In a another house, on a different street, Tommy stood sullenly while he took several sharp pokes to the chest from his drunken, wild-eyed "father." His expression was cold and icy as he watched the older man rant and rave about the shirking of his responsibilities. Sweat beaded the man's forehead and dampened his already greasy hair; spit sprayed as he screamed and berated the teen.
The kitchen where the Green Ranger stood could have been mistaken for a war zone. Jagged white porcelain decorated the linoleum, a lone chair rested on its side with all but one leg missing. Walls which had at one time been a cheery yellow were splattered with unidentifiable muck and pocketed with deep gouges. How the cops hadn't ended up over here, he wasn't sure.
The smell of alcohol burned his nostrils; it wafted from the several empty bottles by the back door and blasted him full on when the drunk's breath smacked him in the face. It took every ounce of self control he possessed to not head butt the son of a bitch.
"You think you can run the streets like a little hood when there's shit that needs doing here! Look at this place!" His bare hairy foot kicked at the bursting black trash bag on the floor; the contents exploded up into the air and rained back down onto the plastic. Not getting the respectful response he expected from Tommy, the man's eye's narrowed and he huffed, trying to stare punk down.
The Green Ranger merely glowered at the brute, arms crossed over his chest and lip curling slightly like a snarling dog. His expression was clearly a challenge in the drunk's eyes. Aggressively, he shoved the boy into the wall behind him.
"So, you're tough shit now, huh?" he taunted.
Still, Tommy remained silent. His "father" stormed over to one of the upright chairs where his trusty black leather work belt was draped. Snatching it, he doubled it over for maximum impact.
"Alright you little smart ass! Obviously you're too stupid to understand the hierarchy in this hovel!"
He menacingly advanced on the teen, arm poised to strike.
The Green Ranger chuckled.
"Go on, old man and do it. I can promise you'll regret it."
Briefly, his dad's blood shot eyes widened before the belt hissed through the air and caught Tommy across the chest. He pulled back and swung again; the teen's face rocked to the right and his lip split. Blow after blow sunk its teeth into the boy as he stood still, not even moving to defend himself.
The man panted with exertion as he wildly punished his willful, cocky son. In his stupor, it didn't even register that Tommy never cried out, never begged him to stop, or even raised his arms to shield his head and face. His frame only shook slightly, his face averted.
Arms starting to ache, his dad gradually lowered the belt to his side and peered at the teen to see if this time the lesson took. He was stunned to discover that Tommy was actually laughing. Dark, flashing eyes slowly raised to rest on his father's bewildered face.
"Thank you, sir. May I have another?" he mocked, grinning as he felt the first tingles of his Ranger healing course through his veins.
Lips pulled tightly against his teeth, he drew back with the belt, prepared to grant Tommy's request. However, before the belt could land, the teen's hand shot forward and seized it; giving a sharp yank, he ripped it from his father's grasp. Charging the old man like a bull, he thrust the belt in front of his face.
"Never again, you filthy sack of shit!"
Tommy turned to the refrigerator and removed a large glistening bottle of Smirnoff. Looking pointedly at the older man, he silently dared him to stop him.
"That's what I thought," Green Ranger hissed.
He bounded up the creaky stairs to his room; once inside he slammed the door and flipped on his stereo. Soon heavy metal reverberated throughout the house. Opening the Vodka, Tommy reclined on his bed, the bare, lumpy mattress a sharp contrast to the Red Ranger's.
Taking out the golden coin, he took in its beauty, its power. The intricately etched Dragon emblem called to his very soul. It was the only reason he was still alive. If not for his Empress, well... Tommy couldn't see any point to his tortured existence.
He'd toyed with razor blades before. Considered the gun he knew the old man kept in the closet. Plus, there was always a strong rope and somewhere to hang it. Tommy's life had pretty well been hell; why continue? What was one life out of billions?
Empress Rita was his salvation. If not for serving her, his life would have no purpose. Soon she would rule the world; he would be her prize warrior. And when it came time to decide the fate of the people of Earth, he thought he might very well enjoy being her chief executioner as well. That fat, worthless fuck downstairs would be the first. Followed of course by the shallow, man eating hussy he called a wife.
That bitch was a conniving old whore who liked to jump into his bed when her husband was too drunk to perform. She introduced him to the pleasures of the flesh; if he closed his eyes, he could imagine any partner he desired. Afterward, he felt pure disgust and no amount of hot water washed away her vile odor.
