Gaby, Patrick, Scott, Jimmy Duran, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Violet is... ?
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; sexual content.
This is a sequel to 'Unreal Life'. Don't even think of reading this if you haven't read that first, you'll be seriously lost. Part of my 'Year of Time' series of slightly AU Time Force stories. In my version, the future Rangers are from 200 years in the future.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
"How did this work..." Wes squinted at the machine in front of him, frowned, and tried to remember. Why hadn't he paid more attention? Because he had never expected to have to work the damn thing by himself. He frowned. There was no help available. None of the Bio-Lab scientists even knew what was in this small room in his father's house, a room that was always kept locked.
It looked like a picture frame, antennae rising from the top. And it was meant to show a picture. A picture from the future. It was a chrono-communicator, the one Time Force had left for Jen to use in an extreme emergency, if she absolutely needed to contact her native time. And now... if anything qualified as an emergency, this did. He needed help. If he could only get it working...
Another adjustment, another vague memory of what the unfamiliar controls were for. He flipped the switch that should turn it on. To his surprise, the area within the frame lit, a three-dimensional image forming, blurred at first, then sharpening into a very welcome sight.
"Trip!" he exclaimed.
A young Asian man with bright green hair stared back at him. It was almost like looking through a window, his old friend and teammate on the other side, as if he were in the next room instead of two hundred years away.
"Wes!" Trip said, a startled look on his face. "I wasn't expecting... How are you?" He grinned, his face alight with all the eager enthusiasm Wes remembered.
Wes smiled too, swallowing back the lump that rose in his throat. "It's good to see you, Trip."
"Yeah, you too." The young man's expression became more serious. "But you know you're not supposed to contact us except for an emergency."
"I know. But this -- this is an emergency. The worst."
"Wes... I think I know what you're going to say."
"You know?" Wes sat back. "Of course you know. It's all history to you." He leaned forward again. "You've got to help us. Tell me where she is. If..." He swallowed again. "If she's alive."
"Wes, I can't tell you anything. You know that. You can't have knowledge of your future..."
"Trip, this is Jen we're talking about! Your teammate! A Time Force officer!" And the woman I love, he almost added, but stopped himself. "You have to help me find her!"
"Wes, I can't."
The words came out in a rush, in the effort to make him understand... "She was caught in an explosion. Norman Ryder, he mutated himself, you probably know about him, too. He kidnapped us, drugged us, I got out but he still had Jen, he blew up his laboratory in an old silver mine -- we've been searching for a month now, can't find any bodies -- I have to know, don't you understand? Is she alive? Can't you at least tell me that?"
"Wes, please, don't ask these questions..."
"Damn it! I thought we were friends! I thought you'd have some loyalty!"
"I do have loyalty. I'm sorry, Wes. We can't interfere. I shouldn't be talking to you now. We can't have any contact with your time unless history is being tampered with."
Wes planted his clenched fists on the table in front of Trip's image. "But it is being tampered with! Norman was working on a time machine! With technology from your time! He could have used it to escape, and taken Jen with him. That's what happened, isn't it? At least tell me that!"
"Wes..." Trip sighed. "Look, all I can tell you is that time travel was not involved."
Wes stared at him in shock. "You mean -- Norman didn't use a timehole to escape? With Jen?"
"No, he didn't." Trip glanced around, taking a deep breath, seeming to be struggling with himself. "Whatever he used, it didn't transport them through time."
"But... he used something? Did they escape?"
"I'm sorry. I truly am. But I can't tell you. You and Eric have to handle this on your own."
"Can't you do something? Anything? It was your technology that started this whole thing! Norman wouldn't have been able to mutate himself without your treatments! And your serum! He wouldn't have been able to make himself smart enough to invent the weapons he's used..."
"The timestream has already absorbed that change. Everything that's happened was meant to happen."
"Including Jen's death? I can't believe you won't help! You don't care!"
"I'm sorry, but I can't. It's against all the rules."
"Fuck the rules! I can't believe you can be so heartless!" Wes felt a small stab of guilt at the pain he saw in Trip's face, but it was nothing compared to the agony in his own heart. He reached for the controls, trying to find the 'off' switch through his tears.
