A/N: I wrote this story on days when I didn't feel like working on my novel, meaning that I wanted to write, but was in no condition to produce anything especially good. This story IS complete, but hasn't been fully uploaded. As per usual, I will be uploading a chapter per day as a rule, trying to give notice if anything is out of the ordinary. This was written for my entertainment, and is being published for yours. If you find yourself not enjoying it, then you should feel perfectly free to stop reading. Heap praise or criticism upon it, whichever may suit you best. Or say nothing about it at all, if you would prefer.

This story is set prior to the episode "Perspective". Non-slash, non-pairing. Probably AU (it had been a long time since I watched Power Ranger: SPD when I wrote this).

Updated to correct spelling and punctuation.


Bridge woke up with a headache. That wasn't especially uncommon for him. Usually it was gone by the time he ate breakfast. He didn't tend to think much about his morning migraines, taking them as a matter of course. He'd always had them, and it didn't occur to him that not everybody did. This notion that it was normal had been cemented by sharing a room with Sky, who seemed to find mornings to be a painful experience. Morning was the only time Sky didn't have his wall up.

Not the energy one that protected him from physical harm. But the emotional wall he put up to defend himself from the unkind world around him. First thing in the morning, for just a few minutes, Sky was vulnerable. Bridge understood that. Nobody could be strong all the time. For Sky, it was that time between rolling out of bed and getting into uniform.

Sky was already up, Bridge must have slept in. They'd been up late the night before, fending off another onslaught of Grumm's troops. Sky, best Bridge could tell, was immune to sleep deprivation. The rest of the team was probably still struggling their way to consciousness, hitting the snooze button on their alarm clocks as many times as they could get away with.

Bridge didn't feel like getting up. He seriously considered just rolling over and going back to sleep. The battle last night had been embarrassing. And painful. Well, more so than usual. Just when he'd convinced himself that more sleep was the winning strategy, his alarm went off. Was it for the first time? Or had he hit snooze a few times?

He reached over and grabbed the clock. Hitting the snooze button also turned on a light in the clock so he could see the time.

"That's funny," he whispered to himself, "It's four in the morning."

His alarm was set for six thirty.

He looked over at Sky's bunk. It was occupied by Sky, as one would expect this early.

"Did I just dream it was morning and wake myself up?" Bridge wondered.

He put the clock down and started to roll over. One thing he hadn't dreamed was his headache. That was still very much with him. Maybe more sleep would help. But no matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn't get back to sleep. Except he apparently did, because the next thing he knew, his alarm was going off. For real this time.

And Sky was up. Also for real this time. His uniform was gone from its hanger, and the bed was neatly made. Bridge always wondered how Sky managed to be so quiet. And how he got up without an alarm. It was a mystery which would probably never be solved. Bridge had accepted that some time ago.

Bridge set his clock down and picked up the gloves he left on the nightstand. They were the gloves he wore all day. Every day. But they weren't exactly comfortable, so at night he switched them for something softer, but less practical to use during the day.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. This wouldn't do anything to help his headache. He quickly pulled off one mitten, then the other. It was fully impossible to put a glove on while wearing something distantly related to an oven mitt. For just a moment, he was half-blinded by flashes of information about everything around him. He had to struggle with his objective, putting the gloves on. It was hard enough to focus first thing in the morning without the added "assistance" of his powers.

Gloves on, he sort of fell out of bed and crawled over to his uniform. He put it on in an automatic fashion, long habit doing the thinking for him. That accomplished, he headed out into the hallway, hoping not to meet anyone before he made it to the fridge and a much needed glass of orange juice. Or possibly some toast. Yes, toast would be good right now. Especially with butter. Butter was good.

He took another deep breath, squared his shoulders, and set off down the hall.

His SPD training allowed him to look alert even though he was still half-asleep. Bluffing was half the battle sometimes. Feigning confidence when you didn't have any. Pretending you knew what you were doing when you really hadn't a clue. Never show the enemy your weakness, because they will exploit it. The ability to do that began with training, which included looking calm and collected at all times, even first thing in the morning.

He found Sky already in the kitchen area, eating his own breakfast with the sort of mechanical precision that comes only with intense practice. And from not really being awake yet. Sky was running on autopilot too this morning.

"Morning, guys!" Bridge flinched inwardly at the unwonted enthusiasm cutting into his morning fog.

