I don't own Power Rangers. Hope you enjoy. As is this is just a small short story but I may add chapters later if/when I am inspired to do so.
"Ziggy, there's a man outside wanting to talk to you," Scott informed.
"Me? It's not the mob is it?"
"He looked kind of sketchy but didn't seem to want to kill you." Scott shrugged.
"I'll go with you," Dillon put his hand on Ziggy's shoulder.
As soon as Ziggy saw the man his whole demeanor changed. Dillon had never seen Ziggy get so angry. "Get the fuck out of here."
"Come on, Zig. I just want to talk."
"You gave up your chance to talk years ago. I don't care where you've been or where you are going, but never show your face around here again." Ziggy turned to head back into the garage.
"I was trying to steal medicine for her. You know how expensive it was. I've been in jail since."
Ziggy paused but still wasn't facing the mysterious man.
"I've kept tabs on you this whole time. I didn't leave by choice."
Ziggy turned back, walked up to him, and punched him. "You could have sent a letter or something. She died thinking you abandoned us! I grew up and had to join the cartels just to survive!"
"I know, Ziggy. And I feel terrible about it every waking moment of my life. I always wanted better for you. I know I can't make up for anything, I just wanted you to know the truth."
"Well now I know, so please just leave."
"Here," the man handed out a piece of paper. "I have a phone and you are the only one with the number. If you change your mind, I'll always answer."
Ziggy grabbed the paper, walked back inside and went upstairs. When Dillon finally entered their room, he noticed Ziggy was just staring at the paper.
Ziggy finally snapped out of his thoughts, "Sorry about all that. Weren't we going to play pool?"
"Are you sure you don't need to talk about whatever just happened?"
"Not much to talk about. My mother was sick and my father abandoned us. When she died I went to the orphanage and then when I got old enough I joined the cartels. End of story."
Dillon sighed but didn't want to push the subject. He watched Ziggy place the paper in his pocket before heading downstairs. Dillon figured maybe Ziggy just needed some more time.