"Wes, wait!"
He stopped, reluctantly looking at the image of Trip's unhappy face again.
"Wes -- don't give up. There's hope."
"What do you mean?"
"That's all I can say, Wes!" Trip's face twisted. "Shouldn't have said that much. Just -- remember what Jen used to tell us. Never give up."
"Never give up." Wes sat, eyes cast down, struggling to control himself, at least long enough to do what he knew he had to do. Finally he looked up again. "Thank you, Trip. And -- I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I understand."
"You're a good friend..." He stopped, unable to speak as his throat closed with emotion.
Trip smiled. "I know. Goodbye, Wes. Good luck."
"Goodbye," Wes whispered. He reached a trembling hand to turn the machine off. Then he sat, still staring at it.
Hope. What good did it do, when he didn't have a clue as to where Jen might be, or what was happening to her, or even if she was alive? But she must be alive, she must be, or Trip wouldn't have said what he said. Norman must have built some kind of transporter, like Ransik's mutants had used, Trip had told him once they were based on the same technology as the timeholes. No time travel, but they must have escaped. He had to tell Eric, get his help...
The two of them had to handle it on their own. Wes sat up a little straighter. Whatever it took, they'd do it. He couldn't let Jen down. It was time to stop sitting around the house feeling sorry for himself. He'd spent all his time for the last month either at home, sitting around aimlessly, or at the old silver mine where it had happened, trying to help with the search and probably just getting in the way.
Eric had had to take over at Bio-Lab, had to take on a double burden, when he had so much already to deal with. Wes knew he was also hurting from Jen's apparent death. And worried about his own girlfriend, who might be in danger if Norman was still alive. And there was -- the other thing...
They had seen each other at the mine, and occasionally at the house, they had spoken like friends and partners, worked side by side helping in the search. Eric had been sympathetic and understanding, unusually so for him. There was nothing specific Wes could point to in his behavior, just a subtle distance. He knew he could count on Eric to do whatever he could to help find Jen, still would trust him with his life without hesitation. But he knew. Eric no longer considered them to be friends.
"Hey. Going to be ready to go home soon?"
Gaby looked up from her desk and smiled at Steve Miller, standing in her office doorway. "Yeah, anytime. Are my guard dogs ready?"
He chuckled. "Come on, it's not that bad. You should feel like a celebrity, with your very own bodyguard."
"Yeah, the bad part of being a celebrity." She sighed. "No sign of Norman Ryder for a month. He's probably dead. But Eric still insists on protecting me from him."
"He's very careful, when it comes to you."
She smiled at that. "I'd rather have him guard me himself. Isn't he going home yet?"
"Still in his office."
"Jesus. He works so much now. We hardly seem to spend time together, even though he's living in my apartment. I'm usually asleep by the time he gets home..." She blinked, trying not to show her unhappiness.
"With Wes not coming in to work, it's hard on him. It's not that he doesn't want to be with you."
"Sometimes I don't know." She stared down at her desk for a moment, hoping her thoughts didn't show. Eric had lived alone for years, had told her he liked it. She knew for herself how nice it could be, not having to answer to anyone, at least at home. He must miss it, the way he worked so hard, seemed to take every opportunity lately to avoid spending time with her.
And it's more than Wes not being here," Steve added gently. "I think he blames himself for Jen. Doesn't want to rest until he finds out what happened to her."
Gaby smiled again, with a touch of sadness. "Maybe. Well, whenever your guys are ready."
"Listen..." He straightened. "Maybe I can get him to leave a little early. Hang out, and I'll talk to him."
She brightened. "Would you? You're a sweetheart, Steve."
"That's what I tell everyone. See you later."
It was late, he was tired. Eric sighed, trying to concentrate on his paperwork, trying to keep his mind working and his eyes open. He opened another file folder, and stared at the contents unseeingly. Too much, he thought. Too much work, with Wes gone... The thought brought a momentary frown, before he began to drift again. But drifting was no good. Had to keep going. Keep working, keep looking.
