Time Force belongs to Disney/Saban. I am using it without permission, but I am not and don't expect to make money from this.
Rated PG: a little minor language.
This is for the 'Five Things that Never Happened' fanfiction challenge/exercise.
Takes place near the end of 'Circuit Unsure'. Kindly take a moment to review...
Five Nice Things Eric Never Did
Of Birds and Robots
- - -
"So you see - we need your help!" Trip stopped talking and simply held out his backpack with Circuit's inert metal body visible inside, looking up at the taller man's hard face for sympathy as it scowled even more deeply.
Eric crossed his arms. "I've got better things to do than help you fix a toy bird."
A dozen responses to that jostled in Trip's mind and tried to be first out of his mouth. Circuit was more than just a robot bird; he was a friend and a teammate. He had thoughts and feelings - electronic ones, but still feelings, almost as if he was really alive. Look at the way he had lost confidence in himself today because parts of his memory had been erased - that had created a dangerous situation, but didn't it prove that Circuit was just like a real person?
But maybe someone like Eric would only care that Circuit was one of their most valuable assets: their computer, their resource for information about the mutant criminals, their most reliable way of contacting their own time. That was one of the reasons Trip had come here, to Bio-Lab, in the hopes that they would let him use some of their tools and instruments, the kind he and the other Rangers couldn't afford - they had to fix Circuit because they needed him. That wasn't the most important reason, but it was one of them. Yes, the practical approach was the most likely to get them out of the corner of Bio-Lab's lobby where Eric stood so immovably blocking the way.
But somehow what Trip said in a frantic and indignant rush of words was, "He's not a toy! Circuit just helped disarm that Space Center self-destruct, and then he distracted Serpicon, and he only got broken because he was trying to save me! He's not just a machine! He's my friend!" He clutched the backpack to his chest, giving Eric a glare that he hoped was fierce enough to make an impression.
"That thing is your friend?" Eric's tone was sarcastic.
"Yes, he is! I guess you don't understand that, or - or what it's like to care about anything, even if it's - it's just a bird or a robot!"
Eric's eyes flashed with what Trip knew was anger - but the expression vanished in a moment. "You don't know me as well as you think," he said evenly, stepped back, turned around, and started for the interior of the building. "You coming or not?" he threw over his shoulder.
Trip had to trot to keep up with Eric's longer, angrier strides, and as they wound their way through hallways and around corners he began to wonder if he'd ever be able to find his way back out if Eric decided to abandon him somewhere where no one ever went. It was an interesting place, too; he wished he had time to look inside some of the laboratories and workshops they were passing with only a tantalizing glimpse at the people and machinery inside.
But then he had his chance as Eric stopped so abruptly that Trip almost ran into him. He opened a door and motioned inside, saying, "This is all spare stuff, so I guess you can use whatever you want. Have fun."
Trip entered slowly, looking around at a room that was unmistakably a storage closet - but in this case a storage closet for very well-equipped engineers. It was small and cluttered, and without furniture except for an abandoned-looking bench shoved in a corner. But - the walls were lined with metal shelving, and on them - a jumble of circuit boards, chips, wiring, tools, batteries, power supplies, instruments... "Wow," he breathed reverently.
- - -
Trip had no idea how much later it was when he got up with a sigh of satisfaction from the chair Eric had quietly brought him, stretched, and picked Circuit up for a final look. It was long enough that he had almost forgotten Eric was there, and jumped at the sound of a voice behind him.
"Is that it? Couldn't you fix him?"
Trip turned to find the Silver Guardian on a stool near the door, leaning against the wall with arms folded. "Circuit should be fine," he said. "I just have to reload some parts of his operating system back at the clock tower before I reactivate him. All his circuitry is working, but an overload of current wiped some of his memory layers, and a reload is easier than examining his stored coding for scramble effects-"
"I don't need the details, thanks." Eric got up and reached for the door, but glanced back. "Better put him away before someone sees him. There may be a couple of people in Bio-Lab who haven't figured out who the Rangers really are yet."
"It won't matter much longer," Trip said as he slid Circuit into his backpack. "I'll have to check Circuit's database, but I think Serpicon was the last mutant convict. Ransik doesn't have anyone else to send, and Frax has turned against him." He slung the pack over his shoulder. "So I guess all this is going to be over soon."
"Over?" Eric glanced around as if wondering what his own place would be in a world without Ransik, and frowned.
"Yeah."
Eric opened the door, and Trip followed him out and through the twists and turns of Bio-Lab again as they returned to the entrance. It was quieter now - after working hours, he realized - a few people still sat in offices and a few more in the laboratories they passed, and there were the ever-present Silver Guardians going about their business with purposeful strides and respectful nods for their commander. With a pang Trip realized that soon, if they were lucky, he would be leaving Bio-Lab, Eric, and all of this world - including Wes - behind, a thousand years in the past.
Outside, twilight had fallen over Silver Hills, blurring and softening the sweeping lines of the building they had just left. Eric stopped a few steps outside the door and turned to face Trip. "So I guess you guys will be leaving soon," he said.
"Yeah. Going home." Trip didn't add, I hope.
"Good." Eric's eyes had drifted to the backpack with Circuit inside. "I had a couple of birds once," he added unexpectedly.
Trip waited for a moment, but Eric said no more than that. Wes had seen the birds, and been surprised by them, and told the others - but that didn't explain... "What happened to them?" he asked.
"I gave them away. I'm not around much. Didn't think I was going to be living here much longer. Seemed like they'd be better off with someone else." He shrugged. "Pets just tie you down. I don't know why I got them in the first place."
But Trip knew, as he felt some trace of what was under the hard, brittle surface of Eric's mind - a loneliness, a deep rootlessness, the darkness of someone with nothing and no one he felt was truly his. What kind of man thought even a bird was too much commitment, yet had turned to their undemanding presence out of the simple need to have something alive in his home when he returned each night?
"Maybe you'll want another one someday," Trip said.
"Maybe." But Eric sounded skeptical.
"I'd better get going." Trip ducked his head. "Thanks."
"Yeah, whatever." But Eric made no move to go as he stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. "You know, I'm going to kind of miss you guys getting in my way all the time."
"Yeah," Trip said with a grin. "We're going to miss you insulting us all the time."
The harsh line of Eric's mouth softened with a half-smile and a faint chuckle before he started back inside with a "See ya."
"See ya, Eric," Trip murmured, watching him go before turning his face towards home.
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