The alcohol burned his throat and made his eyes water; the slow build of vengeance in his heart continued to grow. As Rita's champion, he deserved far better than this trash hole and these two moles. He might have to play nice with the Rangers, but nothing was said about his conduct with anyone else. Enough was enough. The Green Ranger clenched the coin tightly in his fist and rose from the bed.
The old man stumbled down the back steps into the darkened yard, dragging the black trash bag behind him. He almost lost he footing several times on the rickety back steps; his slippers covered the wrong feet and tripped him up. His cigarette dangled like a limp weed from the corner of his mouth.
"This is bullshit," he growled to himself.
As many times as he'd taken a belt to Tommy, he was stunned by the teen's defiance of the rules of the castle. HIS castle. He was master, king, and almighty God of this kingdom, busting his hump day in and day out to provide the luxuries his ungrateful wife and son enjoyed. Well, that shit was coming to an end because he was putting his damn foot down; you could take that to the bank. As far as he was concerned the bad ass could pack up his crap and hit the bricks.
He could just make out a path from the light cast by the back door. The further into the shadows he ambled, the harder it became to see. Panting with exertion, he managed to haul the bag to the cans by the shed. He didn't even notice the whisper of green and white boots through the brambly grass until the muscular assailant was upon him.
A painful jerk to his neck nearly lifted him off his feet as his breathing suddenly became impossible. Desperately, he tried to yell to his wife and son in the house; only a high pitched mousy squeak passed his lips. The Green Ranger pulled tightly on the old leather belt, wrapping it twice around his gloved hand. Yanking harder, he dropped the old man to the ground and with vicious animal-like snarls, he proceed to beat and pummel his victim. Blood splattered ruby red drops up the evil Ranger' arms, coating his white gloves, his forearms, shield, and visor. The man's face was purplish-red as the psychotic Ranger cruelly dragged him through the yard like a dog, blows still raining down.
The snarls turned to giggles as Tommy watched his "father" claw helplessly at the belt, twisting and writhing like a worm on hot concrete. One house shoe flipped through the air and disappeared as he struggled. A dampness blossomed in the crotch of his old blue sweatpants. Hazy eyes were filled with mindless terror at the sight of this unearthly attacker; the black visor served to reflect back his own tortured image.
Reaching the back steps, Tommy finally released the belt allowing the terrorized man to breath. He then viciously kicked out with his boot, catching his dad under the chin. Knocked out cold, he now lay in a bloody heap by the steps, the victim of an unknown attacker. Spinning on his heel, Tommy scooped up his partially full bottle of Vodka and teleported out, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.
The park was deserted this time of night as Jason approached. Cool air caressed his face and gently lifted his damp hair. It felt so good to be alone with his thoughts despite the blow out he knew he'd have to answer for eventually. He forced out a heavy breath.
Stress was definitely getting to him. The Red Ranger's back and neck chronically ached and not just from battle mishaps. Especially now with Zordon missing and the Command Center trashed; the Green Ranger showing up added even more tension. Absently, he rubbed a hand over his chest where the jerk had thrown a Power Blaster blade at him.
Hating the memory, the teen shook his head and fought the feeling of embarrassment creeping over him.
I should have been able to handle him. I'm the leader.
Instead he'd gotten his ass handed to him. It smarted. He wasn't used to being outclassed as a Ranger. His pride was bruised as much as his physical body.
Fortunately, Billy was making progress on the Command Center. Alpha 5 was functioning albeit with some kinks to fix. Soon the computer would be up and running and they could start looking for Zordon. Time just wasn't on their side.
Jason's mind was a mosaic of one worry after another. His feet wondered of their own accord, following the cement pathways through the park. Deep in thought, the whistling didn't immediately catch his attention. Startled, his eyes scanned his surroundings; dark pockets of night inhabited the spaces between the light posts. The sound of water reached him and he knew the lake was nearby.
Stealthily following the whistling, something in his gut warned him to use caution.
Cresting a slight hill, the Red Ranger came upon a row of picnic tables by the water's edge. He could just make out a figure laying atop the one of the tables. Squinting, he tip toed closer.
Holy shit!
To his absolute horror, Jason realized it was the Green Ranger. Ducking behind a tree, he peeked around the trunk to observe the demented Ranger.
