Hide and Seek

by Rebel Paisley

Shane knew that alternate dimensions were nothing to be afraid of. Even if the whole team was trapped inside, all they had to do was stick together and eventually they would find a way out. There was nothing different about this prison, despite how unique Lothor had made it. They would escape, just like they always did. There was nothing to be afraid of.

3. The Dust Has Only Just Begun To Fall

Chapter 3

The Dust Has Only Just Begun To Fall

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, adult language

Notes: Hints of Dustin/Cam

READ THIS: For all problems, worries, and concerns, I simply refer you to the beginning author's notes in Chapter 1.

So much thanks to my beta, the real vampire, for editing this chapter. I know this one was especially difficult due to length and content and I am ridiculously lucky to have someone as patient and thorough as her cheering in my corner. If you are interested in more Shane/Hunter angst, you should read her story "A Place Without Exception" because it is, for lack of better description, SO GOOD.

---

-:-:-:-:-:-

---

Shane's head was throbbing; a dull, merciless ache that encompassed his entire brain. He managed to feel a trickle of wetness trail down the side of his face despite that. It was the side that hadn't been scraped against the rough cement floor as some kind of living sponge, intent for cleaning and leaving nothing but fresh abrasions and a trail of blood.

Cut, he realized vaguely, the word dancing into his consciousness for a brief visit before flying away with the rest of his coherency, he must have cut something. Head wounds were the worst because they tended to bleed a lot and if they were unfortunately positioned they could bleed into your eyes, hindering your vision, always bad but-

It was going down the side of his face, not into his eye, so Shane figured that was good.

It was about the only good thing he had going for him at the moment.

The room around him- the remains, he remembered now, the remains of the room around him were suffering from the fallout of an explosion. The air had ignited with this unrelenting heat, baking Shane's skin, causing sweat to pour off of his face as he attempted to regain his bearings, eyes adjusting to the world around him.

Cam-

Hunter-

He needed to find-

Shit, there was stuff on- debris, that was it; his lower half was buried underneath the twisted remains of some shelving units. He could still feel his legs though; there was no damage, no problems beside a slight hindrance. Or if there were, Shane would realize in a few seconds after he dragged his sorry hide out towards freedom. He grabbed at the ground in front of him, fingers slick with sweat and blood – he'd cut some of his fingers too, damn – and pulled as hard as he could, heaving his body from his prison of broken metal and collapsed ceiling. It was- had been impossible, but he managed. Though the pounding in his skull was emulated throughout the rest of his body, his muscles protesting the movements (too much energy exerted that day, too many close calls), Shane managed it. Barely and painfully.

The air ninja was trying to grasp at the details, he knew them, had known them at some point, the events that had led him to this, but he couldn't place what they were. He wanted to stay in that spot, huddled on the ground until he regained his bearings and his body recovered, but something in his mind kept screaming he was on the verge of danger. He was on edge, confused at where the feeling came from, but he still found himself clinging to it. His instincts were there for a reason, and he sure as hell wasn't going to abandon them just because he was a little confused.

Explosion.

The word came back to him sharply, like a spark burning away the remaining doubt until the preceding events came flooding back to Shane, the secret stealth mission, the equipment, the trap.

He had been right, but it had come to him too late to do any good. He would have to hate himself for that later because now he couldn't- Now was not the time. Shane needed to find Cam and Hunter and get them the hell out of there, forget the stupid piece of equipment and move on.

"Shane-"

And with that one word, just his name, the majority of the tension that had settled in the red ranger's shoulders lessened itself; a feeling so sweet he almost fell into laughter. Shane managed to contain himself, through some miracle, and damn if the sight of Hunter Bradley hobbling towards him never looked better. The blond had a death hold on his rifle, as though he were transferring all of his frustration and anger into the weapon through grip alone, trying to keep himself focused on their wayward mission. The other teen looked about as bad off as Shane felt, and by the permanent frown set on his face Shane must be looking pretty rundown himself. Yet, they were still moving. They had to give themselves that much. They still had their weapons, they were still maneuverable, and the flood of alien beasts that were seeking them out in exchange for some mythic piece of equipment hadn't come flooding in just yet to bring an end to their unfortunately short ranger careers.

That had to count as something.

"There are ships now," Hunter spat, gesturing quickly to the exposed sky above them. "Other ones. I think they're with our robot pals. They're holding off the aliens for now."

"Speak of the goddamn cavalry," Shane muttered.

Instead of chiding him for the comment Hunter tiredly nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. "I'll take it. Now we just need to find Cam-"

"-and get out of here," Shane finished.

He wasn't sure why. It wasn't like where Hunter had been going with his statement was a mystery, or that letting him speak his piece would be the end of the world, it just- in the moment, it felt like the right thing to do. Like the mayhem of their idiotic plan somehow made them more in sync, even if that was the only logical kind of behavior that could result from such a situation.

But Shane said it anyway and Hunter nodded again anyway, still not looking annoyed, and Shane figured that his "in sync" proposal might actually have some merit.

"He was this way." Shane motioned towards the area he remembered Cam visiting before, frowning when he realized that the indicated space had been the most affected by the explosion.

Probably the intended target, he noted, stowing that fact away as his body moved forward on auto-pilot, mind racing as the implications of it settled on him. He and Hunter had been on the outskirts of the blast zone, only having to suffer through minor rubble, scrapes, and possible concussions. But if Cam was closer…He was on the second level, but Shane wasn't sure how much that would have aided the tech. Sure, the green ranger didn't have to worry about a catwalk or any weapons wracks falling on top of him but there was still a hefty amount of ceiling missing, and the fact he had been right there-

Shane barely noticed the cuts as he scraped his fingers raw against broken edges of ceiling, pulling himself up onto the massive avalanche of broken building pieces. He kept his eyes sharp and focused on Hunter's breathing beside him; taking what little comfort he could in the definite fact he had a teammate beside him and attempting to distract himself from the chimerical space battle waging war just above their heads. It didn't matter. It did- it did – but in this exact second it didn't. In this second all that mattered was the fact that Hunter was beside him and Cam was somewhere in front of him, possibly injured.

That was Cam's favorite word today right? "Possibly"? Shane would use it when they did a mission debrief later, like how this was "possibly" the most horrible plan they had ever come up with ever.

The two reds were climbing over a fallen ceiling beam, ducking habitually as a pair of ships blazed close overhead, when they finally came upon Cam. He was close to the side of the building, just as Shane had suspected and…for a second, Shane had to internally apologize for his distaste for Cam's 'possibilities'. As though, in some way, this would bring Shane forgiveness from the cosmos, or that his mockery, in turn, was what made this fate befall them.

He knew that wasn't the case. He knew it didn't make sense but to his credit, nothing made sense.

But he was…he was wasting time. They were wasting time.

They'd found Cam.

Most of his body was buried underneath cement rubble from the bunker's ceiling, devouring him so that only his head and upper torso were exposed, nothing more. Frightening, that was- that was bad. That wasn't good. How were they supposed to get him out-?

"God damnit," Hunter cursed beside him. "God damnit. God. Damnit."

Yeah. Yeah, it was- it was bad. Somehow worse by Hunter's lack of composure, like if by his level of steadfastness he managed to curse, then it was so much more horrible by their- by a normal person's- standards.

"It's okay," Shane muttered distractedly, eyeing the beams and wreckage closest to Cam, a dark kind of wetness pooling between the cracks of them, gasoline maybe-

"It's not-" Hunter bit the word out, then paused, inhaling heavily through his nose. "It's not okay."

"Okay," Shane echoed, agreeing, not taking his eyes off of Cam. They needed to- they should be moving now, the ships wouldn't stay forever and they needed to see how badly Cam was hurt. If he didn't wake up soon they would have to carry him and they could manage it, they could, but they needed to-

He moved forward, knees scrapping against the broken rock beneath him, a small trickle of that liquid brushing against his skin as he tried to get a better look at Cam. He reached towards the green ranger's face, patting the side of it gently, swallowing back a gale of dust threatening to choke him, the ash and haze from the explosion still lingering around.

"Cam," he said, urging the buried teen to wake up. "Cam, we gotta go, we've got to-"

Shane was cut off when Hunter wrenched his arm away, grip surprisingly strong considering the hell they had just been through. There was something horribly unknown twisted in Hunter's expression, so close to his usual bouts of annoyance at Shane but somehow beyond that, with anger and sadness in it. Now that he looked, now that he could see, Shane noticed his eyes were red, probably irritated by the building particles floating through the air.

"Shane you-" The blond cut himself off with a shake of his head. Shane watched him, curiously, as the other teen focused on a working out a metallic kind of object that was buried among the rubble by Cam's side – the equipment, had to be – and then he was shoving it in Shane's direction with unceremonious care, eyes still fixed on Cam before him, leaving Shane to wonder at the small, metal, egg-like backpack nestled in his hands.

So this was what they were after, this was what they wanted.

Shane hoped. He prayed and hoped and hoped that it was worth whatever injuries Cam had gotten, if they got out of this mess in one piece. It was a lucky break, for Cam, to have Hunter focusing on his extraction, didn't want Shane to get in the way, that figured-

"Hey," Shane said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he realized Hunter wasn't assessing the debris as he had thought. Instead the crimson ranger seemed to be digging around the tech's neck, fingers making spastic, rough movements as he tried to- as he reached for-

"Hey," Shane echoed, this time reaching forward to grab Hunter's wrist, stopping him before he could pull the samurai morpher from Cam's neck. "I know it doesn't work but you can't just-"

"You're an idiot," Hunter snarled, jerking his wrist from Shane's slackened grip. He removed the amulet with Shane still protesting, turning to face the air ninja with it cradled between his reddened palms. It was so…bizarrely careful and reverent, just the movement of it, that one brief gesture as he offered up this…Cam's gift. The gift from his mother. Hunter held it, poised there in a silent offering, fingers shaking from the respect of…from the…

"You need to put it back," Shane said.

Hunter ignored him and moved forward, settling the thing around Shane's neck despite his protests, despite the heat building behind his eyes and the growing wetness at his knees. Despite Cam lying there, still and unmoving; deathly pale, eyes half-open and unseeing, gazing off into a distant infinity that wasn't unconsciousness, that wasn't a dream-

"Oh my God," he whispered, words spilling out before he could stop them.

He didn't have- This couldn't be real. It couldn't be real-

"We need to go."

The very act of stifling the protest "But Cam-" waiting on his tongue, hand already reaching out towards the tech habitually was so arduously difficult Shane was surprised he had managed it. Surprised he could physically restrain himself from not grabbing at the rubble around Cam, hefting stones left and right until his friend was free and they could go, because they couldn't, they couldn't leave him. That's not what they did, they didn't leave people-

But he did it. Shane swallowed the words down with a shudder as though they had stabbed at him, chocking all the way down until he had nothing left to say. And he didn't. He really didn't.

