Author's note: I own nothing. From a prompt by serpentine85. First of three fics.
Chapter One
He wakes each morning in a world where things are not as they're supposed to be. How it's different, he's not sure. He only knows that there used to be a balance, a rhythm, a flow. Now these people he knows, and yet does not know, tell him he must do things which bring violence and destruction, noise and confusion, when all he wants is to sit awhile and try to find something in this harshness that feels familiar.
Sometimes it's like he can't recognise himself; this warrior of darkness, who was born to destroy the world. Sometimes he has doubts, doubts he cannot take to Master Xandred, who gave him back his purpose and set him on his path when the rangers had all but destroyed him. Still, in the back of his mind he knows when he wakes each morning that things are not as they're supposed to be.
He goes upworld every day. It's necessary; if he doesn't go he becomes ill, weak and shaky. His Master tells him it's a curse placed on him by the Rangers to ensure he can never rest. Another sign of how much they hate him, that they chose his suffering over his death.
He doesn't always fight. Master Xandred has very particular plans, and he does not tolerate deviations.
He thinks part of the plan might be to induce paranoia in the Rangers. Whenever he goes to the city they turn up. They never attack first - 'They're trying to lure you to fight where they have the advantage,' Master Xandred tells him. 'Always fight on your terms!' – but they make sure he knows they're there, lurking in his eyeline. The tall one who wears blue tends to glare. The others mostly look sad. After a while the girls stop coming. He's not sure why they bother coming at all. He always uses moogers where he's attacking, after all.
Mostly he ignores the Rangers. He walks by the harbour or sits at an outdoor cafe and watches people pass by. It's surprisingly peaceful.
The only time the Rangers approach him, he's standing by a children's playground. He's not really watching them, mind drifting, but he can hear the cries and laughter. Laughter is in very short supply aboard Master Xandred's ship.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He turns his head to see the blue ranger glaring at him from less than a foot away. "Standing?" he suggests, because he known being flip will anger this one. "Looking? Breathing? Which one is bothering you today?"
The ranger snarls. "If you're planning on hurting those kids..."
"Hurting them?" He looks back at the children, baffled. Why would he attack children? They can't hurt him.
"Kevin." That's – he must be the gold ranger, because the other one's wearing green.
He's never quite been able to figure the gold ranger out. Highly skilled, if unorthodox, but he never uses those skills in their battles. He fights exactly hard enough to keep the fight going; he never goes for killing or even disabling shots, even when they're left open to him.
For a while the gold ranger had tried to claim the rangers were his friends, that they were trying to protect him and help him. He'd ignored it all, let it wash over him – 'They'll lie to you,' his master said, 'until you trust them, and then they'll betray you and rejoice in it' – until the day the ranger claimed Master Xandred had taken his memories and lied to him.
He broke his arm, two ribs, and damn near put his knee permanently out of joint before walking away, barely able to see past the red haze of fury. Only his Master's orders - "hurt them all you want, but don't kill them; I want them to know they are defeated" – saved the ranger's life.
Now the ranger takes a step forward, one hand out. "Kevin, he wasn't going to. Take a step back, all right?"
'Kevin' glowers but obeys. The gold ranger takes another step forward; probably unconsciously, he's turned to shield his side, where the ribs were broken. "I know you weren't thinking that," he says quietly. "But you're really freaking Kevin and Mike out, and I can't stop both of them. Can you – please – go somewhere else?"
He considers. It makes little difference to him where he goes, but it's clearly important to them. "Tell you what," he drawls, just to see if he can annoy the blue one again. "Stop following me around, and I'll stay away from children."
"No way!" Kevin bursts out, and – must be Mike – hastily shushes him.
The gold ranger's studying him. It's oddly disarming, as though he can see what he's thinking. "All right," he says finally. Kevin protests again and he says sharply, "It's not like Jayden hides –"
"Jarrell," he corrects him.
"What?"
"Jarrell. You know that."
The gold ranger flinches, looking away. "It's not like he hides his attacks," he says more quietly. "Why do you come up here, Jay – Jarrell?"
"Because you made sure I can't stay on the ship," he says sharply, turning to leave. That other name always makes him angry, and he has just promised not to fight near the children.
He ignores the broken "Wait!" coming from behind him.
The rangers stay away after that unless he's there to fight.
He doesn't always go to the city, though. Sometimes he goes up into the hills or out into the forest instead. He finds a temple in the hills with a large wooden gate; it draws him in, but the monks are wary of him and after a while the green ranger turns up, unmorphed, to watch him.
"What is this?" he asks, fingers skating over the wood without touching it. He's careful with his tone; the green ranger's not nearly as strong a fighter as the blue, but he's far more creative, and without the yellow one here there's little chance he can be distracted if he decides this is turning into a fight.