Laying on his back, the Green Ranger stared up at the starry sky. They sparkled like errant diamond dust on velvet. It was breathtaking. The moon was pale silver and so large he imagined he could pluck it from the heavens. He raised a hand to encircle the sphere between his fingertips.
He laughed and continued to whistle, as he imagined handing the Earth over to his Empress in the palm of his hand. The thought was amusing. Smirnoff apparently made everything gleeful.
The bottle sat by his hip mostly empty by this point. Tommy knew from experience he was going to be sick as a dog and the next morning would find him laying in the toilet. Nothing was planned until the afternoon as far as Empress was concerned.
As long as he dried out by then...
"What are you doing down here?" an authoritative voice demanded.
Oh, goddammit!
This has to be a cosmic joke. Tommy ran a hand over the front of his helmet. Why did he keep running into this son of a bitch. Did he have a fucking sixth sense?
Sitting up, he spun around to face the Red Ranger; his enemy stood with his hands on his hips, still as arrogant as before.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I forget to give you my permission slip, Red Ranger? Here it is!"
The bottle was spinning end over end and missed the other boy by inches; it shattered loudly, spraying glass and alcohol across the ground. A good portion of liquid splashed Jason's calf as he attempted to dodge.
Tommy laughed like a hyena, pointing at Jason, as he wiped at his leg. Looking back angrily, the Red Ranger caught sight of the red decorating the green uniform. Heart sinking, he tried to keep his voice strong.
"What did you do?"
The Green Ranger held up his hands, turning them to and fro as if he had forgotten. He growled menacingly.
"Nothing that concerns you, you pompous jack ass."
Leaping from the table, he wobbled slightly as he landed closer to Jason.
"Who did you hurt? Where are they?"
"Relax, Red. They'll live if that's what you're worried about. There are things worse than death but you'll get to experience that in due time." He lowered his head as he advanced.
"Think you're in any condition to fight me right now, Green?" Jason retorted, as he dropped into a fighting stance.
Truth be told, he wasn't sure he was up to it either after the vomiting debacle. The fact that the Green Ranger was strolling through Angel Grove park drunk out his mind troubled him. What if another person came upon this unstable Ranger? He'd obviously already done something reprehensible.
Jason held up a gloved hand.
"Look, I think we both don't need to be doing this right now. Talk to me. Tell me why you're working for Rita."
"Fuck you, Red Ranger!" Tommy darted forward and attempted to tackle Jason to the ground. It didn't go as planned; he was too unsteady. The red clad teen easily slipped his hold and delivered a kick to his attacker's back. The Green Ranger sprawled on the ground; using this advantage, Jason pinning him in place.
"Like I said, you aren't in any condition to do this. You will get hurt."
Rage boiled over and in a burst of energy, he knocked the Red Ranger off.
"All you Rangers want to do is talk. Alright. Fine."
Both Rangers regained their feet and circled one another.
"Rita is my Empress, my life. She commands and I obey. What don't you understand?"
"Look, there's something wrong with you. Let us help you. Come on, this can't be what you want!"
Tommy stopped moving and lowered his head, as if in thought. He swayed slightly from side to side. A soft sniff reached Jason.
"You're right," he cried. "I don't want to do this but I can't stop. I do need your help." Slowly, he extended a hand towards the Red Ranger. "Please. Help me." The Green Ranger sobbed.
Carefully, Jason moved toward the shivering teen in concern. He reached out to take the offered hand. Quick as a snake, the evil Ranger grabbed Jason's wrist in a vise like grip. Sudden bright pain flared as Tommy evilly sliced Jason's gloved palm with a piece of broken glass he'd had hidden in his other hand.
Jason cried out as bright red blood gushed from the wound. Dimly, he became aware of the Green Ranger pulling him even closer and the bloodied glass was coming at him again. Reflexively, Jason kicked the other boy in stomach, causing him to lose his grip.
The Red Ranger moaned and protectively guarded his injured arm as he backed away quickly.
Tommy laughed.
"You dummy. I can't believe you fell for that. You sure you're not drunk too?"
His voice changed to one of ominous warning.
"Red Ranger, I've spent an entire afternoon imagining all the ways you could die. Stabbing you, shooting you, drowning you. Snapping your neck. I'll never be this vulnerable again. You wasted your chance to stop me because you wanted to be my savior. When your friends are destroyed, remember this moment."
With that, the Green Ranger teleported to Rita's moon palace, leaving an enraged and shaking Jason to fully embrace the enormity of his failure.