Hunter was dragging him down the pile of ruined building by the time Shane managed to…by the time he accepted Cam wasn't- he wasn't there. They somehow made it down in one piece, both on shaky legs, Shane still casting glances up towards the top of the smoldering mound, as though he were waiting for something to change; only stopping when Hunter began urging them forward. The thunder ninja moved them out of the pitiful remains of their warehouse and into the night, one hand firmly clasped around Shane's wrist and the other aiming a pistol in front of him - at some point he must have taken that from Shane, the rifle had too much recoil to use one-handed - and they ran.

They ran through more bodies, more smoking husks of destroyed mechs and the worse, biological carcasses of fallen aliens, broken and twisted at unnatural angles, swimming in their own putrid blood, dark and shiny, even when it was outside of their bodies-

The emptiness in his stomach was the only thing that kept Shane from vomiting, bile threatening to build in his throat regardless. His eyes were stinging as he averted them, focusing on the grip of Hunter's hand and the forest drawing closer as he tried to keep his legs moving, his lungs heaving with huge gasps of air as the evening descended into one big nightmare. A nightmare where they were two when they should be three. When the gentle weight bumping against Shane's chest and the smooth metal shell tucked underneath his arm stubbornly refused to let him accept otherwise, and even then it was a fight not to go back. To not to stay by Cam's side.

There was a movement to their left, a concept that was too foreign to Shane considering they were on an active battlefield, and there, as though they had been waiting by the woods they had disappeared into earlier, was a whole squad of those aliens. A dozen of them, easy; tucked away from the rain of fire barraging their alien team-mates, waiting in the relatively safe capacity of ambush duty for the stupid humans to come out and give them their toy.

If Shane hadn't been so stuck in his own head, wading about in this perpetual state of weightless shock, he probably would have noticed that Hunter was limping earlier. That the determined gate Shane had been keeping up with had only felt speedy because of how distracted he was.

But Hunter was a trooper, a fighter, and adapted appropriately, darting off to the side and tugging Shane along as he had before, away from the aliens, skirting the edge of the forest while the monsters roared behind them, guns at the ready, attack imminent. On a good day, the ninjas could have outrun them. On a good day they could have tried to put up a fight. But this was, undoubtedly, about as far away from a good day as any of them got; Hunter's fierce hobble was losing their fight for distance and Shane was too exhausted to carry him and their own stupid guns were too foreign and too fucking few to do any damn good.

But Shane wasn't- and he wouldn't, would not just give them what they wanted. He wouldn't chuck the metal half-egg behind him and hope the bastards would just let him and Hunter limp away into the night. First of all because it probably wouldn't work, and secondly because this thing…this, whatever it was, it was theirs. It was Cam's so it was theirs and they, the aliens, did not get-

They didn't get to have what belonged to Cam. They had already taken too much. They weren't allowed more.

So Shane didn't think when he pulled his arm out of Hunter's grasp. He didn't think when he shoved Cam's equipment into the blond's arms and he didn't think when he yanked two of Hunter's possible-grenade-cylinders from the belt that was still looped across the crimson ranger's chest and fumbled with them, wasting precious seconds as he figured out how to make them work, and he didn't think when he chucked them in the general direction of the alien patrol behind them.

He didn't think, he just did. And after that he was the one grabbing Hunter's arm and hauling ass, pulling the other teen behind him as they threw themselves into the woods, stumbling over rocks and roots and shit- whatever the hell it was, it didn't matter- and running like their goddamn lives were on the line because in this particular instance they were, they were and if they didn't run they were going to join-

There was a confirmation of the supposed-grenades being definite-grenades a few seconds later, when the world erupted behind them in an ear-shattering eruption and their faces met the ground once more, tumbling and rolling and fire- the woods closest to the clearing's edge were burning, smoldering in charred residue.

Damn, Shane's head. His body, his all-of-it, too many overwhelming stimuli attacking at once, yelling to be heard, but Shane pushed them away. As fast as the pain would allow him, Shane scoped out the effects of the blast, checking on the shape of their enemies. There weren't any more gun blasts, but that could just be for the moment, the aliens possibly dazed from a roll and tumble of their own.

But the only thing behind them were flaming trees and two fresh craters of scorched earth, sweltering tendrils wafting away, rising into the night.

The alien troop had been…irradiated. They were no more.

Shane and Hunter were as free as they were going to get.

Ignoring his body's protests, Shane hauled himself upright, knowing that another patrol of those things could show up at any moment. He helped Hunter off the ground after, the second blast doing little to help the crimson ranger's already injured ankle, and they stumbled off into the night, back towards their rock mound hideaway. They stayed silent when Shane pulled one of Hunter's arm across his shoulders, trying to keep weight off the injured ankle, and they said nothing when they moved on, the epitome of gracelessness and desperation, searching for an end. All they had to do was run. Just run, run, and escape; that was the mantra Shane held himself to. That was the one he repeated as his grip tightened against Hunter's waist. Just run, run, and escape, and after that they would tackle the- the after. The things that needed to be done.

They made it back somehow. Perhaps the aliens had been cocky enough to think only one patrol would be needed, or maybe they were just really bad at communicating and didn't know their buddies were dead-

Shane put it from his mind and stayed grateful. Grateful to God or Buddha or whatever-the-hell-else was out there that guided wayward souls, because somehow they made it back in one piece. Relatively. He guessed would be the best way to phrase it. Cam would say they had made it back relatively in one piece.

They stumbled back into their dark and littered hallway, on unsteady legs with heaving lungs and shaky, blood-soaked fingers, but they made it.

Something that now, Shane knew, was not always a guarantee.

The walk back to their base camp was silent, the attempts to grab great, gasping mouthfuls of air putting off whatever conversation they could have, if they were going to- they would, later. But not now.

Shane readjusted his hold on Hunter's arm as they hobbled forward, unsure why walking was becoming such a difficult task, when this drunken stagger became the only thing he could manage. Hadn't the run out of the base been quick and graceful? Effortless? It felt like such a long time ago, weeks and months between the Shane-of-then and this new Shane, the one clinging to Hunter as though he needed the teen as much as the blond needed him for balance. Breathing was too much of a priority for the blond to complain about it and for that, Shane was grateful. He couldn't describe- could never hope to put into words how badly he needed Hunter to just exist, right there, with him. Not as another teammate standing, but as another witness to guarantee Shane's sanity.

That what they had seen…it had happened. No hallucinations, no illusions. It had happened.

It was undeniable.

When they made it back under the joined glow of flickering candles they collapsed against the wall, sliding down the seamless metal until they fell into piles on the floor, curled up on themselves. The room was still empty, just as they'd left it, the rest of the team still working away steadily at their assigned tasks. Shane wasn't sure how much of a relief that was. If it was better to put off the catastrophe that was to follow, or if they got it done-

He couldn't- he couldn't do this. He couldn't just- this couldn't be happening -

Shane had his knees drawn to his chest; his rifle laid across the top, for all the good it had done him.

He had felt so protected with it earlier, so proud of his findings. His contribution, his and Hunter's, they gave something that they could actually use. Something to give them a chance at defending themselves.

He supposed they would have, in the hands of someone else.

In a pique of fury and newfound strength Shane ripped the rifle's strap off his chest and tossed the useless thing to the side. Far enough to be out of reach but still mockingly in his eye line, glowing that soft, fanciful green Shane had once found soothing. Interesting, even.

Cam had too. Cam had-

Beside him, Hunter's gasps began dwindling off into a more natural kind of breathing, his lungs recovering from the sudden shock of- that…that was what. The equipment - the thing - this small, metal contraption that looked like some kind of reject-backpack was clutched against his chest almost naturally, his fingers white and shaking from how frighteningly tight Hunter was holding on to it. Probably not even realizing it. Brown smudges marked the spots nearest to his grip, dried or drying blood, so- it had to be though, it wasn't dirt. It looked like dirt, but it was- had to be blood.

The liquid on Shane's knees, the one pooling around Cam's body, the one-

Because he had assumed, he had thought they had found Cam. That after the explosion, they had found their teammate.

But they hadn't.

They had only found Cam's body.

Just that…thought, that very idea that had been plaguing Shane's nightmares as an extreme possibility, a finite and distant warning hanging over his head should he falter in leading his team- just the fact he was able to think that, to see it and perceive it and to not break, not shatter at that very moment meant his mind was still fighting this. That he wasn't- that he couldn't grasp this. That maybe if he waited a few minutes it would change, because it shouldn't be possible.

Nightmares were supposed to stay hidden in the depths of your mind, attacking only when your worries and fears had built up too high in your subconscious. Nightmares were over-dramatizations, things you laughed at for being absurdly distanced from reality, making it so they could only exist in dreams. They weren't supposed to happen.

Not here, not to them-

Worst case scenarios had naturally become a part of Shane's thought process when it came to considering strategy. Just pondering the worst that would happen if the team did this, the worst injuries they could get, the most damage they could do to their zords. Based on that he tried to choose his tactics appropriately, even if the worst…even if the most unfavorable options were the ones least likely to occur, he always tried to keep it in mind. He thought, in a way, it made him a better leader.

If it did or if it didn't, it didn't count for shit now because the worst had actually happened, and a great deal of help he had been in preventing it.

Shane could smell it now, just like he was back in the warehouse, despite the overpowering stench of gasoline and burnt rubber, from where he didn't know, but the smell- It was coppery, coppery and metallic and everywhere, seeping through the cracks of building materials, staining the- squishing…

Shane played it back in his head, remembering how…normal it had been. Trapped in a stupidly dangerous situation, adrenaline and tension high, all the odds against them with nothing but some puny lasers, possible grenades, and the mind of a tech-genius working in their favor. So what if they got by an explosion? Those happened all the time. You couldn't mope over that, you couldn't – mourn – the things beyond your control. Like they had the many times before, they had gotten up, dusted themselves off, and reevaluated. Tried to regroup. It was normal. They didn't have powers, they didn't have their suits, but aside from that, this was business as usual.

