The Weakest Color
Chapter 6: Of Old Friends
'I failed them. I failed them all today. Everyone. My team, SPD, the whole planet.'
After checking to see that his room was empty, Bridge slid disconsolately down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.
The green ranger put his head in his hands. 'Pull yourself together, Bridge! You've dealt with worse than this.' He paused for a moment. 'Well, maybe not. But still…' Bridge sighed heavily, remembering his teammate's reaction. 'Jack seemed really upset.'
'He'll get over it,' Bridge eventually decided. 'Jack is always upset at Sky, and they seem to manage well enough.' He brightened at the thought of his room-mate. Sky had always stood by Bridge, even from their first day in the academy.
flashback
He had been 14 years old, and this was his first day at SPD. He had been accepted early on account of his powers.
His adoptive family had enthusiastically supported his entrance to the academy. Bridge privately thought that they were only too glad to be rid of him and his 'problems'. He had never been close to them. At first, they had tried to be understanding, but they were not prepared to deal with a grief-stricken 7 year old genius, much less a 7 year old with super-powers.
They were afraid of him. He had hoped that over time they would grow accustomed to him and his strange ways, but it had never happened. And even until the day he left, he felt their hostility and their fear. Were he a little less morally upstanding, he might have exploited that and used it against them. As it was, he ignored them, and for the most part, they ignored him.
Glancing at his schedule, he wandered down the hallway. First impressions were always the most important, and he didn't want to be late. Following the signs, he turned down yet another tiled hallway, only to find his way blocked by a large group of cadets.
"Excuse me," he said, trying to slip by them.
A tall blond human stepped in front of him, his confident and slightly scornful manner marking him as the leader of this group. "Ah, a new RAT."
"Rat?" Bridge asked.
"Recruit At Training. Better than a civilian..."
"...Not as good as a cadet." A different boy finished, pushing his way to the front of the group.
"At SPD, the lowest of the low. The bottom of the heap."
"Oh… okay. I didn't know." Bridge replied, not knowing what else to say.
"You didn't know." Mocked the blonde, his voice taking on a malicious tone. "I don't think that's a good enough excuse, do you?" The other boys shook their heads in agreement. It didn't take empathic powers for Bridge to recognize a bad situation. He turned around, intending to return the way he had come. He would find a different route to class.
His tormenters, however, had no intention of letting him leave. Blocking the hallway, they shoved him back towards the center of the group. "Look!" One of them jeered. "He wears gloves. Like a girl!" And then his wrist was held in a painful grip, and someone carelessly ripped the glove from his hand, throwing it to the ground.
Without the added protection of his glove, Bridge's tenuous control over his powers began to slip. "It's my first day and I'm just trying to get to class so you could please just let me go or I'll be late." He finished breathlessly, tears coming to his eyes. Holding his bare hand to his chest, he tried to leave once more, only to find himself completely surrounded, with nowhere left to go.
One of the cadets shifted slightly, and Bridge caught a glimpse of his glove, lying on the ground between another boy's shoes.
He was never completely sure what happened next.
In the mad dive that followed, he was must have been intercepted by the group's leader. Bridge remembered being pulled backwards, and then his bare hand brushed against the other boy's exposed skin.
Bridge froze, his mind suddenly filled with foreign thoughts and memories. The contact must have lasted only an instant, but to Bridge it seemed like an eternity. Suddenly snapping out of his trance, he scrambled backwards, stammering an incoherent apology.
"I… I'm sorry. I…"
His apology fell on deaf ears. The bully backed away, his eyes wide with fear. "You... you freak!"
The crowd of boys surrounding him began to murmur. Bridge cringed at the sense of such hostility and fear aimed at him. 'I thought I had escaped this,' He though sadly. 'I guess that SPD academy really isn't any different from anywhere else.'
Bridge brought his hands up to his face, forming fists like he had been taught. While he had some basic self-defense training, he knew that he was vastly outnumbered and outmatched – he could not hope to win in a fight against these boys: they were both bigger and stronger, and had the benefit of SPD training.
Bridge prepared himself to be beaten to a pulp.
Unable to run, he stood his ground as his latest victim began to swing towards him – only to have the offending hand trapped in a vice-like grip by a tall brunette with hazel eyes, wearing the uniform of a d-squad cadet. The newcomer twisted the wrist, sending the bully flying off-balance into his cluster of friends.
"Such behavior is unacceptable at the Academy! What do you have to say for yourselves?
The trainees shifted uncomfortably.
"Well?"
"He's a freak," the bully murmured sullenly, his eyes fixed on the ground. "He deserved it."
"You are here to learn to protect and serve, not persecute others for their differences! Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir!" They chorused, less than enthusiastically. A voice at the back of the crowd murmured something about expecting a freak to help a freak.
The cadet frowned in anger, his keen hearing having picked up the comment. "I will report each of you to your instructors. Dismissed!" Turning to Bridge, he searched the younger boy for injuries."Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Bridge mumbled, picking his glove off the ground and quickly sliding it back onto his hand. "I think so."
Looking up at his savior, he sensed a stable mind, devoted to the principles of SPD – as well as great ambition, a determination to succeed.
"Don't let them get to you. They'll never make a squad anyhow, so they'll soon be gone." He took a closer look at Bridge and frowned. "I don't think I know you. Are you new?"
"Yes, sir." Bridge replied. "It's my first day."
"I'm Bridge, Bridge Carson." He added hurriedly, suddenly remembering his manners. Noticing the cadet's curious look, Bridge blushed in shame. "I... I always have to wear gloves. I'm sort of an empath, or something."
"I'm Schuyler Tate, but you can call me Sky." Sky replied, and Bridge was shocked that he did not even hesitate to shake his hand. People were always afraid to touch him, fearing that he would read their mind, violating their innermost thoughts.
Such a gesture of trust was as unexpected as it was appreciated. Bridge smiled, liking Sky immediately.
They had been friends ever since.
end flashback
Bridge had always appreciated his friend's loyalty, even though Sky was sometimes overprotective, and often seemed to forget that he could take care of himself. But Bridge could never lie to him, not for long. Sky knew that Bridge was troubled, more troubled than he would ever admit to the others.
And sooner or later, Sky would find out why.
'I could just tell them.' Bridge considered the idea for a moment, before dismissing it as impossible.
In such a situation, he could see only two options. One, they would believe that his dreams were premonitions. In which case he was a security risk, and should rightfully be expelled from the academy. And the other option was they he was going insane, his powers spiraling out of his control. They would send him to solitary confinement. Bridge shuddered at the thought.
Either way, by revealing his dreams, he stood to lose everything he had come to care for. Maybe it was selfish, but Bridge loved being Green Ranger. He loved his job, and his friends. And all this would be put in jeopardy should he reveal the content of his dreams. 'But I don't know how long I can keep this up. Any more slips like the one today...'
Bridge shook his head dejectedly and gave Sky's empty quarters a long, thoughtful look. Lying down on his bed, he covered his head with a green pillow, trying to banish the day's troubles from his mind.
There was one thought, however, which he could not ignore.
'I'm a liability to the Rangers.' He suddenly realized. Feeling very tired, Bridge slowly drifted to sleep, exhaustion claiming him at last.
