory. He'd started picking up T-shirts because his dad had warned him he'd need more clothing that he didn't mind ruining. And before that, it was because he only had one gi and he was sick of washing so many tank tops after workouts just so he could wear one under his Guardian uniform the next day.
When did he get this many movies? He loved Westerns, but this was getting rediculous. Three Faces West, New Frontier, Wyoming Outlaw, Stagecoach, Santa Fe Stampede ...
The Legend of the Lone Ranger.
Instantly a warm smile spread across his face. "High-yo Silver, away." he whispered, tracing a thumb along the side of the case. God, how many times had he heard Trip shout that while he gave him a piggyback ride, pretending to 'gallop' around the Clock Tower? Katie always laughed at them, Lucas shook his head and pretended they weren't there, and Jen threatened to beat them senseless if they didn't knock it off before one of them got hurt. But it was worth it to see them all fighting smiles. And the way Trip's face always lit up while he waved his cowboy hat around ...
He swallowed hard, and set the movie aside with the rest of them.
The amount of CDs he'd collected weren't anywhere near as bad as his movies since most of his music was downloaded now, but it was still a hefty amount. He knew he wouldn't be taking any of those, so he quickly sorted and began to box them up.
He groaned when he came across The Sound of Music. Katie had been *obsessed* with that musical for weeks. Trip hadn't been any better; he'd thought the happy music was just what they all needed. Eventally he, Lucas, and Jen collaborated a plan to steal the CD and hide it. Their timing couldn't have been better; after the nightmares with the Vennomark serum, and then Dragontron, and -
Anyway, she hadn't remembered to look for it, and by the time she did it they were wrapped up in that mess with the black knight.
He looked at it for a long time, remembering Katie's smile, her voice as she sang along merrily. Her laughter when Trip tried to join in, only to have Lucas cover his mouth and tell him that was cruel and unusual punishment. He still wasn't sure why Trip was so offended at the idea that he couldn't sing.
He reached for another box and stopped abruptly. The side had been labeled Pictures, and the careful, childish scrawl wasn't his handwriting. It was his mother's.
It took several minutes before he was able to open it. A fancy leather photo album sat on top - probably another one of Dad's gifts for her. He wasn't surprised to find that it had only been partially filled, with pictures placed randomly throughout the book. He pulled it out and set it in his lap, slowly turning through it.
There were more pictures of them than he'd realized there would be. When he was five, the first time they met face to face. Her eyes were bright and happy as she reached for him, and the matching looks of awe on both their faces made his heart ache. At nine, feeding each other a slice of his birthday cake - they'd had to sneak that into the Center for her. Two, wearing nothing but a diaper and dragging around a blanket - his dad must have sent her that one. Ten, proudly holding up his first karate trophy. Twelve, when she'd fallen and hurt herself and they'd come to visit her. He was holding her hand and talking to her about the wild flowers he'd picked just for her while she watched him with an adoring expression. Six, playing with the barbie dolls they'd both gotten in their happy meals. He'd told his dad he wanted a toy just like Mom's, so they could play together.
He blinked rapidly.
In the back, on the very last page, a picture he'd never expected to be taken. Somehow she'd managed to convince one of the nurses to take a picture of her with him when he was born - her parents certainly never would have done it. He was still in NICU - Angel Unit, that's what Dad always called it - but somehow she'd talked them into letting her hold him. Tiny, red - faced and wrapped in a blue blanket, his beautiful, round - eyed mother beaming at him through her glasses. She looked tiny and paler than usual in the white hospital gown, but her smile lit up the room.
She was twenty years old. He wondered if she'd realized at that point that her parents were going to take him away from her. That it would take the best lawyer his dad had been able to find to allow her to see him again - five years later.
She probably had. The picture was worn, faded and slightly ripped along the edges. There was a thin spot in the photo paper itself over his face that looked like it had been rubbed repeatedly.
He forced himself to put the album aside at last and put the lid back on the box. He didn't think he could look at it anymore right now. He had enough memories of the past still left to sort through.
Another smaller box of pictures, this time in his own handwriting. He hesitated before he opened it, but forced himself to anyway. If he was going to get all this organized, it wouldn't help him to avoid anything.
This time he found the pictures of his friends goofing off with the Wild Force Rangers. He still regreted not being able to pocket any of the poloroids they'd taken so long ago before he had Eric and been forced to flee the Clock Tower. Several shots of the guys from the Red Ranger mission when they'd all gone out for pizza just to annoy T.J. Minus Tommy of course, who'd had to head back to some major project he was working on, and Aurico, who'd gone straight home to Aquitar. He also found several scraps of paper with phone numbers on them from each of the guys, all wrapped up in a rubber band. He still wasn't sure where the lipstick mark on Cole's had come from, and he didn't think he wanted to, considering Cole had looked so confused himself. He took a moment to double check that he'd already put all the numbers into his cell phone before tossing the scraps back into the box out of habit rather than throwing them away.