But Hunter had…he had known the second he laid eyes on Cam. He had seen and instantly realized, instantly accepted what had happened, way before Shane's mind was anywhere close to-

He still wasn't. His mind still wanted to create plans for how to rescue Cam, when to go back, how they would do it, smarter this time, better this time, but-

Hunter had seen and reacted. Had taken over because someone had to, and Shane remembered how Hunter had fought to pull Cam's morpher off of his neck, trying to exercise some kind of polite dignity in regards to the bo- to Cam, it was Cam, and he was so careful, had taken such pain to be respectful, despite how weak and aching and pressed for time they had been, the aliens waiting to attack. He had tried to give him what little he could; Cam deserved that much. Cam had deserved-

Not to go down bleeding in some place so far from home. Shane wondered how much of it was on him, how much of Cam's blood would stain him brown and wondered how much it would matter either way. It could stand as proof of what they'd done, to commemorate who they'd…to commemorate Cam, but at the same time he wanted it gone.

That wasn't too much to ask for was it? That wasn't- This whole damn thing-

How could this be it? How could this be happening? How could this- they- this wasn't what happened. This wasn't how Power Rangers operated. They won! They won and they fought and they worked hard and they won. They didn't get teleported places to -die- they didn't- they don't -die-

He wanted it gone. Gone like this nightmare, gone like this stupid, horrible mess he had led them into, like Shane himself had any kind of right to call himself a leader. Who the fuck made a seventeen year old in charge of life-risking decisions? Who started that policy? Who in their fucking mind-?

"I don't-"

Shane glanced over to see Hunter slowly release his grip on the equipment, so painful and measured that he had to be thinking out every movement of every joint until his fingers were pried free, shaking in midair as they hovered open in front of his chest, examining the reddish-brown palms.

"At some point," Hunter started again, voice soft and almost…noncommittal. "You would think I'd get use to the smell. But I haven't."

"Your parents?" Shane asked, mouth moving of its own volition, digging into a conversation he had no right to be involved in. As if he had the kind of relationship with Hunter that made this okay.

But he couldn't- he hadn't thought, with the rest of it all, with the rest of- he didn't think. The words had come out on their own.

But Hunter replied anyway. Probably for the same reason Shane had asked.

"Yeah," he said, quietly.

There was nothing else, only a growing pitiful silence where they kept to their own thoughts, and Shane was struck by the utter horribleness of it all. The fact that Hunter was already familiar with this feeling of empty sadness, this grief; the shock and the images that brought it all on- it was horrible.

It was all so very, very horrible.

At first Shane thought it was the blood still pouring from his head wound; just that slow, persistent dribble traveling down the side of his face. He focused on it and on the pulsing aches and bruises littering his body. Everything hurt; it all hurt. The throbbing in his head wasn't new, so it surprised him, a few seconds later, when he realized that he was crying; slow, fat tears making their way down his cheeks and his eyes felt so hot, his face so-

It was just one more thing, on top of all the other things, it wasn't- he shouldn't be worried. His throat was choked up and that was natural for this, and his head stung and his eyes stung and it all, it all-

He buried his face into Hunter's shoulder without thinking about it; he was closest, he was there and by obligation of being the closest warm body he got to deal with Shane slowly falling apart, taking what he could from the warmth of another being and breaking, broken, because of Cam.

Cam. Cam was gone, Cam wasn't here, Cam should be here but he wasn't, he wasn't, Cam was gone.

Cam was gone, and what for?

What could they have possibly gained?

The hand Hunter kneaded through his hair made Shane feel guilty enough to sob; who was he to take this, to demand this? He didn't deserve this from anyone, least of all Hunter. But he was there, the older Bradley, massaging the back of his skull in a way so familiarly comforting that he must have practiced it a million times on a worn and despairing Blake. He gave the comfort without having to be asked and Shane took it like the greedy bastard he was because he needed it so badly, so disbelieving in the vacant spot beside him, the familiar face that had always been promised as permanent, as invincible to the worst.

"Shane."

After a certain amount of minutes the fingers began to tug at the back of his neck, twisting small tendrils of hair between them to capture Shane's attention.

"Shane," Hunter echoed again, voice cracking. That was actually what got Shane to pull his head away, not the persistent tugging, just- the way he had asked.

When he was settled back against the wall he looked at Hunter and saw the wetness in his eyes, the stinging redness of threatening tears that the thunder ranger held in check through pure force of will.

He was mourning too; Hunter had liked Cam. But he had known, knew better than Shane, how precarious their lives had been in the world's balance. How easily someone could not be there the next day. Hunter knew the bite of –death- better than Shane did, and he had probably prepared himself accordingly, because he was Hunter goddamn Bradley, and that was the kind of shit you did when you became an orphan at age twelve. You prepared yourself.

"We need to get ready for the others. They'll have questions that we…" he trailed off with a shrug, allowing the small movement to finish his statement, but Shane couldn't quite bring himself to let it go.

Maybe it was a punishment or maybe he was forcing this connection with Hunter, but either way Shane continued, pressing the back of his palm against his eyes. "We have to answer. Right. We need to-"

"Shane." Hunter's eyes were tired, tired and knowing and painful and it was- they were honestly and unquestionably equals in this, that much was evident. "We can mourn later," he promised. "But right now we have to keep it together. Just-" he grasped Shane's arm with a bloody palm and beyond the intended comfort Shane could almost feel the dry texture of it, flaky and wrong. "Just keep it together now. Later we can…"

He bit off his words with a swallow, nodding to himself as though confirming his message was received.

Tragedy and melodrama, that's what it was, Hunter knowing this, he had done this, and Shane-

As much as he had wanted the other teen to level with him, ranger-to-ranger, he never wanted it to come like this. For this to be the necessary step to make it happen.

Just-

Fucking fuck-

"Dudes, there are like, so many Russian army clothes in here. We are good for at least a month-"

The sight of Dustin, cheerful and optimistic had Shane forcing himself to keep a neutral expression.

The yellow ranger was simply picking up where they had left off, revealing how drastically far Shane was from that mental place, that happy, worn-and-worried but still latching onto this sliver of confidence, because they had some facts. They knew some things. They had a base that was hidden and safe, that was supplied and they were all together in a place that was about as close to home as they had gotten on this trip.

It was a better emotional state to be in, not unreasonable.

Shane briefly wondered how long it would take Dustin to get back there, after he learned the news.

The curly-haired teen paused at the threshold of the locker room, hand still griping the half-open door, blinking rapidly as he took in the sight of Shane and Hunter collapsed against the far wall, his brain not comprehending the signals his eyes kept sending.

But as time drew on nothing changed. His abrupt silence seemed to have attracted Blake; the younger Bradley sidling up behind him quietly, peaking over the teen's shoulder with curious eyes, wondering what shenanigans the others could have gotten into while he was stuck ransacking lockers.

Blake did not hesitate, and Dustin's understanding seemed to time out at the same moment because they moved as one, striding across the room in hurried motions. Dustin jerked to a halt in front of Shane, fumbling into a half-crouch as he stared at the air ninja wide-eyed, raking his gaze over Shane's bruised body, radiating worry and fear. Blake faired slightly better, managing to keep a straight face while he made a mental tally of Hunter's wounds, shoulders pinched and tight as he continued his work. For now Hunter's boots concealed his ankle's swelling, which was the only reason Blake wasn't biting out demands to know what had happened. Shane knew that would have been the snapping point, that would have been the one thing too many that ended with a Bradley interrogation but for now, they had something. Hunter and Shane still had some reasonable control. It wasn't a lot; they'd probably lose it soon, which was why it was all the more important for them to…

To tell them. What had happened.

"Are you cut?" Dustin was babbling, hands skimming over the top of Shane's knees while he looked for some imaginary hurt. Shane hadn't seen earlier but the blood- the…amount had been greater than he'd assumed. The gasoline he'd thought he'd- but it wasn't, it had been blood and his legs were coated in it, from the hem of his shorts to the tops of his tennis shoes, all covered in dried and drying blood with Dustin perched above, staring at it with a frantic expression, words tumbling on top of one another as he fought to make a coherent sentence.

"Shit Shane," Blake whispered when he found a second to spare from Hunter, grimacing at the sheer amount of it. "What happened? How badly are you-?"

"It's not mine," were the first words Shane thought of. While true, they probably weren't the best choice.

Blake immediately stilled; one hand still on Hunter's shoulder as he stared Shane down, eyebrows furrowed in a state of incomprehension. Dustin, on the other hand, relaxed with a sigh, rocking back on his heels and running a distracted hand through his hair, as though they had dodged a bullet.

But Blake knew better. He realized, or at least recognized, that the two reds were not totally composed and additionally, and even more painful and glaring, the lack of green ranger gracing the room.

The blood was not Shane's. And Blake would know, as he had just given his brother the most thorough visual examination that could ever be given, that the blond had no wounds drastic enough to produce that amount of blood. The blood was not Hunter's.

It was just one look. One shared between two brothers who had a language all their own, one Shane had to watch in his peripherals as he tried to keep Dustin distracted for a few more precious seconds, wanting his friend- his friend who had already been through so much – to have what happiness he could, for just a little bit longer.

There was a slow inhale from Blake as he drew himself up, straightening his back out until he was at full height, and his eyes were…they were Hunter's. Sad and understanding and prepared. Prepared for the…emotional fallout that was to come, knowing someone had to be a rock to lean on.

A necessary role. Someone had to keep it together.

He stood back and waited, waited for Dustin to see it too.

"That was, undoubtedly, the best almost-bath I have ever had. I'm serious, though my opinion may be a little skewed after ten days of…"

Tori's eyes peaked out from under the towel draped across her head, hands busy with the task of drying out her hair. She looked good, better than the rest of them in clean clothes and a grime-free face, eyes glowing from that small yet vital session with her element. Even if she couldn't feel it, there was still a sense of comfort there. It was a psychological thing.

Her feet were bare against the floor, somehow appearing infinitely more delicate in the pale glow of the candlelight, fragile and human against the harsh metal flooring.

Shane wasn't sure why he noted it, except that he did.

"What's going on?" she asked, dropping the towel until it rested atop her shoulders, playful tone abandoned as she recognized the air of seriousness permeating the room. "Did something happen? What's with the-" She froze, eyes widening as she caught sight of Shane's leg.

Thankfully Dustin was the one to step in, waving her off before she could dash to the leader's side too.

"It's not his," the yellow ranger replied, sounding so choked and grateful Shane wanted to punch himself. "No wounds, it's just-"

"Then what happened?" She was pleading, but Shane could also see her getting angry. She had missed out on something important, something key and she didn't like it, didn't like the feel of the room, the sudden change in the wind. Her mouth set in a frown, jaw working like she had to hold back a few choice words as she contemplated, considering her next move.

Her eyes wandered out of a need to calm herself, to avoid the pow-wow over by the door, and it was then that Shane knew they were lost.

Because her gaze halted on the couch, on the site of Cam's familiar notepad, the one she and him had bonded over, had viewed as vitally important, and she realized that something was amuck.