Until they knew for sure about Jen, until they found either her or some proof she was gone, any relaxation seemed like a pointless and guilty waste of time. He owed it to her. Hadn't been able to save her, hadn't been there when she and Wes were attacked. He had let her down... Wes might not be his friend anymore, had never really been his friend, but he deserved to know what had happened to the woman he loved.
So tired... He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing them. Wasn't getting anything done anyway. A full night in bed, maybe with a chance to spend a little quality awake time with Gaby, would be so nice...
"Geez, Eric, you're falling asleep."
He looked up at the voice. Steve Miller walked in, and picked up the case file he had been looking at.
"The Evans case. I could handle this."
"Do you have time?"
"Sure." He gave Eric a considering look. "You look beat. Why don't you go home on time for once?"
"I've still got paperwork…"
"It could wait." He paused before adding, "Gaby'll be leaving soon. She'd like you to go with her."
"Would she?"
"Sure. According to her, you're never home, except to sleep. She misses you. Besides, if you're with her, she won't need an escort. If they can go home tonight, I can use them in the morning on Evans."
Eric smiled. "Good argument. You're right, I can't even see straight anymore." He stood up. "I think I'll take your advice. Catch Gaby before she leaves."
"Good. See you tomorrow."
"See ya."
A few minutes later, his office door locked behind him, he was on his way, walking through the familiar hallways of Bio-Lab. Two years, he thought, a little more, actually. Over two years of working here, walking these same hallways. Long enough to settle in, to feel at home, to get a feeling of permanency, of belonging. To almost get over the lingering fear that this would be taken away from him, like so many other things had been. Now that fear was back, logical or not, ironically because of Wes, the same person who had been largely responsible for making him feel secure here in the first place.
He watched her, as they moved around the apartment, cleaning up after dinner. Gaby caught him looking and smiled. "What?" she asked.
Eric shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe just that it's been a while since we had a chance to spend some time together."
"Yeah." Her glance seemed to contain something he couldn't quite read. "You spend so much time working, I've almost forgotten what you look like awake."
"I'd like to be here more, but with Wes still out..."
"I know," she said quickly. "You have to do double work." Again her eyes seemed to hide something. "But I'm glad you're here now. We have to talk."
"Uh-oh," he said, smiling, but his heart lurching slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Sit down." She curled up on the couch and patted the space next to her. When he was seated she went on. "It's my bodyguards."
Since Norman had kidnapped her from the Bio-Lab parking lot, claiming to be in love with her, Eric had kept Gaby protected. When he couldn't be with her himself, a pair of Silver Guardians kept watch on her. He knew immediately what she wanted, he knew she didn't like the situation.
"Norman may have died in that explosion in the silver mine. There's been no sign of him for a month. I don't think it's necessary to keep me under guard anymore. It's a drain on the Guardians, it's costing Bio-Lab money, and I don't like it."
"We have no proof Norman's dead," he protested.
"We may never have proof. And I can't live like this forever. You'll have to discontinue the guard sometime. Why not now?"
He hesitated. She was right, logically, but some part of him didn't like it, hated the idea, in fact. "Give it another month," he said.
"Eric, I really hate this. And it doesn't make any sense."
"I just don't want to take the chance," he said stubbornly.
"Please?" She watched him. "You're still here every night. That's sort of keeping guard on me, until you move back into your house in a few more weeks."
"I..." He cut himself off, a pang making him realize what was really bothering him about this. Accepting that Norman was gone meant accepting that Jen was gone too, something he wasn't prepared to do. And that wasn't the only thing.
His house had been damaged when Norman had set it on fire, but the repairs would be finished in another month or so. Then he would move back in, and Gaby would stay here, in her own apartment.
At first he hadn't liked the idea of being together so much, when he had started spending every night with her, as a self-appointed bodyguard. But it had worked out, he had come to like it, more than he thought possible. And now, it would soon be over; after his house was livable again and the guard on Gaby was dropped, he would have no more excuse to be with her so much. None unless he told her he wanted it to go on, unless he asked her to live with him permanently. But how, when he could hardly admit it to himself?