He sighed to himself and went to remove them again, even though part of him was tempted to hang on to them just for the story behind Cole's. His eyes fell on another picture as he picked up the scraps, and he paused to stare at it. This time it was him and Eric, at the pizza joint with the rest of the guys. He'd somehow gotten himself suckered into an arcade battle with Carter over a shooting game - dumbest mistake of his life - and Eric had kept lecturing him that he better not shame the reputation of the Silver Guardians. He'd been losing, Eric had grabbed his hand to correct his grip, and he'd turned to snap at him that if he wanted to play he'd have to wait his turn already. Leo of course, had decided that was the perfect time to inform them he'd snagged a disposable camera on his 'trip to the bathroom' - *after* he'd taken the picture.
The look between the two of them was intense, despite the fact that he was glaring at Eric. Because of the way he'd turned when Eric still had a hand on his arm they were nearly chest to chest. It should have looked completely innocent, but somehow it just ... didn't.
And if he remembered correctly, it was T.J.'s wolf whistle that had finally separated them. Then he'd discovered Carter had never bothered to stop shooting, so there was no way he could even lose gracefully now. He and Eric had nearly brawled over the fact that he lost so spectacularly - which *was* Eric's fault. Then Cole had emerged from the bathroom with his face and neck covered in lipstick kisses, looking dazed and slightly frightened, while Andros directed him by the shoulder and looked around protectively. Leo had stood there taking pictures of them all and grinning, and Jason laughed so hard he nearly stopped breathing.
He'd finally managed to ask Eric out two months later, after many more intense stares and accidental closeness.
He dopped scraps *and* the picture back into the box and moved on.
His next find wasn't much better: the racing glove Lucas had pulled on, moments before completely humiliating him by showing off his driving skills. *That* was a weird day. He still couldn't walk past that poor driving instructor on the street anymore with out fighting an urge to giggle hysterically.
He pulled on the glove almost absently, amused by the fact that it was slightly big on him. Lucas had left it behind, claiming *he* could always buy a new one, but Wes could use all the help he could get. It brought back fond memories of one of the few times Lucas had showed another side of himself, somewhere between Jen's faithful lackey and narcisism. When Lucas had seemed honestly happy, just for a few hours. The side of him Trip had always insisted was there; Wes just hadn't been able to see it yet.
Carefully placing it to the side, he wondered if Lucas had finally got up the nerve to date Trip seriously yet.
A few boxes later he found his prized possession: Jen's Time Force badge. His proof that whole incredible year of his life had really happened. That there really was such a thing as Time Force, that he really had friends from the future, that he knew a real, live alien. His reminder of everything they'd fought for: Jen's revenge for Alex, Lucas' loyalty to his team, Katie's fear for the people she loved, Trip's desire to do the right thing, his own need to break free of the life his father was trying to drive him towards. Even Eric's craving for Power and acceptance.
His Chrono Morpher couldn't give him that.
He tucked the badge inside Lucas' glove, and reached for a box labeled Receipts with a groan.
Of course not even receipts were a safe subject: he found several for new video game controllers, for all the times Eric had broken, worn out, or lost one. Then there was The Red Mighty Morphin Power Ranger action figure he'd had since he was little, now tied to the Q-Rex action figure he'd originally picked up to tease Eric about the Quantum Ranger's new popularity. Seeing them together gave him an uncomfortable feeling that he tried to brush off by thinking of how smug Jason would be if he knew that Wes had his action figure.
The next box revealed a framed hospital bill.
He stared at it, frowning as he tried to remember why in the world he had a *framed* copy of his dad's -
Oh.
He'd come out to his father and admitted about his relationship with Eric after just over a year together. His dad threwn a fit, refusing to believe it, blaming Eric, accusing him - accusing them *both* really, of doing this just to get back at him. The fights drove him to move in with Eric a lot sooner than planned, but they managed.
Everything came to a head at work one day, when his dad finally said something that pushed him over the line. He couldn't even remember what it was now, just that he'd literally seen red. He turned, shouted at him that he was a bigoted, self - centered jerk who couldn't put anyone else's happiness before his own, and punched his father as hard as he could.
He broke his nose. Nearly shattered it - they'd been extremely lucky that Wes hadn't tapped into any Ranger stength. As it was, his dad's face was wrapped in bandages for weeks.