Shane could only hope that the hurried note Cam had scribbled wouldn't instigate a flurry of rage.

But knowing Cam…

It probably would. He could be a little blunt sometimes.

He…had been, a little-

"What's this?" she asked, striding over to the couch, a woman on a mission, and snatched the notebook up, flipping through Cam's pages. She mouthed the words as she read along, as though to better understand it, like perhaps if she spoke it to herself she could be in the same mental place Cam had been, and by the end of it her fingers were holding onto the paper so tightly Shane was surprised she hadn't ripped it in two.

When her head whipped back in their direction her eyes were flashing, wrath, pure and simple, and a little betrayal, etched into her features.

"Off to retrieve the equipment," she spat, reading out the words for Dustin and Blake's benefit. "You'll only get in the way, just be patient and stay safe! What the hell is that about?!"

In her fury she somehow maintained the same grace and poise she carried with her naturally, gliding forward to properly glare Shane and Hunter down. "You left to get the-"

Her eyes caught sight of it resting in Hunter's lap, the thing, but she only graced it with a cursory glance before her focus was back on them, taking in the blood and the injuries. It took her a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she stared at their red and watered eyes, gaze flickering between the two of them and she slowly pieced the puzzle together.

It was obvious when she realized it, awareness striking her like a physical blow, forcing her half a step back as her body locked up, shocked, confused, still deliberating.

"Where's Cam?" she whispered, and it was clear it came out softer than she had intended. "Where's Cam?"

Dustin, who had been huddling against Shane's knees, blood be damned, straightened up at the question, realizing that his favorite teammate was, in fact, absent, and for some odd reason continued to be. When they didn't immediately answer the brunette tensed up, eyes slowly turning to focus on Shane, begging for enlightenment.

The…how Shane didn't break down then and there remained a mystery; maybe it was the urgency in Dustin's eyes, how desperately he needed guidance, and Hunter's words echoing unfathomably loud in the back of his skull. Keep it together now, cry later. Cry later even if it seems impossible because it can't just- he couldn't- if he started now he wouldn't be able to stop and they had to get through this. They had to.

"Did they take him?" Dustin asked, hold moving from Shane's knees to his shoulders, expression frantic. "Was he captured? Did the aliens-?"

"No."

His gaze snapped to Hunter, eyes widening for a split second before he reconsidered, relieved again, because if Cam wasn't captured maybe he had just stayed behind right? In the hallway? Doing Cam-like things that Cam did and everything was fine and they were fine so no one needed to be sad.

The denial was shattered a second later by a righteous Tori, fists tense against her sides and quivering, all of her vibrating with a swell of emotion, eyes beginning to water.

Dustin looked at her, confused. "Tori, what-?"

"They killed him," she choked out, tears pouring down her face as she stared at them, willing any of them to defy her. "He's gone isn't he? He's-"

"Don't, just- don't say that!" Dustin jumped to his feet, hands offered out from his body as he tried to soothe the water ninja, voice wavering as he approached her, so uncollected, so not-Tori. "Don't say that, he's not- that can't-" He stopped with a frantic shake of the head, trying to clear his mind out and search for the appropriate words. "I mean, it can, but it doesn't, it won't-"

"Dustin-"

"Cam's dead."

The words froze them, Dustin holding onto Tori like a lifeline, the blonde rigid in his grasp as they stared, eyes fixed on Hunter, one shocked and the other sorrowful, taking in what he had said.

"There was an explosion," Hunter continued, as calm as his mission debriefings usually were. "He was on the catwalk above us, trying to gain access to…" He motioned to the metal shell resting in his lap, allowing it to speak for itself, and moved on. "And then there was an explosion, on the roof, right next to him. Best I can tell it was…instantaneous, a ceiling beam had…well." He gestured to Shane's knees with an ugly, brown palm, and Shane could feel his stomach heaving, realizing…

He hadn't seen…it would explain the –blood-; Cam hadn't just been crushed, he had to have been im-pale-d.

"There wasn't anything we could have done," Hunter finished, hand flopping back into his lap lifelessly, gaze unfocused and staring off into some distance beyond them being the only crutch he used to get through it.

A horrible lie, so fucking untrue that Shane wanted to cringe. They could've done something; they could've been smart and he could've trusted his stupid gut and aborted this suicide mission before it began. He should have put his foot down, he should have thought it out, he should have fought through the adrenaline and the relief and the weariness and not waited until they were sitting in the enemies hands until he actually put some goddamn thought into the flimsy logic that had sent them on their goose chase.

He should've trusted himself over Cam; he was the leader. He was the one who should have realized that Cam's want for technology was too unusual, that it would have been better to wait, or set up a distraction team or-

There wasn't anything they could have done. Then.

By the time they were climbing up that hill, pathetic and wrecked and shaken yes, there was nothing anyone could have done.

Cam was long gone by then.

And there was nothing any of them could do about that now.

"N…n-no…"

The voice was so heartbroken and choked that Shane didn't dare look upon it, didn't dare see how much Dustin was falling apart, and only his sense of duty, as a friend and teammate, gave him the strength to bear witness to the brunette's cry.

"You're not-" Dustin continued, head shaking steadily as tears leaked down his face, arms wrapped around himself unconsciously as he tried to seek out comfort. "That's not- you can't be right. That's not right. Cam wouldn't-" He swallowed, and finally his eyes tore from the floor, darting between all of them quickly, searching for verification. "Cam wouldn't die, he's Cam. Cam won't- he wouldn't; can't you see that? He's the best out of all of us so he can't-" he spun around, desperate, looking for someone to back his claim and visibly shaking when he realized that none of them were going to. "He's the best," Dustin echoed, tinge of hysterics in his voice. "He's the smartest and he's trained the longest and if anyone was going to- it wouldn't be him, it wouldn't be! Stop it!" he shouted, Tori and Shane flinching away from the sudden bellow, Hunter and Blake, the red ranger noted, watching on with resigned pity.

"You're wrong!" Dustin continued. "You're wrong Hunter; he wouldn't- He can't…"

Dustin trailed off and almost collapsed in on himself, chin resting against his chest as he curled himself into the smallest shape he could manage, openly weeping. "He can't…"

His gaze dropped, traveling across the floor until they land on Shane's legs, as though they were their indisputable proof, and he shuddered, sobs wracking through his body. "He can't," Dustin echoed, choking out the words.

He left them with that argument, retreating into the locker room, stumbling.

Shane rose to follow after him automatically, almost got to moving until Blake's hand pressed against his chest, halting him.

"The blood Shane," he whispered, nodding down as though the red ranger could have possibly forgotten what the fuck he was referring to. Unaware of his anger, Blake continued. "You should probably wash up first. I'll take care of him."

"Here." Shane grabbed at the younger Bradley's shoulder before he was out of range, suddenly possessed by a new mission. Blake's quizzical expression changed to one of understanding once he noticed the green samurai amulet around Shane's neck, and accepted it with a solemn nod, knowing without Shane having to say who it was intended for.

If there was anyone it would bring comfort to, bring even the slightest amount of closure, it would be Dustin.

"I can't believe…" Tori shook her head, face contorted in a broken frown, taking in a shuddered breath. "He's really dead, isn't he?"

"I'm sorry," Shane offered, the only thing he really had left, as nothing as it was.

Tori sobbed, wrapping her arms across her torso protectively and said nothing, slowly retreating into the locker-room after the other two rangers, not once glancing behind.

"I'm sorry," Shane repeated, sound swallowed up in the dark corners of the room. The effort was as meaningless as the words were, but he had to say them.

Because maybe if he said them enough times the rest of world would understand his remorse and relieve that weight from his shoulders, whether it was justified or not.

From the corner of his eye he saw Hunter lever himself into the standing position, stumbling only once when he leaned too much of his weight on his injured ankle.

"We should get cleaned up," was what he said out loud.

What Shane heard was, "It's okay to cry now."

For the sake of compromising, he did both; tears rolling down his cheeks as he offered an arm out to Hunter, leading the other teen towards the impromptu bathroom in silence.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

The tiny, dying optimistic part of Shane's brain was grateful for the emotional fog that descended upon him afterwards. It made a process that would have been uncomfortable something he could manage, too out of it to register Hunter pitifully wiping the caked on layers of dirt and sweat away just on the other side of the not-so-big room, managing the best he could with a washcloth that had never done him any harm and a small bucket, to conserve water. Shane should mind more that the process was drawn out and slow and made all the more worse by lack of clothing, by lack of privacy, but at the moment he was simply glad for Hunter's movement. Trivial things like modesty were nothing in comparison to just- having him, there. At least that way Shane knew he was breathing.

Tori had, in her wisdom, left her bag stuffed with clothes behind her, so by the time Shane and Hunter finished up they could abandon their old stuff in the corner with Tori's and dress themselves in things a little less…explosion-ed, rough and dusty though it may be.

By the time they make it back into the main room it was still empty; the once welcoming, even relief-bearing atmosphere sucked dry into a static emptiness, a shell of its previous self.

A stupid thing to note though, nothing had changed.

Aimlessly, Shane wandered over to the couch and settled down, ignoring the spot Cam had inhabited earlier, ignoring the exponential traces the tech had left behind, and focused on breathing. Hunter sat beside him, the equipment still dutifully in his care and resting in his lap, just as it had earlier. They were just…sitting on a couch, just like they had many times.

"This is really happening, isn't it?"

The question sounded just as pathetic out loud as it had in his head, but Shane asked it anyway. Mostly, because it was all he had to say, it was the only conversation starter he had right now, and he desperately needed to hear something other than silence. Something that would nullify the berating words echoing in his head.

"It's not your fault Shane."

"Then whose-?" Shane cut off his words with a bitter grimace, turning towards Hunter as he felt that familiar heat build back up behind his eyes. "Whose is it, Hunter? Because I sure as shit remember Sensei saying I-"

He choked on that, stuttering to a halt as he realized Sensei, Cam's father was- he would have to tell Sensei what had happened, at some point.

If they made it home. If they were that lucky.

"…I'm the leader," Shane croaked, never in his entire life ever feeling less so.

It should have been embarrassing when Hunter pulled him into a hug, resting Shane's head against his shoulder and keeping one, protective arm wrapped around his back. Pitiful, it was just, pitiful- but Shane didn't possess the pride to feel it, had none of it left.

No wonder Hunter had thought so little of him, of all of them. Here Shane couldn't even lead a salvage op without getting someone –killed- and Hunter was supposed to follow along with his ideas? Seriously? Who had Shane been kidding? This was a possibility from the start, with Shane in command. Hunter's discontent had been nothing but justified.

"It's not your fault," Hunter echoed, voice shaky. "You didn't do this; they did."

