Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers, Dillon or the Fury.
A/N: This is a Summer's Boys 'verse one-shot. There are no relationships involved.
He was free. It was his first memory. He found himself standing on a cliff, staring out at a wasteland. He wore a white gown.
"You're going to freeze to death, kid."
He turned so fast, he almost lost his balance, only to find a man standing behind him. "Do I know you?" He asked the man.
"Nope," the man replied, "name's Dillon, what's yours?"
"I don't know," he said, feeling some inner helplessness rise up.
"Now that's a sad thing," Dillon told him, "saw them Grinders chuck you out, figured you might need some help." He bent over and pulled some clothes from behind a nearby bush. "Put those on, kid. You can come along with me 'til you get your head working. Be nice to have some company. I mean, the Fury's the love of my life, but she doesn't talk back."
The Fury was the man's car, a black, 12 hundred horse power beast that he fell in love with instantly.
For two months, they traveled together, while Dillon taught him how to live in the "new world". When they learned about the Venjix hardware, Dillon was the only one who stayed with him.
The Grinders ambushed them two miles from a working filling station. Dillon died from his wounds, leaving him to make his own way with a car and two pieces of advice.
Four months later, he obeyed the first of Dillon's dying commands, to pay forward what had been done for him. It felt right to give the only name he knew as his own, even if it hadn't been his first.