A/N: Frickin' angst in my system. Read too many of these, so of course, I had to add another one. 'S my take on the whole child abuse thing when it comes to DT. Got tired of melodramatics and crying and screaming and all, because that's not how all abused kids react, though I wish it was; if it was, they wouldn't be able to hide it so damnably well. Oneshot, unless I feel like continuing.
Perdu
Conner had dozed off in class again. Dr. Oliver frowned – it had been the third time that week, and while the teen was no star student, his disregard for much of schooling certainly didn't extend that far. Rather than calling Conner out, however, Tommy let him sleep until the class ended, worry setting in as the loud ringing failed to rouse his student.
"Conner, wake up." He strode over to the boy, giving him a light prod on the arm; Conner didn't wake, but winced in his sleep, a light whimper escaping his throat. The teacher's frown deepened. He lifted the sleeve of the red t-shirt, finding it to conceal a large contusion the color of decaying pond weed so striking that elicited a sympathetic twinge in his own arm. He thought for a moment, then strode to his desk and filled out a note to Conner's next teacher, excusing the teen from his last class of the day. Tommy wasn't about to let such a nasty bruise go by unaccounted for, even knowing that Conner, like most young men, saw admitting pain as a sign of weakness; if it resulted from Rangerhood, the Red Dino Ranger had to at least inform his mentor.
As it was, his lone student for the planning period did not wake until after school let out – Tommy was perfectly willing to drive him to his house, where the Rangers had agreed on meeting that afternoon anyway, and fittingly enough, on keeping their secret under wraps. After the initial wide-eyed shock, Conner quietly and uncharacteristically consented to everything without a fuss; Tommy thought he saw a look of utter dismay fleetingly flash on the former's face, but it evanesced so quickly that the teacher figured he might just be seeing things.
Indeed, Conner seemed much his normal self during the car ride, ignorant remarks and sarcasm loudly filling the time. The mentor felt a lingering unease, however – he couldn't have just imagined that expression. Finally, a lull came in the then one-sided conversation as they made their way down into the Command Center, still vacant of the other Rangers.
"Conner, when did you get that bruise?" Tommy inquired, lightly touching the sore area on the teen's arm.
"Oh, that? During our last fight. It's not a big deal." Conner shrugged nonchalantly despite flinching at the contact.
"Don't be too egotistical to admit pain – it looks nasty," Tommy reprimanded, grasping the fabric and lifting it, grip tightening as Conner attempted to pull away.
"Maybe, but it's not anything major – we get them all the time," he protested, using his other hand to smooth the sleeve down.
"Are you hiding something, Conner?" Eyes narrowing with suspicion and concern, he swiftly and unexpectedly stepped behind the teen and yanked the sleeve upward, gasping at what he saw. Small, round burn marks, dotted as though sprayed on by an airbrush with a thick paint, brick brown in color and just as blotchy.
Conner muttered a curse, exhaling. "I guess I can't explain that one, can I?"
"Yes, you can. Who did this, Conner?" asked Tommy, voice laden with worry. The question was not the spoken who, but rather, the unspoken why. Conner stood wordless as he was motionless, not responding as he cast his eyes to the ground. "Who did this?" the teacher repeated, more authoritatively, gripping his student's shoulders so hard that his knuckles went white, then releasing his hold with a guilty look as he saw the lines of pain on Conner's face.
"My dad," Conner murmured after an eternally long pause. His voice, barely above a whisper, proved more unsettling than his words, and his succeeding, wry smirk yet more chilling, "I'm not so soccer-focused for no reason." At this, Tommy recalled Conner's threat to resign his Ranger status; he'd found the catalyst – not making the soccer tryouts – vapid to the point of fishiness then, but now part of him wished he couldn't guess the true, all too sensible reason.
"Shit, Conner... What's he been doing to you? How long?" he questioned, voice low with concern for his student and seething with rage at Conner's father for inflicting such torment on a boy that couldn't possibly have deserved any bit of it. His hand balled into fists, nails digging into his palms.