Still, his reluctance to give up hope for Jen and his desire to have a reason to stay with Gaby were hardly a reasonable justification for tying up the Guardians' time, not to mention making Gaby unhappy. He forced a smile. "I suppose you're right. I'll drop the guard. When I move out, everything'll be back to normal."
"Great!" She grinned, and leaned forward to slide her arms around his neck and kiss him.
Did she have to be so happy? "I guess I should thank you for letting me live here," he said, a little grumpily. "I know it was a sacrifice."
"Not really a sacrifice..." she murmured. "The least I could do, after your house got trashed because of me."
"That wasn't your fault."
"Besides, it's been fun having you around... Although I wish you'd be here more than just to sleep..."
"I'm here now, aren't I?"
"You sure are. I think we should take advantage, don't you?" She nuzzled against the side of his neck, kissing him under the ear.
He turned his head to kiss her, pleasantly surprised by her passion, despite his continued discomfort at their conversation, as her tongue darted in to skim his mouth and her hands began to pluck at the buttons of his shirt, then reached lower. "Hey!" he exclaimed, chuckling. "Moving pretty fast, aren't you?"
"Just trying to keep you awake."
"Don't worry, I'm up..." He turned, pulled her against him, and slid his hands under her sweater.
"Violet. You know you shouldn't be out here."
She twisted on her seat on the front porch and peered up. The person who had spoken was standing over her, his face with its brown hair and eyes shadowed but familiar. She smiled. "I'm sorry. But it's dark. No one can see me. And it's such a nice night."
"You could enjoy it behind the house."
She turned back to her view, the overgrown fields of the farm where they lived, the highway beyond, occasional cars zipping by. "I wanted to be here... see the cars going by...."
He smiled. "What's so special about cars?"
"They're going places. Seeing things. I wish I was in one of them." She tilted her head back to look up at him again. "I'm supposed to be learning, after all. Exploring."
"Only where we tell you to explore."
Violet frowned at him. "Why am I not supposed to go out front? Why can't I leave the farm?" She waved an arm to include their surroundings. "It's nice here, but... I've heard you talking about the city. A city, full of people..." She smiled, the longing she felt sounding in her voice. "I want to go there. See it. Be with other people."
His voice was neutral. "The city can be amusing."
She jumped up, smiling happily. "Then why don't we go? We can all go. Just for an hour or two."
"I'm afraid we would attract attention." He smiled. "Maybe some day." She smiled wider, watching him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, sounding amused.
"Please, please let me go... Don't you trust me to behave myself?"
A shadow crossed his face, an expression she almost identified as guilt. But that was ridiculous. He and his brother had been so good to her, taking care of her, teaching her everything she knew, patiently answering her questions... well, most of them.
"It's not a question of trust." He reached out a hand. She put her own hand in it, not even noticing its coldness. "Come on, it's late. We should go back in," he said gently.
"I don't understand. Why can't I go wherever I want?"
He was silent for a few moments as they started back. "It's because of where you came from," he finally said, his voice low, his face completely expressionless. "How you were -- created..." There was a pause.
"I still don't understand. What does that have to do with anything?"
"There would be complications. We're not ready to deal with them yet." He seemed to hesitate again. "But someday, I'll take you wherever you want."
"Really? You think so?"
"Of course. As soon as you know a little more. As soon as we-" He hesitated again, that look, almost of guilt, on his face. "-as soon as all of us are ready."
"Oh, I can't wait! The city... Silver Hills? Is that the name of it?"
"Yes." His face turned towards her, his eyes watchful. "Does it sound familiar?"
"Silver Hills... I don't know." She walked quietly into the house at his side. Silver Hills. It seemed to mean something. For a moment a ghost stirred inside her, the same thing she felt now and then, when she saw a name in a book or magazine, saw a picture, and somehow sensed she had seen it before... As if she remembered things, things that had happened before her creation, before her 'birth'.
Of course that was impossible. She had the body of a grown woman, the knowledge, too, built into her mind, but she was only a month old. She had never seen anything before she had waked up, here. She had no past, nothing to remember. Only a future.
TBC...