Title: To Break My Time In Two
Rating: T for alcohol use, implied underage drinking, vaguely implied sexuality
Author's Note: I was/am being purposefully vague about which characters these are because, frankly, I like doing that. They're identified by the end. This is a post-Rangerhood setting, like mid- to late-college aged.
Title Credit: lyric from All of This, by Blink-182
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of Power Rangers, Saban Entertainment. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of PuffleHuff. PuffleHuff is in no way associated with Power Rangers, and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.


The world was spinning, and all she wanted to do was sit down, lie down, take a little nap. But she was already sitting. On the bathroom floor, no less, propped between the bathtub and the toilet bowl...

The whir of the ceiling fan in the next room was a deafening roar in her head. But it had been too unbearably hot all day to turn them off. That's part of how she'd gotten into this mess.

Summertime, and the gang all back in town. Too hot for exertion, so how about drinks.

"I know a place we can all get in without I.D.s," someone had said.

She wasn't big on drinking, but it'd been a year since she'd seen all her friends together. And when they all agreed to buy her something pink, she was in trouble.

Those damned, pink fruity drinks were working her over now. She now understood why her R.A. had called them "trouser traps" during their safety orientation: she'd stopped being able to feel her body or think logically hours ago.

But now she could feel her stomach, and she'd give anything for the nausea to stop.

Condensation formed and ran down the side of the glass on the counter as she watched, stared, tried to focus and make the spinning feeling go away. She imagined how cool the iced water would feel on her forehead, and halfheartedly willed the glass toward her to no avail.

"You should try to drink that," came a low voice from the doorway.

"I'm 'fraid it'll loll jus' come up again," she said, her speech labored and slurred.

"You really need to stay hydrated," the voice countered as it moved toward her.

But even the thought of vomitting sent her heaving over the toilet once again. She wanted it to end. She wanted nothing so much as the sweet release of unconsciousness. But it was too hot, and her stomach too unsettled, and the world was spinning too quickly. Carrying her away from the center of gravity she had known so well.

"I'm gonna die," she moaned into the porcelain basin as she reached for the handle. She winced at the rushing cacophony as it flushed and drained.

"You aren't going to die."

His voice was matter of fact, and his hands were cool on her shoulders from his own glass. He searched her eyes as they darted from place to place in her distortion.

"'M gonna vomit, and splinter, and shake inta thousand pieces..."

He smiled at her description in spite of himself.

"Not on my watch."

"Don lemme fall 'part." She reached out for him, to rest her hands on his shoulders as his rested on hers. Her head shook back and forth, 'no', so fiercely he tightened his grip to keep her from falling over.

He mirrored her, shaking 'no' in agreement. Not on his watch.

The condensation trickled from the glass and between her fingers as he helped her hold the water to her lips.

She drank slowly, sipping and waiting, praying not to be sick in front of her best friend again.

It stayed down.

He sat beside her, watching, ready to hold her hair and mop her brow if need be. She trembled beneath his arm over her shoulders.

"Do you think you're ready to lie down?"

Her gaze shifted slowly his direction.

"You help me t' the sofa?"

He nodded as he shifted to support her in standing up.

"You can have the bed."

She was too shaky and weak to protest, so she let him lead her to the edge of the double bed in his tiny bedroom.

"Here's a clean shirt and some sweats," he said as he laid them out beside her. "Sorry, I don't have anything more... appropriate..."

"No. 'S fine."

"I'll be just out here if you need me."

She watched him go, hesitate at the door before leaving it open. He wouldn't let her get into trouble.

She struggled out of her sweaty dress and into the t-shirt, but the pants were beyond her capability.

She patted them uselessly before lying back on the mattress.

Outside, dry lightning flashed and warm wind howled in the night, threatening the rainstorm that didn't seem to want to come. She watched the lights dance behind her eyelids and listened to the wind, the ceiling fan, water in the bathroom sink.

The world was spinning out of control, even laying perfectly still on the bed. She was going to shatter into tiny pieces and blow away in a riotous storm if she couldn't hold it all together.

The lightning approached and thunder rolled in the night. Cool air blew through the curtained window, the heatwave finally beginning to relent.

Tears streamed down her face, and she sobbed.

Footsteps padded across the floor.

"Kim? Are you alright?"

She shivered.

"I'm gonna fall apart," she whispered, not daring to open her eyes.

He stepped closer.

"No, you aren't."

"Keep me from falling apart."

Thunder rolled and a shiver ran through her as he watched.

He hesitated just long enough to set aside his sense of propriety and expectation and decide on being their for his friend.

It was a narrow fit at the edge of the bed, especially when she moved into his body heat.

"Scoot over just a bit," he instructed, half lifting her in his arms to facilitate the redistribution of space. She grumbled in mild protestation, but quieted again when he carefully moved back into her field.

He gingerly wrapped an arm over her and felt her shivering subside.

Her body and mind responded positively to his touch, calming and relaxing as she prayed for sleep. And she could sense him sinking into unconsciousness beside her.

"Billy, do you want me?" she whispered into the space between them, her eyes fluttering to watch his face.

"You know it's not like that," he replied, barely stirring from his almost-slumber.

But she was silent, and her eyes fluttered shut just as swiftly as they'd opened. She inhaled the raw scent of him and tried to be still.

The first blessed raindrops pattered to the ground below the open window as he held his best friend close.

She curled into the planes of him and allowed herself to be comforted.

With his lips pressed into her hair, the clouds opened up and rained on the parched city.


A/N: I've been a Power Ranger fan since I was a kid, but it wasn't until I rewatched some of the originals a few years ago that I became intrigued by the dynamic between these two. I've written a couple shorts with this pairing over these last few years, but this is the first I'm choosing to post. Please feel free to comment/review with your thoughts. Thanks! -The PuffleHuff