Eric had been the one to calmly pick up his father, grab *him* firmly by the arm, and inform the receptionist that they were all leaving for the day. He'd forced them both into a car and had his father admitted to the emergency room, because even he was starting to become vaguely concerned about the amount of blood. Eric was also the one who had shoved him into his father's private room (of course) and told them both to shut it, and if they didn't stop acting like five - year - olds and work this out, he'd stick them each in a corner until they were ready to grow up. Then he'd stood guard at the door, turning to stare at them both anytime their voices grew loud enough to be heard in the hallway.
In the end, Eric was right. He and his dad had talked - a lot. Dad finally confessed that it wasn't Eric he was so opposed to. He was worried for Wes, because he didn't want him to go through the same problems of being in a socially unacceptable relationship that he'd had with his mother. He didn't want him to suffer like they did, being separated because everyone told him it was wrong. To be called horrible names because they didn't understand what it was like to truly love someone and see them for the person they were inside.
They'd come to an understanding that day, and while Dad wasn't happy about Wes' choice, he accepted it, and welcomed Eric with open arms and his full support. It was also right after that that he finally told Eric about his mom. While Eric had been shocked, more than slightly angry that Wes hadn't told him about her earlier, and more than just a bit defensive on his mom's behalf, he'd done his best to understand. And the following week, he took Eric to meet her in person at the Health Center, intoducing him to her as his boyfriend.
His mom had smiled warmly at them both, and told Eric he was beautiful.
He tried to push the image of Eric's very red face and shy smile at her out of his mind as he stashed the bill in another box. Eric had taken a copy of it to frame, insisting Wes needed a momento of the second time he'd stood up for himself against his father on someone else's behalf. Especially now, when his first - the Clock Tower - was still under reconstruction.
The last box read simply Wes, in the handwriting Eric only used when he was angry or in a hurry - usually both. He didn't know how long he stared at it, trying to summon up the courage to open the stupid thing. It was just a box. Just a box, packed with stuff from his ex's house, shoved together the day Eric had showed up at work and pushed the whole thing at him. The day after Eric had yelled at him to get out and never come back.
He swallowed hard as he finally forced himself to reach for the lid.
The first thing inside it was that stupid Red Beret.
Apparently the Silver Guardians were only giving one commander the Red Beret, to prevent confusing anyone in the field. With him and Eric as co-commanders, they had to decide which one of them would wear it. Which of course, neither of them wanted to - it was a Red Beret for crying out loud. Eric said it pinched his head too tight and gave him headaches, while Wes swore Eric was the commander all the Guardians already knew. They'd settled it through rock-paper-sissors. Wes lost, and Eric laughed at him for the entire first week he showed up to work wearing it. He'd retaliated by dying all of Eric's uniforms pink.
He tossed the beret aside and reached in. Most of it was junk: mail, some magazines, personal hygene stuff. But then he hit something soft.
Eric's shirt.
Just a random black shirt, some T-shirt Eric had probably grabbed because it was the first thing he saw. It had been wrapped around something to protect it, and he unfolded it to find a obnoxiously bright mug declaring 'Happy Birthday!' in childish print. The mug he'd given Eric for his twenty-eight birthday.
Ten days later Alexander was born, Benjamin following behind the next day.
He slowly set the mug aside, bringing the shirt up to his face. Inhaling deeply, he searched for a hint of Eric's scent and sighed in disappointment when he didn't find it. He took a moment to bury his face in it, struggling to bring himself back under control. Maybe he shouldn't have done all of this in one day.
It took effort to force himself to put shirt down, reaching in for the last item without looking.
He pulled out a blue baby blanket.
He froze, staring at it in horror. Almost instantly everything he'd been trying to push away came flooding back: his mother, his friends, Eric, Alex and Ben. Just looking at it he could already picture one of his tiny sons wrapped up in it, Eric grinning openly while reaching down to brush the baby's cheek with his finger ever-so gently. A flash of his mom with that brilliant smile and bright eyes behind the shine of her glasses, looking at him with such obvious pride.
The emotions swelled up over him. This was everything he had lost, everything he had given up, everything he was leaving behind. He was trying to find a new life, a new place in the world where he could finally find himself again. And he couldn't bring all of these memories with him.
He didn't think he wanted to.
****
When he left three days later, he packed two of the red T-shirts in with some slacks and tank tops, his suit and tie, and a couple pairs of shoes into a duffle bag. Carefully hidden inside the shirts were Jen's badge and his mother's picture in a brown frame that matched her eyes. Everything else remained behind.