"I'm supposed to veto bad plans," Shane argued stubbornly, because he was, he was, even though a majority of the bad plans came from him and not Cam; that was his job-

"I thought it was a good idea too," came Hunter's quiet rebuttal. "So did Cam. You couldn't have known."

"And that's supposed to be it?" Shane couldn't let it end like that, even if it was inevitable. "Just, aliens did it and move on, easy as that?"

"You're always going to feel like shit Shane."

The certainty with which he said it was enough to wrack a shudder through the air ninja.

"Trust me," Hunter continued, steady enough despite the slight waver. "I can speak from experience, you will always feel bad. But if you focus on it…" The grip on Shane's arm tightened in a painful way, but he was grateful for it, glad for the distraction, for the confirmation he could feel. "If the only thing you do is grieve? They win, okay? You never get anything done and they win."

This conversation, Shane realized, was actually more personal than the shared cleaning time before; Hunter baring a piece of his mindset before Shane, his coping method, the one he must have gained from losing his parents.

Hunter was sharing from experience.

"So feel like shit," Hunter continued. "Feel bad, but use it, okay? Use it for something. Because otherwise you're just going to be very bitter and very angry and have very little to do about it, got it?"

"Use it," Shane echoed, nodding against Hunter's chest, and the nails must be biting into his skin but he doesn't care, he could take it, in exchange for Hunter giving this.

"Exactly." Hunter was shaking, quivering from unshed tears, reliving past memories. "Take it and shove it in the back of your mind so you can function, but remember it's there. Remember it so that when you need it? When you need that anger and that bitterness to numb you for the hard things? It's there, waiting."

Shane could feel the warm breath ghosting over his head; a gradual sigh that released most of the tension in Hunter's body and in some way, Shane couldn't help but be glad that Hunter was released of that one burden. Even if…no, no more of that. If he continued like that Shane would be missing the entire point.

"Is that how you-?"

"Yes."

And after that they fell into silence, one coping mechanism shared between the two of them, reaching out towards survival, huddled on some couch so far away from home and so stupidly detached from everything they knew.

Push it away. Take a moment to mourn and then push it away so he could move on. So he could lead.

Because someone had to, for Dustin and Tori, and Hunter knew it couldn't be him.

So Shane did that. He stayed, leaning against Hunter, and made himself learn how to function, processing what had happened and considering what needed to be done next.

He liked to think that if Cam were present, he would have appreciated the effort.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

Shane must have fallen asleep at some point during his mental re-evaluation because when his eyes pried open the rest of the team had returned to the main room. Blake had managed to corner his brother on the couch; the blond having kept his position beside Shane. The younger Bradley was doing his best to convey both frustration and comfort all in one hard stare, delivered periodically when he took a break from wrapping Hunter's ankle. The sprain; he must have found out about it, but with the given circumstances the navy ranger was feeling generous enough to abstain from doling out lectures, settling for his irritated glares instead. It was loving for the most part, at least tolerable for Hunter who accepted the attention without complaint, fingers trailing along the top of Cam's equipment, still nestled in his lap.

Beyond them, Dustin was huddled on the loveseat, gaze fixed towards the door, dressed in faded military fatigues with his curls damp and plastered against his head, scrubbed clean. One hand fiddled around the edge of his collar, rolling something between his fingers, and his knees were drawn up to his chest, taking up as least space as possible. For comfort, probably. Despite the occasional comments traded between Hunter and Blake, quiet barbs and gentle nudges, his eyes stayed resolutely on the doorway.

Shane would bet anything it was because Dustin was still waiting for Cam to come waltzing through that opening, still disbelieving, still hopeful, but knew ultimately he couldn't. He wanted to cling to the delusion that Dustin wasn't going to get trapped in this.

Though perhaps that was too quick a judgment; it had only been…hours, maybe? Had it even been that?

Shane didn't want to think about it and desperately moved on, shaking his head. There was one teammate still unaccounted for, so where was…?

"Stop moving," Tori warned, voice quiet, and it was then Shane felt it, a delicate touch against his forehead, where he had been wounded earlier. "I need to clean this out."

Obediently, Shane held still, but allowed his eyes to travel, taking in Tori's expression. She was focused, intent on her task and competent in her efforts, as she usually was, but beneath that Shane could see she was tense, eyes swollen and red from past tears. She was holding it together because they had to right now, but she wasn't happy about it. Her entire disposition radiated silent anger. Dustin would be the only one to miss it, which was probably the point, because Dustin wasn't in any state to deal with it now anyway and it wasn't like the earth ninja was the one Tori was mad at.

That was all Shane.

"Tori-" Shane tried, attempting to explain himself, his support, how he hated himself too, but she cut him off with the shake of a head.

"I brought shoes back for you too," she continued blithely, talking over him. "You should grab some, after I finish cleaning this up. Never know when you're going to need to leave."

It hurt, a quick blow to Shane's guilt, and he inhaled quickly, trying to calm himself while he could.

He opened his mouth to argue, to clarify, but Hunter beat him to the chase.

"Stop that," Hunter warned, tone quiet and conversational. "We're not doing that now."

"Oh, we're not?" Tori asked, eyes screaming defiance, her control slipping as her grip on Shane's shoulder got uncomfortably tight. It was Hunter's fault too, Shane realized, so he was just as susceptible to blame as Shane was.

More, perhaps, if Tori considered him of greater rationality.

"No." Hunter's words were delivered coolly, definite and firm. Instead of elaborating he simply turned and nodded thoughtfully in Dustin's direction, the other teen still ignoring them, focused on the doorway.

The simple act was enough to suck the entire fight out of Tori; she visibly deflated, shoulders sagging and grip going loose, staring over at the isolated earth ninja with utter sorrow in her eyes.

Now that she was in a calmer, more reasonable state of mind, Hunter continued, looking between her and Shane. "We're not doing this now. Maybe not ever. It's not going to help us. Right now we need every advantage we can get. If we allow them to get us fighting, to break us apart-"

"Then more of us will die."

Even Hunter looked shocked at the interruption, mouth hanging open as though he didn't quite believe someone else had spoken. He managed to hide it though, masking his surprise with composed interest as he looked over to Dustin who still, despite his interjection, kept his eyes away from them, hand still worrying at the collar of his shirt.

On further inspection, Shane could see in the glints of candlelight it was the Samurai amulet he had held between his fingers, latched on like a lifeline.

"I still can't believe…" He shook his head and turned towards them, tired and defeated, gnawing at his bottom lip in a poor attempt to gather himself. "But it's really happening, isn't it?" he asked, looking between them. "Cam's really not-"

He couldn't quite make it, wasn't mentally prepared enough to get the word out and he choked on it instead, tucking his chin against his chest until he could compose himself. They didn't press him, waiting until he had taken a few slow, prolonged breaths, simply waiting for him to continue his piece because they knew, or at least, Tori and Shane knew, that Dustin wasn't done yet.

When he looked back up at them his eyes were watery, but damned if they were resolute as hell, swallowing his tears down as he stared at each of them, with purpose.

"And if that's true," he continued. "Then we've got to decide what to do next. What to do to make…that worth it."

He held onto it for just a few seconds longer, letting them know there was no room for argument. As soon as he felt this was communicated he seemed to crumble again, resting his forehead against his knees with a quiet snuffle. Tori looked torn, glancing between Shane and Dustin, and the air ninja waved her on, relieving her of the small alcohol wipe and taking care of his wound himself. It was all the encouragement Tori needed before she launched herself to Dustin's side, wrapping her arms around the quietly crying teen. Trying to console the inconsolable.

An impossible task, but if anyone were capable of it, if anyone would try, it would be Tori.

"Gimme that."

It was all the warning Shane got before Hunter's fingers tangled with his, taking control of the head-cleaning operation with a quiet humph.

"Wha-?"

"You can't even see what you're doing," Hunter continued, tone somewhat akin to that special kind of reproach he reserved for Blake alone, -Cam- on rare occasions, an attempted lecture that failed to hide any kind of fondness.

It was…something. This was something.

Generosity though, that was what it was. Hunter allowing him this kindness out of pity, because Shane was this close to breaking and he needed it.

God, he didn't know what they would do if they lost Hunter. If Hunter died-

Shane didn't want to think about it; the very thought making his stomach threaten immediate and humiliating expulsion, because as much as he hated it, or maybe would have hated it before, they desperately needed Hunter.

So…no more that. None of that. He was done now.

"That's rich coming from Mr. 'Tries to wrap his own leg when no one's looking."

"You were busy," Hunter countered, coolly deflecting his brother's jibe as he kept focused on cleaning out Shane's cut, all three of them consciously ignoring the consolation happening on the loveseat.

"Sure I was Hunter." Blake gave up any of his lectures for tired resignment, pulling the bandages around Hunter's ankle just a little too tight instead. "Sure I was."

"Hey, uh…enough of…" Dustin tilted his head up, peaking over the tops of his knees as he studied them with bleary eyes. "I mean, not to…interrupt because you guys deserve-"

"It's okay Dustin," Blake said, sounding…not pitying, but supportive.

Because they were a team, and that's what they needed right now.

The brunette considered them for a second, making sure his interruption wasn't intruding on something they needed, their little Bradley-bicker time, and nodded, unconsciously leaning into Tori's side, her arm trailing across his shoulders.

"Well I, uh…" he trailed off as his throat caught, phlegm stubbornly refusing to leave, and he cleared it quickly, eyes cast to the side, embarrassed by his sudden outbreak. "I mean, if he's…you know, then what exactly did you guys get?"

Which was…kind've a good question.

And one Shane and Hunter hadn't bothered to consider, given the rather miserable news they had carried back with them.

Dustin continued, staring at them earnestly, fingers restless against the tops of his knees. "What was it Cam was looking for?"

Shane, in that horrible, drawn out second of silence, felt like the most terrible leader all over again because he could not, for the life of him, give Dustin an answer. He had no idea. The thing was, to the average, non-intellectually gifted person's eye just sort of this metal…half egg thing, almost like a turtle shell, about the size of a small backpack. There were these sort of latch looking things on the areas Shane would be most comfortable labeling "corners", even though it was rounded, the top and bottom right and left of the egg, which made it appear as though it could latch onto something. That was probably what made Shane's mind label it a backpack, because that was its inferred purpose.

But a futuristic backpack was in no fucking way worth dying for. There had to be more to it.

The air ninja watched as Hunter carefully inspected the thing, running his fingers across its smooth, seamless surface. By weight and heft the thing had to be filled, but whatever was inside must have been fixed into position because whenever it moved there was no sounds of inner-shifting, no feel of loose items rumbling about. It was packed tight or soldered down, making Shane wonder if this thing they had strived for, this piece the aliens so desperately wanted, if it was equipment at all, or merely some high-tech containment device for keeping things safe. A safe within a safe, one only humans could get to.