"What you see, to get me to practice more – and for some time now," Conner replied evasively, shrugging again. Cold realization dawned on Tommy; Conner's sleepiness in class must have stemmed from over-exhaustion, from staying up too long to drill soccer techniques. He swore under his breath – he hadn't met Mr. McKnight, but the man had already more than earned his hatred.
"And you haven't told anyone?"
"No." The laconic, easy answer told of just how long the student athlete had been subjected to the treatment, and Tommy swore again. He paced, then picked up the phone, asking Conner for his father's work number.
"Don't call him," came the answer, soft but firm. Conner strode over and wrestled the phone from his startled teacher's hand, adding with a pleading tone, "Please."
"W-why not?" Tommy sputtered, not understanding. Conner merely sighed resignedly.
"I'm in my Senior year, Dr. O. I graduate in the spring, and after that, I'm gone. The last thing I need is to be shuffled through the legal system or put into state custody or some other mess now. Not when I'm already so close to having gotten through it all." He met Tommy's eyes with a weary gaze that no teenager should have in a righteous world. "So please, not a word of this to anyone. I've thought it over for a long time now."
Just as Tommy was about to reply, the other two Dino Rangers reached their rendezvous point in the Command Center. Conner gave their teacher a meaningful look, then strode over, joining Ethan the latter's non-malicious sexist teasing of a very irked Kira. Dr. Oliver watched silently, arms folded, and for once in his mentorship of the Dino Rangers, he didn't know what to do or say. The sight of Conner joking around as easily as ever made him question his mind; had the surreal conversation between him and Conner even taken place? Conner was not withdrawn, not outwardly depressed, not waif thin and lanky and dressed in baggy black clothing – he didn't show any of the stereotypical signs of abuse, save for the only telling one. Had he just imagined the bruises and burns? Tommy brought a hand to his head, massaging his temples, guiltily wishing he'd never discovered them.
"Dr. O! Please start the lecture before these two little boys drive me insane!" Kira called, jarring Tommy out of his thoughts. Conner's beseeching eyes found his, and he knew definitively at that moment that the uncovering of the former's secret had happened. There was no need for the plea; a teacher would not betray a student's request for confidentiality to other students, but it left Tommy with an uneasiness that seeped into Ethan and Kira, who figured that Conner's seeming insensitivity was a result of dullness on his part. When talking about how to cover up and explain away bruises and other wounds resulting from fighting as Rangers, his made a point to avoid looking in Conner's direction; he couldn't have gone on at the sight of the Red Dino Ranger, who had already had too much experience in the matter. At the end of his lecture, the teens began to walk out, deciding to go to the Cyberspace Café before heading home.
"Conner, stay here for a moment." Conner stopped, apparently mulling over just ignoring it and leaving before consenting and telling the others to go ahead to the cars, and not to leave him because he needed a ride. Teacher and student were wordless until the sound of the front door shutting.
"Conner, you can't–"
"Yes, I can," Conner intoned levelly, "I've kept quiet for a while now, and with your help, I'll keep quiet for a while yet."
"Goddammit, Conner! This isn't something to keep to yourself!" The mentor, rather than the student as it should be, lost his cool, slamming his hand onto the nearby counter.
"I know, but it's almost over anyway. Why make a big deal out of it now?"
"If you think I'm going to stay silent after this–"
"You're going to," Conner stated coolly, "Because I'm the Red Ranger of our little bunch, and you can't afford losing me, no matter what you said earlier when I tried to back out." And Tommy knew the teen was right, felt a rush of hatred for it, the guilty feeling of wishing he hadn't gotten entangled in it all returning unbidden. In the stillness, they heard the door open.
"Uh, Dr. O, are you done talking to Conner yet?" Ethan called. Before Tommy could respond, Conner called back, "Yeah, I'll be up in a moment!" The red-clad boy faced his teacher, locking eyes. A faint, weak smile hovered on his face. "Thanks, Dr. Oliver, for at least noticing. That means a lot." With that, he rushed out, leaving Tommy wordless, motionless in the empty room as the sound of cars pulling out of the driveway reached him.