Boom was the truest morning person who had ever existed. He made all other morning people look like they were still asleep. He also seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that nobody on the SPD B-Squad shared his absolute love of those first few minutes of the day.

"Hi, Boom," Bridge managed to smile and look happy to see him.

Sky just sort of glared over his shoulder at Boom, then looked at Bridge. Bridge was so good at selling the "good morning" attitude that even Sky didn't realize he was faking it. Then again, Sky wasn't the sort of person who understood pretense. He was who he was, and the only pretending he did was that which he'd been taught by SPD. And it was doubtful that he understood that. Sky just went by the book, followed orders and got the job done. He didn't have to understand what he was being asked to do or why.

Lucky guy.

"What happened yesterday?" Boom asked, taking a seat next to Sky, who immediately leaned away.

It wasn't that he didn't like Boom. It was because, in the morning, Boom failed to use his "inside voice." The last thing a non-morning person wants to hear in the morning is an "outside voice."

"I hear it didn't go so well," Boom went on, oblivious, "Is everybody okay?"

"We're fine," Sky growled as Bridge answered with, "We won the fight. Technically. Nobody was seriously hurt. Or not lethally injured anyway. It was really just Jack."

"Jack? What happened to him?" Boom asked.

Sky turned his glare from Boom to Bridge. His answer had been tailored specifically to avoid further questioning, in the hopes that Boom would simply go away. But Bridge just had to bring that up.

"He's fine," Sky replied before Bridge could answer, "He just broke his arm, that's all."

"That's all!? That's all!?" Boom exclaimed, causing even Bridge to flinch.

His headache was persisting, and the rising volume of Boom's voice wasn't helping. With forefinger and thumb, he pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that might somehow relieve the pressure in his head. But it didn't, so he drank some orange juice to avoid having to talk.

"He can't go into the field with a broken arm," Boom went on.

"We know that," Sky growled patiently, "It's fine. We can handle it."

"Without Red Ranger?" Boom asked, "I mean, no offense, you guys are awesome but... without Red Ranger?"

"Please stop talking," Sky said, his voice calm but with an edge to it.

That edge suggested that he was currently actively imagining bashing Boom's head through a wall and also having trouble finding any fault with that vision except perhaps the considerable noise it would make.

"Just four of you?" Boom failed to take the hint, "Without Jack?"

"Boom," Bridge cut in, "Don't you have something you should be doing? Like... not talking to Sky in the morning?"

Boom stopped speaking mid-sentence, and blinked thoughtfully. As though suddenly aware of the danger, he quietly got up and left the room, making whispered excuses as to why he was leaving.

"He's right, you know," Sky said after about ten minutes, having eaten all of his breakfast in that time.

"Yeah..." Bridge replied absently, then added, "About what?"

"Four B-Squad cadets, against the whole of Grumm's army. It'll be weeks, at least, before Jack's ready for a real fight again," Sky answered.

"Oh that," Bridge shrugged "I wouldn't worry. We've already accomplished the impossible. Or what was said to be impossible. Or at least highly improbable. Or anyway-"

"I get it, Bridge. You can stop."

"Right. Anyway. What I meant was... we've gotten this far. Who's to say how far we can go? Besides, it's not like we have a choice. I mean, unless we just let Grumm take over, abandoned our posts and... you know what... I'm gonna stop talking and... go away... now."

"You do that," Sky grunted.

Bridge's next stop was to visit Jack, who'd stayed in the hospital section of the base overnight, due to the nature of his injury. His arm had been broken when a Krybot hit him with a motorcycle, so it was possible that he'd sustained some sort of internal injuries in addition to the obvious. At the very least, he'd been knocked to the pavement and might have gotten more than a bruise on his head, even though that was all which could be seen.

It didn't surprise Bridge that Jack was already awake. Even taken off active duty, a Ranger was still a Ranger. Or something to that effect, anyway.

"You look... disturbed," Jack observed "What's up?"

"Hmm? Oh nothing. I mean, nothing you can help with. Or that should concern you. Or me, really. What I mean is-"

"Save it," Jack interrupted, "What's the matter?"

"It's stupid," Bridge protested "Besides, I came in here to see how you are. And you look... like you have a broken arm, actually. But aside from that, you seem... fine."

"I am. And I still have a good arm I can hit you with if you don't tell me what's on your mind."

The threat wasn't serious, but the implication was. Jack wasn't going to let Bridge off easy. This was mainly because he had learned, the hard way, that anything which concerned Bridge should not be ignored or taken lightly. Underneath that confused exterior was a brain which worked faster and perhaps better than any other Jack had encountered.