Hunter gripped each side and leveled the thing up to his face, inspecting the flat side intensely, looking for a break in the paneling, or whatever the hell it was called. Something so he could get inside.

"We may," Hunter began, frowning as his studies continued to reveal nothing. "Or may not, be entirely sure exactly what-"

He winked.

It hadn't been intentional. Hunter hadn't meant to engage in the action either; it had merely been a coincidence of wanting to get a better look at one specific area of the equipment. It was kind've…dumb, that little mental attitude that convinced you losing vision in one eye somehow increased the precision of the other, it was dumb but Shane knew they all did it, just like Hunter did it, because he was a thorough individual, and even the theory that a thing might not work was no reason not to give it a try, especially if the cost was next to nothing.

So Hunter winked. And then things changed.

Shane understood why the blond did it, because Shane had seen it too. The section that had been under Hunter's inspection, the one Shane had noticed, seemed…slightly different than the rest of the equipment. It almost looked like a trick of the light, or the result of tired eyes and too many hours in action, but there had been this one spot that looked almost like a seam. Like a crack. Shane had assumed he was seeing things, thought maybe it was a shared delusion when Hunter went to investigate it as well, but then he was very quickly, and very thoroughly, proven wrong.

It was a seam.

The metal seemed to react to Hunter - how, the air ninja would never know - and the moment the crimson ranger drew his eye close enough the hidden seam pulled apart, first down and then a second panel underneath it sliding outwards, revealing a tiny, inset rectangle, almost like the viewfinder of a camera.

Both Shane and Blake had an hand on Hunter's shoulders as soon as their reactions would allow; Blake going so far as to grab a hand at the equipment, preparing to wretch it away (please, please, they didn't need more tragedies today, please-) but Hunter held still, posed as a perfect statue as a slow line of light traveled across his face.

Were Shane to describe it as best he could, he would say it almost looked like it was…scanning him.

No, it was more focused than that. It was scanning Hunter's eye.

For what though? For…humanity? Was that they key to get it open, did the aliens just need an eye-?

"Verify: unknown human," a voice, quiet and precise, emanated from the device. "Initiate startup sequence?"

"Sure," Hunter replied, pulling away from the device in one smooth movement, resting the thing back onto his lap with a level of calmness one should not posses when initiating conversations with foreign devices of unknown technological advancement.

Blake cocked his head to the side, considering the equipment with narrowed eyes. "Did it just…?"

"Quiet," Hunter ordered, gaining a greatly put-upon eye roll from his brother. "It's initiating a startup sequence."

"Yeah but…" Shane almost stopped when Hunter threw an irritated look his way, but decided his point was worth mentioning. "…couldn't that be, you know, bad?"

Hunter deliberated this, eyes looking up at the ceiling as though they could contain the answers he was looking for. "Possibly," he admitted. "I suppose I should…"

Further conversation was cut off by a new rearrangement of panels, the eye-scanning thing stealing away from back whence it came in favor of utilizing the other side of the egg-device, the rounded hump. Hunter flipped it in his lap to allow them a better view of it, expression going from thoughtful to impressed as a bigger recess was revealed, a small, circular platform near the "top" part of the backpack, where it would be closest to a person's head. It almost looked, in a way, like the holo-projectors Cam had created for Cyber Cam's usage, allowing the program to create a physical manifestation…

It was with that thought in mind that kept Shane from being surprised at the small, humanoid body appearing in a flash of green light. Maybe six inches tall, the thing, clearly based on a human body, projected itself; ethereal wisps of light dancing around its appendages, melding into the more solidly defined aspects of the hologram spontaneously, constantly changing. It had hair even, or the closest thing Shane could conceive as hair, wild and shifting, cascading around that small, iridescent body. In a way, it was more comfortable than unsettling. Part of that could be attributed to its size or its human-like appearance, but if Shane were being honest it probably had more to do with the fact it was designed after a female, which gave it a kind of majestic like feeling. Like something straight from a Fairy Tale.

"Greetings," the voice, smooth and measured, rang out. It didn't quite sound natural, though Shane was unsure if that was because of the digital like quality to the voice itself or the fact it had originated from what was essentially a small, metal backpack, but either way, it was distinctly female, making his assumption correct. "I am the Freelancer Independent Logistics and Integrated Security System; you may call me Filiss, how may I assist-?"

The voice cut off and Shane caught both himself and Hunter leaning forward, as though they could recapture it by closer proximity. Across the room Dustin and Tori looked on with wide eyes, still taken aback by the sudden manifestation.

"Oh," the voice restarted after a pause, quieter and…perhaps more saddened than before. The free-floating light tendrils seemed to respond to the change of mood, sagging down under an invisible weight, losing their previous whimsy.

"You are not Agent Cal. I had been hoping…is he there, with you?"

It took Shane a moment to find his voice after her- it was- there was no question it was a her. The undeniable hope in her voice and the resignation, like she knew but she had to try, like they had to try-

"No," Hunter answered for him, giving Shane a tight frown before looking back at…Filiss. "It's just us."

"Oh," the voice…hologram echoed again, and for a brief second her light flickered dull, fading in the darkness of the room, before returning to her original brightness. "That is…unfortunate."

"Who is he?"

Shane had been so focused on the tiny projection that he almost missed Dustin's question, only caught the tail end of it because the tiny form swiveled towards him, responding to the brunette's voice.

"Agent Cal, I mean," Dustin continued nervously, shrinking back against Tori now that he was under the hologram's gaze.

"Agent Cal is a member of Project Freelancer," the program explained, sounding almost…gentle. But not quite. "He was assigned to evacuation detail for the Zhar-ptitsa colonists."

"What's Project Freelancer?" Dustin seemed to gather more courage as he grew accustomed to the small image's stare.

"Of course," the small head bobbed up and down, thoughtful. "I forgot most colonists are still unfamiliar. Project Freelancer is a specialized force working under the Army branch of the United States of America's military. The purpose of Project Freelancer is to provide support and operatives for missions requiring unique and atypical skill sets."

Filiss didn't so much as turn as she did shift, phasing her body until it was facing the two red rangers, the light rearranging with inhuman ease. "The last directive given to me by Agent Cal was to assist the Zhar-ptitsa colonists in any way applicable, should I be activated. I was under the assumption, given our parting ways, that I was to stay deactivated until the invasion had been quelled, or sufficient reinforcements had been obtained. May I ask which of these two outcomes has occurred?"

Shane glanced over, sharing a quick look with Hunter and knowing, realizing in that second, if things were that bad out there, if this place was abandoned and only robots remained, there weren't any reinforcements. And the invasion sure as hell hadn't been quelled.

"Neither, I'm afraid," Hunter said at last, fingers tightening against the edge of the equipment.

"I feared as much," Filiss replied, sounding almost forlorn and fading- a flaw, maybe, or a signal, to make her more relatable. More palatable, for humans.

"What are you?" Shane asked, watching the lights trail around her as she turned, face too brightly lit to make out any definite features.

He had an idea, they all did, they were all so familiar with Cyber –Cam- but he just…he wanted a verbal confirmation. He wanted to focus on this little thing before the buzzing words of Project Freelancer, Agent Cal, and colonists took over his thoughts in their constant loop, threatening to overwhelm him.

He focused on the little things, taking it one step at a time, asking for verification of something he was already certain of.

Just so they knew what they were dealing with.

"I am the Freelancer Independent Logistics and Integrated Security System," Filiss repeated. "I am an AI that was programmed by Project Freelancer to moderate all data collected by our operatives and, should it be necessary, influence any foreign programming that has proven to be a threat to national security. This mission," Filiss continued, form slowly rotating so that she was "looking" at each of them. "I was assigned to Agent Cal to provide support. As we could only manage the resources to send one agent, it was important for him to be as best equipped as possible to mitigate the risk of mission failure."

And that was- that was so painfully like Cyber Cam it almost hurt; a quiet bite in the back of Shane's mind whenever he though he had just managed to numb himself enough. He looked to Hunter, the blond still focused intently on the green projection, determined and thoughtful, and Shane resolved to keep himself together. Hunter could do it; Shane needed to as well.

That was his role here.

When he broke out of his depressed fog Tori was talking, arm still possessively around Dustin, like a shield against the unknown. "What exactly was your mission?" she asked. And really, that was the question wasn't it.

What was any of this? Project Freelancer, a Russian colony, space invaders? What was any of this?

That small, delicate head tilted to the side, considering them, maybe, properly conveying confusion and looked back over her shoulder, up towards Hunter, the one who was closest.

"You do not know?" she asked, bewildered by this idea.

To his credit, Hunter's poker face of quiet focus didn't so much as wince, didn't shift at all, and he carried on the conversation smoothly, without edge. "We're kind of new here," he explained. "Just…treat us like we're completely ignorant."

Filiss considered him for a moment, making Shane think it wouldn't work - she'd call their bluff and deactivate and then where would they be – but then she was nodding, this miniscule shift of light relieving the tension that had swamped Shane in a ridiculous way, for something so insignificant, and then she was talking.

"A solid way to cover a lack of understanding," Filiss allowed. "I will start at the beginning then."

They all lurched forward as soon as her light disappeared, body dissipated away into darkness. Shane had his third mini heart attack in five minutes and feared that was it then, they were done, but then the light came back on, projecting a big, rectangular sign with a foreign logo, printed in what was probably Russian.

"Five years ago the Russian Federal Space Agency launched a foreign world habitation initiative, codename Zhar-ptitsa. The intent of this initiative was to locate and colonize a planet that was habitable by humans."

The rectangle shifted into a round, glowing sphere - the planet - Shane assumed. It was almost akin to Earth in a way, with rough, craggy masses serving as the land, separated by shifting swirls of water; continents and oceans melded together seamlessly.

"After two years of searching, a suitable planet was located and settlements were created. Initially, the participants of Zhar-ptitsa met no resistance and were free to carry out their research and investigation as intended, performing experiments in bio engineering, for acceptable nourishment, and terraforming, inspecting the life that already inhabited this planet, codename: Vasilisa."

"Phase one was successful; establishing a safe and permanent base of operations and a stable line of communication back to the Russian Federal Space Agency."

"I'm guessing all the other phases weren't quite as triumphant," Hunter interrupted dryly, already seeing how things panned out.

It was the same story Earth had already seen about a dozen times. Things would be going along, smooth as can be and then – bam – aliens.

Always with the aliens.