The ranger paces up beside him, staring at the gate. "This is where the Nighlok were defeated the first time."
"I see."
"Are you planning on attacking any time soon? Only I've got plans, so..."
"Do you see any Moogers around, Mike?"
"You know my name," he says, diverted.
"You know mine," he says mildly. "The gold ranger said yours the other day."
Disappointment flashes across Mike's face. "He did, didn't he...I don't see any Moogers."
"Then I guess I'm not attacking. I don't fight just to fight."
The words spark something and he gropes for the memory, but it's gone before he can grasp it. He's careful not to let it show on his face.
"Then why do you fight?"
"I fight when my master tells me to."
"He's not your master. You're not a Nighlok." Mike says this in the tone of one who's said the same thing many times before, and maybe he has; there are still more holes than actual memories in Jarrell's mind. All part of the curse, Master Xandred tells him.
"No," he agrees, "because you cursed me." Familiar anger is hovering, but he holds it off with an effort. Something about this place makes him reluctant to fight here.
"No. You're not a Nighlok, dude. You're human, you were born human."
His phone rings. Jarrell watches, expressionless, as he listens for a moment before looking up.
"One of your buddies is attacking. I have to go help the others. Do I have your word you're not going to attack here?"
"Would you take my word?"
"Take more'n Xandred to make you break your word once you'd given it."
He thinks for a moment. "I won't attack first."
"Good enough. Daisuke!" One of the monks appears and Mike tells him "Jay – Jarrell's given his word not to attack first. Keep your people away from him, everything's fine, ok?"
"Agreed," Daisuke says.
"I only wanted to look at the gate," he says quietly. "I have no ill will towards you or your people."
Daisuke nods. "Go, Mike. We will be fine." Mike goes, reluctantly. "Do you wish to hear the history of the gate, Jayden?"
"Jarrell." He fights off the anger accompanying that name. "No. I know the history, Daisuke."
He pronounces it the Japanese way, not the way Mike did. The flash of surprise from the old monk doesn't register with him until much later.
He doesn't go there again, and if his master knows he went there he doesn't mention it. He knows he's watched when he roams upworld; he can sense the gaps, and Nighlok don't really understand subtlety. He was questioned for two days after the meeting by the playground, released only when it was clear he was too ill to continue and left to Octoroo's tender mercies. He's never quite understood the questions; Master Xandred knows he's loyal, and the questions were about the words used by the rangers. There was no hint of censure for talking to the rangers in the first place.
The forest becomes his new haunt. Quiet and deep, he can easily hear others coming in plenty of time to avoid being seen. If the rangers know he's there, they don't come after him.
They don't have much time. Master Xandred is stepping up his plans. There's an attack almost every day now. He fights when he's told to, provides tactical insight when asked, and otherwise stays as far away from them as possible. Though he never refuses, of course, there's something about terrorizing civilians that sits badly with him, no matter how often his master explains it.
"What are you doing here?"
He startles, rising to his feet. The newcomer eyes him. "Shouldn't you be in the city with the others?"
Nighlok, his senses say, and a moment later, human. The dissonance makes him dizzy and he reaches unobtrusively for the nearest tree. "Who are you?" he asks carefully.
The man eyes him again, more sharply. "Who are you?"
"Jarrell."
"Jarrell's a Nighlok warrior." He raises his chin defiantly and the man laughs softly. "That explains a few things."
"What things?"
"I'm surprised Master Xandred lets you wander around loose."
"My master trusts me."
"Hmm."
A gap flares and Octoroo appears. The man smiles grimly. "Never mind. Here comes your handler now."
"Ooh ah ooh. What are you doing here, Deker?"
The man – Deker – sketches a mocking bow. "I'm searching for the ultimate duel." His gaze flicks to Jarrell, who doesn't react.
"You won't find it here."
"No," Deker agrees. "I thought the red ranger would be my opponent."
"Red ranger?" he says involuntarily.
"Go back to the ship," Octoroo tells him. He obeys, glancing once more at Deker before stepping through the nearest gap.
It leaves him feeling sick, as always. Octoroo finds him kneeling by the shore, trying to calm his stomach. "Ooh ah ooh," he sighs. "Let's get you on board."
"Who is Deker?"
"If you see him again, walk away," Octoroo orders, and he bows his head obediently. Orders from Master Xandred's court are as orders coming from the master himself. "Don't speak to him or listen to him. Now come along."
The sight of Master Xandred, as always, soothes him, calming his thoughts and easing his dizziness. Dayu ignores him, but that's not new and he's not surprised. She hasn't yet spoken directly to him. At least Octoroo isn't cruel, just business-like.
He finds a corner of the room, sits seiza, and gazes at his master.