"It's just... something Boom said this morning. Or... well, actually I thought of it last night, but it was said..." here he broke off, collecting his thoughts, "Is it... alright that the team will work without you? That's not what I meant. What I meant was, is it... okay? Can we do that?"

"I'm not sure what you're asking. Is it alright with me? Yes, of course. It's not like B-Squad can be benched until I'm ready to get back in it."

"No, that's not... never mind," Bridge interrupting himself was more than a little unusual.

"You want to know if B-Squad will be alright without Red Ranger," Jack guessed, "you did fine before I arrived, and you've still got Z. And, anyway, it's you, Sky and Syd who have all the training. What do you think?"

Bridge opened his mouth to answer, but never said anything. Cruger's voice came over the wall-speaker, calling the SPD B-Squad, including Jack, to the command center.

Bridge waited for Jack to get into uniform and then the two went directly to the command center. Neither spoke, uncomfortably aware that something was up. And that Jack wasn't going to be with them on this one, whatever it was. All of them, even Sky (though he wouldn't admit it), had come to trust their leader and the idea of going into battle without him made them uneasy.

In addition to Kat and Cruger, there was one other person in the command center. Bridge halted in the doorway, preventing the door from automatically sliding closed. He recognized this person, a person he'd hoped- even believed -he would never see again.

"SPD B-Squad, for those of you who haven't met him, this is Callum Reese," Cruger said, with an eye directed at the thoroughly unsettled Bridge, "SPD's Black Ranger. In light of recent events, Commander Birdy thought the B-Squad could benefit from his services."

"New ranger. Sweet," Z commented.

"No," Bridge whispered in reply, but wasn't permitted to elaborate because Cruger did it for him.

"Callum Reese will be in charge of B-Squad during Cadet Landors' recovery."

The silence that followed was momentary. Then suddenly everybody seemed to be talking. Everybody except for Sky, Jack and Callum. Sky, standing formally at attention, did his best to keep his feelings on the matter to himself. Jack felt the shift in his reality so profoundly that he couldn't seem to think of anything to say. Some new guy, a perfect stranger, was being put in charge of his Squad. How was he supposed to feel about that? As for Callum, there was no guessing what was going on behind those dark blue eyes.

"That's enough!" Cruger shouted over the noise, and the clamor at once died away, "Now I know some of you may not like it, but the decision has been made. You'll just have to make the best of it," he paused, looking significantly at Jack, then added, "Dismissed."

Bridge was the first out of the room, but the others followed directly. The Rangers were going to reconvene in the common area, and they all had something on their minds. Bridge wanted to go directly to his room, but knew he dared not miss this second- if unofficial -meeting.

When everyone had arrived, it was Syd who fired the first shot.

"Jack! Why didn't you say something?"

"Me? What was I supposed to say?"

"Red Ranger can assign someone to command in their absence," Bridge volunteered quietly, "Because you didn't, Cruger had to take matters into his own hands."

"What? Sky isn't good enough for you?" Syd pushed, "I know you two don't get along, but don't you think this is taking it a bit too far?"

"I didn't do anything!" Jack protested.

"That's right, you didn't," Bridge spat, which was startling because he was usually the last to become angry.

Then he turned and left the room. He couldn't take it. His head was still hurting, and he couldn't stand being in the same room with Callum. He was going to go to his room, and stay there. Preferably for the next six weeks or so.

"Tough crowd," was Callum's first comment after Bridge left.

"Don't mind them," Sky replied quietly, "We've been through a lot together. A new face kinda sets us on edge. I'm sure you can understand that," he then followed Bridge's example and left.

"What's with them?" Jack asked aloud.

"Can't speak for Cadet Tate," Callum said, "but I'm pretty sure Carson still hates me."

"That's ridiculous," Z interjected, "Bridge doesn't hate anyone."

"You've got that wrong," Callum told her, "Carson and I... we've got some history. What? He never mentioned me to any of you? And here I thought you trusted one another."

He smirked, and then he too left the room, leaving only Jack, Syd and Z behind.

"Do you know him?" Jack asked of Syd.

"No. But Bridge has been with SPD longer than any of us. Callum must have done his training before we did, maybe they met then," Syd replied.

"He never mentioned Callum Reese?" Jack asked.

"Not to me. Maybe to Sky, I don't know. You'd have to ask him."