"That would be correct," Filiss replied. "About a year into settlement the colonists fell under attack. We do not know the exact name for them, but Zhar-ptitsa came to give them the designation Koshmar."

The image changed again, the outline of the hulking aliens just as frighteningly horrible five inches tall as they had been in real life. It wasn't a static picture, not just a rendered model; the small representation was moving, back heaving as though it had lungs to breathe, shifting in that slightness only alive things managed when standing completely still.

It wasn't a pleasant picture for any of them, not now, but after viewing the lifeless bodies, the shells and husks and knowing the extent of the Koshmar's destruction, it struck at Shane's weak spots, still uneasy from the…things.

His face, he was sure he had kept it neutral despite the fact none of them were looking at him right now, but despite that Hunter had noticed his discomfort. There was something insanely relieving about how the blond leaned his shoulder against Shane's arm, never once letting his focus waver from the image before him, still…aware enough to do that much. It shouldn't have made that much of a difference.

It did though. Shane leaned back unashamedly, fighting off the wave of sickness that hit his stomach, and breathed in deeply, keeping his eyes forward.

Keep it together.

Push it away.

Use it.

"The exact reason for the Koshmar's attacks has never been identified, though there are theories. As they have never initiated any direct contact with the Zhar-ptitsa colonists and no formal declaration of war was made, it was assumed that their feud had never been negotiable."

The alien faded away finally, light collapsing back into the holoprojector. Shane released a breath of air he hadn't known he was holding, the tightness in his chest loosening in the shadowed comfort of their room.

Of Hunter's shoulder against his.

When the light returned, the image had blossomed into a small flower, stray wisps circling around its base like constantly shifting soil.

"The predominate theory behind the Koshmar's invasion related to the terraforming experiments conducted by the colonists. The initial assaults did not occur until the colonists had begun to produce successful results with their experiments-"

"But uh…"

And in a second Filiss reappeared, replacing her artistic flower and facing Dustin, head cocked to the side in an almost…patient kind of way. Something about her mannerisms conveying "carry on".

It was with that subtle encouragement that Dustin spoke, glancing at Tori quickly as though to ask permission, if his interruption was okay, only continuing on her quiet approval.

"What exactly is terraforming?"

"An excellent question," Filiss replied, and Shane could almost see the relief emanating from Dustin, so glad that he hadn't been shot down as he sagged against Tori, spent. Tired and nervous.

Not used to aiming questions towards people who weren't Cam.

Filiss' "body" disappeared again, and instead of the flower they were treated with images of mushrooms and fruits of various sizes, rotating slowly to allow them a full view.

"The long term plan for Vasilisa had been to not only find a world capable of human colonization, but a place specifically intended towards scientific advancements. It was ultimately designed to be a place of investigative freedom, an escape from political, religious, and public scrutiny. In this instance, the focus of Zhar-ptitsa's first scientific team was on terraforming. As the initial phase of settling on Vasilisa was to make it inhabitable, this was a logical choice."

Tori's eyebrows furrowed, displeased with the slow moving backstory, and began to object. "But what is-?"

"Terraforming," Filiss continued, volume and pace constant, giving no indication of Tori's interruption. "Or Zemlyaformirovaniya-"

"That's a mouthful," Blake murmured, only earning an irritated swat from Hunter for his efforts.

"-is not necessarily a new field of science, though for Zhar-ptitsa's particular applications, it could be easily argued that they reinvented the discipline. Depending on your familiarity with Vasilisa, you may be aware of the numerous fruits, vegetables, and other plant life that has been seamlessly integrated in the wild-"

"Cam said-"

The words were out before Shane could consider them, had thought he kept them to himself until the others snapped their heads toward him, some gazes sharper than others for merely speaking the name, others saddened. Shane stumbled, fumbling with his words, trapped there, until he felt a pressure sliding lightly against his thigh.

Without looking, he knew it was Hunter's hand, warning him to pull it together before they got stuck in this.

Shane moved on, recollecting his train of thought. Taking a deep breath, he started again. "Cam said the wildlife, the plants we were seeing, some of them shouldn't have been able to grow in this climate."

"Originally yes, that had been the case," Filiss replied, her small form replacing the plants from earlier, glowing face turned in his direction. "Based on their inherent molecular make up Earth plants require certain conditions in order to properly grow and flourish. To thrive, they are designed to prosper in certain circumstances, influenced by temperature, moisture, radiant energy, supply of mineral nutrients, and soil composition."

"That's just how plants are, right?" Tori offered quietly, eyes considering as she processed the information Filiss gave them. "They all have certain seasons?"

"On Earth," Filiss began. "This is true."

"But it's not true here?" Tori asked. "On Vasilisa?"

"It was a truth Zhar-ptitsa's scientists had worked to eliminate. To abolish an undisputed fact."

"That sounds…incredibly creepy," Blake murmured, and this time his effort earned him no irritated glares because it was, at this point, true.

Shane remembered the quiet arguments his parents used to have whenever they thought he and his sister Dana were out of earshot; bitter, hushed words traded between them about scientists playing God. He couldn't remember now, who had been on what side. If there even had been differing sides of if they were sharing their discourse together, unifying themselves with displeasure and righteousness.

Who knew, really?

"It is not how it sounds," Filiss argued, recapturing some of Shane's attention into the present. It was split between that and Hunter's hand still resting on his thigh, some bizarre new kind of normality.

Thing was, Shane couldn't find it in him to complain.

In the background, Filiss continued, "The intent had been one of practicality, rather than absolute control. Obviously there was a need for transferring plants native to Earth onto Vasilisa to provide sustenance to guarantee prolonged survival. Despite preparing for extensive travel, Zhar-ptitsa had limited food storage. It was only sensible that they eventually become self-sustaining."

"Meaning they farm their own food." Tori's interjection was more for Dustin's benefit than her's, keeping the brunette in the loop when he didn't have it in him to ask himself. Beside her, the earth ninja gave her a grateful look, chin settling back against his knees with a little less anxiety.

"Or engineer it," Hunter offered, contempt a distant but notable thing in his voice.

The hand on his thigh gave a tentative squeeze, though for what Shane was unsure. Solidarity was the only thing he could think of, or maybe a kind of check in, Hunter communicating he was still in control, despite what he might say.

He needed it, Shane realized. He needed something to ground him almost as badly as Shane needed the touch.

Co-dependency, Cam would call it. Good for teamwork; bad if excessive. There would be a line that needed to be drawn somewhere, Shane thought.

But it wasn't going to happen today.

"Correct," Filiss replied, either not detecting or not addressing Hunter's displeasure. "It took quite a bit of study on behalf of the botanists, but eventually the tests began producing positive results. Durable crops, ones that could thrive under any condition, were created, one of the most significant advancements in the field to date."

"But if that's true, why didn't Earth hear about it?" The rest of the room turned their attention to Tori, the blonde ranger worrying at her bottom lip in an uneasy manner. "That sounds too remarkable to be kept secret. Someone would want to brag about it."

"Indeed." There was something almost humorous about the small projection agreeing with Tori, female to female, knowing too well suspicious things were afoot. "While the Zhar-ptitsa's success was reported to the Russian Federal Space Agency, it was not released to the public. This was mostly due to the lack of progress with recreating the successes made on Vasilisa."

"They tried to…redo the experiments on Earth?" Shane asked, head swimming with the influx of information.

To this point, he was impressed that they, as a group, had managed to keep it together for this long, though there was a good chance they were simply riding the waves of it like Shane was, too tired to really question what was happening.

"Yes." Filiss nodded sagely, as though appreciating his elaboration. "But the results could not be reproduced. Despite following the Zhar-ptitsa's instructions to the letter, the plants simply continued to exist as they did in nature. Only durable in their proper climate and season."

"So there was something on the planet right?" Blake asked, eyes the sharpest and most clear among them. "Something on Vasilisa that wasn't on Earth?"

"That was their thought," Filiss agreed. "A logical inference."

The small, intangible body made another sweep around the projector, pausing as she glanced at each of them, carefully.

Building up the suspense then, Shane knew where this was going.

Things were about to go bad.

"Based on this thinking, the botanists began researching what it was about Vasilisa that made the plants thrive. It was promising research," she explained, methodical and quiet. "Preliminary testing revealed an additional element that had gone unnoticed in the early experiments."

She turned towards Hunter - the largest, to her - one hand still firmly on the shell of her unit, still watching her intently.

"That was all the information the Zhar-ptitsa managed to gather before the invasion began."

Just as Shane suspected.

Filiss continued, calm tones floating over the team, Shane and Tori tense and unhappy, Dustin withdrawn, Blake and Hunter keeping to their poker faces. This was the unpleasant part of the story. The fall.

"Zhar-ptitsa only attempted to make contact once," Filiss explained. "As their initiative was intended to explore unreached territories, the Russian Federal Space Agency had armed them and assigned a security team to the project, but ultimately, these were people of science."

"Did they kill them?" Dustin asked quietly, hands tightening their hold against his knees, quivering, almost like he couldn't bear it.

Even though he already knew the answer.

"The Koshmar eradicated the initial contact team." The tendrils floating around Filiss took on their melancholy, resigned motions again, sagging around her body, quietly mourning. "No further attempts at contact were made."

"What happened next?" Shane asked, throat dry, catching his words, but he pushed through. They needed to know.

"Constant assault," Filiss answered, tone conveying an edge of finality. "The Zhar-ptitsa went on the defensive, pulling all their people back into emergency bases, such as this one, before planning a new approach. Based on the focus of the Koshmar's advances, the colonists theorized their interest was on the terraforming experiments."

Her body solidified, brighter, more like her normal state of appearance, Shane suspected, and Filiss' tone became conversational again, driven by her interest. "Based on the Koshmar's maneuvers, Agent Cal believed they were already familiar with Vasilisa. Judged by their response time alone between the discovery of the new element and their first assaults, Agent Cal supposed that the Koshmar had been monitoring the Zhar-ptitsa's movements on the planet. It may have been part of their claimed territory."

"But if that's true, why didn't they try to boot them off when the colonists first showed up?" Tori asked, voice shaky but her eyes stubbornly focused.

A woman on a mission. She wanted answers.

"Most likely the Koshmar didn't perceive the colonists as a threat," Filiss explained, carefully disregarding the fact that was entirely accurate. "They were harmless. Probably a source of entertainment, something for them to study."

"But then they figured out something big." Hunter's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes staring off to the side as his mind raced, putting the pieces together. "Something the Koshmar hadn't been able to figure out for themselves, and then the colonists weren't harmless anymore."

Filiss paused for a moment, tendrils flowing with a smooth, languid grace, and it looked like she was considering Hunter, almost. Evaluating his worth.

But then she was nodding and the conversation continued, and Shane got lost in it.

"That is the theory," Filiss admitted quietly. "When they did not resort to…extermination, the Koshmar abducted instead. Hypothetically, to study the colonists."

Or torture them, Shane thought.

Or study through torture, but Shane wasn't honestly cruel enough to vocalize what everyone else was probably thinking and, truly, if they had managed to escape that thought on their own he sure as hell didn't want to be the one to drag that ignorant soul down with him.

"But what about the…the robots?" Dustin asked, eyes red and threatening the tell tale sign of tears. "Were those from the Russian Federal Space Agency?"

"No," Filiss replied, hair swirling around her as she faced the earth ninja, light dimming somewhat, lowering the intensity. "The machines are of Koshmar origin, it was through the efforts of Agent Cal and myself that we managed to reprogram them."

Shane could see it, like a distant memory, entering that abandoned facility. The doors had been larger than he expected but he just figured, you know, space, so why not. He never even realized the building hadn't been designed for humans.

There was also a quiet flashback to just a few minutes ago, when he was still bewildered and dazed by this glowing projection before him. The informative words echoing in his head, "…should it be necessary, influence any foreign programming that has proven to be a threat to national security".

There was a threat. Filiss took care of it.

Something so small just…she beat them.

That should be frightening.

Shane was snapped back into the conversation by Hunter's authoritative voice beside him, intent and curious, staring down Filiss' form with narrowed eyes. "You said Project Freelancer was a part of the US Army. If that's the case, what the hell was your Agent doing helping out Mother Russia?"

"Despite the numerous advancements in technology and weaponry, it seemed the Russian Federal Space Agency was unable to get a ship anywhere near Vasilisa without being detected and destroyed by the Koshmar. As a result, they had to turn towards other sources in order to provide back up for the colonists. Sources who have more resources at their disposal. In the end, only Project Freelancer had the capacity they were searching for, because only Project Freelancer had the technology they sought. If you are seeking the political answer," Filiss continued, addressing Hunter's initial question, face cocked towards the blond ranger towering above her. "Then it was a gesture of goodwill. One country with experience in advanced space exploration to another."

"And if I wasn't…" Hunter prompted, eyes narrowed.

"Project Freelancer is an espionage group, focusing on things considered unique and atypical. They were aware of Zhar-ptitsa's launch, but beyond that, they were unable to gather further details. Certainly not enough to appease the Director."

There was no halting, no jerked or fumbled movements whenever her head slowly tilted towards the other side, innocent, informative, and perfectly measured.

"It should come as no surprise then," Filiss continued. "That the moment they were given the opportunity to learn more, they took it."

Or, the Director…whoever he was, took it.

Probably the guy in charge then.

"But what made Project Freelancer more special than the Russian Federal guys?" Dustin asked, leaning his body against Tori but, thankfully, focused on Filiss instead of his grief. "Why did…does Project Freelancer have better technology than the Russians?"

"The answer is simple."

She was adapting, Shane realized, for whenever she addressed certain individuals. For Dustin her projection would dim, lessen in intensity, and her voice would be calmer, more soothing. It was with his focus on that revelation that Shane almost missed the rest of Filiss' explanation, but her following words were triggers, ones imbedded into his brain with the same familiarity as his own name.

"Power Rangers," Filiss continued, helpful, informative.

The team did a remarkable job of not reacting, even Dustin, who buried his face against Tori's shoulder, hiding his expression so he'd have no need to school it. Tori's hands were tense, she was shaking, slightly, the barest hints of a tremor wracking her frame, but her face remained deadpan.

Shane himself felt too…deadened to react, had been lost in his own thoughts anyway, so the growing pressure on his thigh, Hunter's grip, was more than enough to keep him in line.

Blake and Hunter were fine of course, because they were better trained, more hardened individuals, whose only discernable tell was increased interest.

Their reactions had been slight.

Filiss noticed them anyway. "You are familiar with them, then?"

"Yes," Hunter responded.

"The Russian Federal Space Agency was not."

The reply almost seemed definite, sealing the unfamiliar colonists' fates on that alone. Luckily Filiss didn't pick up on the sudden gloom she impressed upon them.

She continued on with her explanation, none the wiser. "By presence alone the Power Rangers have spurred technological advancements in the United States since the initial assaults from Rita Repulsa. Organizations such as Lightspeed have even gone so far as to access the Ranger powers and create their own unique set of weaponry. Because of this, and the focus of attacks on the United States, Project Freelancer has managed to glean information from the Lightspeed Organization, Bio Labs, and the Galactic Space Alliance."

"They recreated ranger technology?" Blake asked, sounding far calmer than Shane would have ever been able to manage.

It sounded horrifying, the idea that this organization, these specialist, Director-driven, whatever people had managed to get their hands on Ranger tech, and actually understood it well enough to build their own versions?

Terrifying.

Shane waited, seconds extended painfully long, for Filiss' response, dreading a confirmation.

When she said "Not quite", he knew he wasn't the only person in the room who was overcome with relief.

He wasn't sure why that sounded so horrible, only that it was.

…though maybe if…you know, if they used it for good. Then it would just be like having other rangers-

No.

No, it wouldn't be. It would be something else. Something he shouldn't think about.

"No," Filiss was saying. "It appeared that Project Freelancer, as with Bio Labs, could not establish a link to whatever it was that powered the Ranger's weaponry. However, information was gathered that helped in the advancement of the Project's already impressive weapon sets. Travel, defense, medical, and projectile components were improved to new and unseen levels. Because of this, Project Freelancer had the edge they needed to be recruited by the Russian Federal Space Agency."

"So they had these…advancements," Hunter started, running a distracted hand through his hair while thinking. He chose to release his hold on the equipment rather than Shane's thigh, which- it meant something, but then those eyes were forward again, focused, intent. "But for some odd reason your Freelancer guys only felt like sending one agent."

"It was the only way," Filiss argued, not defensive though; a continued explanation. "Analyzing what little data the Russian Federal Space Agency had acquired during their failed advances, it was decided that the only effective approach would stealth-based. A ship of insignificant size and composition had to slip through the Koshmar's notice, either deemed as harmless or too inconsequential to merit any attention. Due to this strategy, Agent Cal was selected for the mission, as a specialist in stealth and concealment, his duty was to aid the colonists. As most of them were not familiar with combat, he was to coordinate any offensive efforts and additionally, perform reconnaissance on the Koshmar, detecting their weaknesses, both physically and as a military whole."

"One guy can make that much difference?" Blake asked, skeptical, clearly, but also a challenge.

One Filiss didn't need to rise too. "Agent Cal could, and did."

"He got the robots on our side," Dustin reminded, meeting Blake's eyes briefly before looking down, away from the conflict.

The small head nodded, green and brilliant, wisps fading. "Yes. Despite their speed and strength, the Koshmar were not as technologically gifted as the colonists were. At least, the attacking force isn't. It was discovered that once they gained access to the machines coding, the colonists could create programming so intricate the Koshmar were hopeless to undo it. This turned the tide of the Vasilian War."

Beside him, Hunter scoffed quietly, the closest thing to an amused chuckle as could be provoked from him. "They had a name for it too," he said softly, for Shane's ears alone.

The bitter sweet tone in his voice was too…familiar, too comfortable for Shane to dwell on, so it came as a relief when the conversation continued, carrying on without them.

"But that wasn't enough, was it?" Tori asked. Her eyes traveled around the room, taking a measured reevaluation of their surroundings, the emptiness of it. Judging just how long it had been abandoned.

Like the factory town.

It seemed, for once, Filiss did not have a definite answer, her tendrils floating around her aimlessly as she considered this query, the silence drawing on longer and longer as she attempted to reason, to provide thoughtful and careful-

Just like Cam would have.

Shane wasn't sure if that was the thought that had him grabbing for Hunter's hand or if it was the entire build up, but either way, he couldn't-

Not alone. He couldn't do this now.

"…I am not sure," Filiss eventually admitted. "I have no way of determining how long I have been deactivated, or the current state of the human resistance."

The fingers didn't respond at first; maybe Hunter was surprised, or distracted (reasonable, they had things they needed to- it was reasonable) but after a second's delay Shane's grip was returned just as strong. Shane from ten-days-ago would mock him for how comfortable it felt, how much easier it was to keep enduring. But Shane of now was the one rocking this particular moment in time and if something as simple as this got him through the next two minutes without screaming then damnit, he would take what he could get.

It would get easier, he hoped.

The vague possibility of it not frightened him, but he didn't dare entertain the thought.

Filiss was thinking, form shifting in a frantic flutter as though to broadcast this – Cam would have loved studying her, investigating all the subtle nuances of her communication, her movement – before it all eventually came to a sudden halt, her body solid, posed still, firm.

"Though perhaps," she began, quiet, almost harmless, but that enough to fill Shane's stomach with dread. "Perhaps I have a way of rectifying that, if we can find some functioning computer banks."

It was, Shane knew, the beginning of something immense. They had gained their first, and possibly only, guide on this journey that would end, with no small amount of hoping, in space ships taking them home, in everyone escaping in one piece, in freedom far, far away from this horrible place. That was a small step, but it was going to lead to big, very frightening things.

Because in order to escape, in order for any of those things to be achieved, they had to go exploring first.

Shane was weak enough to admit this thought terrified him.

A feeling only compounded by how Hunter's grip tightened in a most painful way, his face neutral, but clearly, so obviously terrified too.

Which made it that much worse.

---

-:-:-:-:-:-

---

Endnotes:

To reiterate, I acknowledge that severely bad things have gone down this chapter, however, please note that this is a angst with a happy ending type of story.

So in this madness, you're just going to have to trust me. I mean, I assume there's at least a little bit of trust if you've made it this far, but just to reassure you, I have a plan for this thing. And it's a good one. I'm woefully biased, but vamps seems to like it, so I'll let that statement stand.

Thank you to ValkyrieNyght and Rayne for reviewing the last chapter. I always appreciate input, whatever it is, and for this crazy, soon-to-be crazier story, it's very relieving to know that it makes sense/entertains. I apologize for the delayed update, but as you can tell by the sheer mass of this chapter, and the heavy content, it took a long time to both write and edit. Just, trying to do it justice, you know?

Technical notes:

Just a quick rundown of the three Russians words that might trip you up:

Koshmar: the aliens

Vasilisa: the planet

Zhar-ptitsa: the foreign world habitation initiative

The organization's mentioned that Project Freelancer stole- "borrowed" information from are from the following seasons of Power Rangers.

Lightspeed Organization: Lightspeed Rescue

Bio Labs: Time Force

Galactic Space Alliance: Lost Galaxy

Until next time.