Author's Notes/: Feel the Eric angst! Much love for Starlit Purple, who helped me figure out why Eric always knows when the Time Force Rangers are in trouble, and just what all those extra buttons on his morpher are supposed to do.

Sixth Sense

The first time it had ever happened, he'd thought it was his imagination. Morphers weren't supposed to have lights flashing all over the place, right? But the longer he'd ignored the stupid thing, the brighter it got. And when it started getting bright, it started beeping - *loudly*.

It had taken him awhile to figure out what the stupid thing was trying to do, and he'd been less than thrilled when he finally got it. Somehow the Quantum Morpher had been pre-programmed with information on the Chrono Morphers, as though they were expected to be used as a group. Whether or not he wanted to be part of their little 'team', his Morpher seemed to think it was. And whenever that sensor thing it had noticed something was wrong with another Morpher, it started flashing at him. He'd found out the hard way that the only way to shut the stupid thing off was to trace the Chrono Morphers and go haul their butts out of whatever trouble they were in now.

While he still wasn't comfortable with the idea, he'd gotten used to it eventually. And after the others went back to the future and it was just him and Wes, he'd even come to appreciate that his Morpher could keep tabs on his boyfriend for him. Wes knew after he'd borrowed it to find Ransik that last time, and he'd never failed to tease him afterwards about denying what his morpher already knew: that he was meant to be one of the Time Force Rangers.

Which was a load of bull, and he'd told Wes so. Wes laughed at him, they argued a little, and eventually forgot about it. It had never been a big deal. Wes had even forgotten why it was that Eric always seemed to know when he was in trouble. Not that he minded; he wasn't crazy about the whole idea to begin with.

Now it was almost three months since Wes had left, and his morpher was going haywire.

It happened during a board meeting no less, when one of the Suits was in the middle of lecturing the others while Mr. Collins was vacationing in Europe. He, meanwhile, was trying to stay awake without being obvious that he'd rather be just about anywhere but here. Mid-sentence there was a brilliant flash of light, and his morpher began to squeal.

He barely acknowledged the looks they were all giving him, staring instead at his wrist in surprise. It never went off without warning like this. Usually it started with the flashing and only made noise if he ignored it for too long. There was never an instant need for his attention.

He fought to keep from showing the chill that ran down his spine.

"Excuse me," he said shortly, not bothering to see if anyone tried to stop him when he headed for the door.

It was hard not to bolt for his office, but he didn't want to alarm anyone. The last thing he needed was to start a panic, especially when everyone in the Silver Guardians knew what exactly was on his wrist. Just like a lot of them knew what it meant if it was going off like this.

He managed to keep his wrist covered and out of sight until he made it to his private office. The moment the door was shut and he uncovered it the shrieking started up again, and he fought to keep from throwing it across the room and clamping his hands over his ears. Why the heck was the blasted thing so *loud*?

It stopped making noise when he hit the Morpher Tracking button, but the lights didn't stop. The mini-map it projected took him a minute to place, because it wasn't showing Silver Hills. The display was Newtech City.

That bad feeling was back.

"Wes," he whispered, swallowing hard.

The lights stopped.

He still didn't understand why they'd let him in here. He knew it had something to do with Taylor - she'd seen him yelling at the secretary to just tell him where Wes Collins was. The look she gave him made him incredibly uncomfortable, somewhere between anger, understanding, and reluctance.

Then she'd brought him to this room, and he didn't care what anyone else thought anymore.

"... Wes?" he whispered, staring at the body on the bed. His hands were shaking, and he clenched his fists in an effort to stop. He looked so broken ... "Wes ... can you hear me?"

Wes stirred, then groaned, writhing and twisting in his sheets.

He found himself beside him before he really thought about what he was doing, gently rubbing his shoulder to try and calm him down as he made noises he hoped were soothing. He didn't know if he was even helping him at all. It was hard to tell if there was anything bandaged near where he was touching.

Wes screamed.

"Wes!" he shouted uselessly.

Then he was being shoved aside as a woman rushed to Wes' side, flanked by two guys in navy jumpsuits. The guys pinned Wes to the bed as he struggled, still screaming. The woman stabbed Wes with some sort of injection, and he resisted the urge to demand to know what it was.

But Wes was still struggling, even as his movements slowed.

He found himself pushing his way through again, his hand rubbing that shoulder once more. "It's okay, Wes," he murmured. "Just rest for now. We'll talk later, okay? Just rest."

It took a few minutes, but at last Wes slowly began to settle down. He didn't know if it was his voice or the drugs that did it, but at least Wes wasn't screaming anymore. That had to count for something.

He let out a long, shaking sigh as he put a hand to his head and tried to calm down himself. Wes' scream had been ... bone-chilling. He didn't know what was going on but whatever it was -

"Eric."

He moved his hand just enough to look up with one eye. "Dana," he returned coolly as he finally recognized her. Crud. He probably wasn't supposed to be in here.

Well, whatever. He was here now, and if she thought he was leaving Wes alone like this, she was in for a fight.

But she just stared at him for the longest time. Something about her eyes and the way she was looking at him was creepy. It made him feel ... exposed somehow. Like she was silently judging him.

"Need him out?" offered one of the guys beside her.

"No," she answered at last, still watching him with that expression he couldn't read. "He's listed as his emergency contact. He has a right to be here."

He fought back his surprise. Hadn't Wes changed that yet?

"Eric."

He blinked forcing himself to focus on Dana again. "What?" he demanded, then immediately wished he hadn't snapped at her like that. She was probably the only thing allowing him to be in the room right now.

But she met his gaze squarely, not looking the least bit intimidated. "I don't know what happened between you and Wes. Honestly, it's probably not any of my business. But as his doctor, I will tell you that if you hurt him right now, I will personally see to it that you never get near him again."

She left before he could figure out something to say in response that didn't start with 'who do you think you are?' The two guys followed her, both eyeing him suspiciously on their way. Like he was some sort of criminal.

He shook it off, struggling to take deep, calming breaths. Well, at least that answers the question of what Wes told people, he thought bitterly. He wasn't sure how he'd become the bad guy here. Wes was one who -

Whatever. It didn't matter anymore.

He looked at the bed again, at Wes with his head and arm in bandages, looking like he'd just come out of a firefight. And somehow despite the fact that he hadn't talked to him in months and all of Wes' new friends seemed to think he was some sort of creepy stalker, he found himself collapsing into the chair next to the bed anyway. Reaching for his hand was almost an afterthought, as he silently prayed for him to be all right.

It was hours later, after going over everything in his head that he heard Wes stir again.

He'd been remembering, the good times and the bad. What it was like to have Wes in his arms, see Wes smiling at him, laughing at Wes when he did something stupid and he knew it. Remembering all the times he'd seen those shadows in Wes' eyes when they talked about the boys, and he'd always passed it off as just being nervous about becoming a parent. The look of shame and guilt in Wes' eyes when he finally confessed that he knew all along they'd never have kids together.

That horrible feeling of being used, because Wes was being a good little Time Force Ranger.

~"Get out of my house! I can't ... I can't even look at you anymore! Just *get out*!"~

"W - who ... "

He swallowed hard, blink rapidly as he reached up to rub Wes' shoulder again. His hand automatically went higher this time, brushing along his neck. Somehow he found his thumb rubbing tentatively just below Wes' jawline. It was an old habit, from years of trying to get Wes to get his lazy butt up and out of bed.

"Eric ... " Wes sighed, just barely managing a smile.

Probably didn't even know he was really here.

He leaned forward before he could stop himself, carefully kissing his forehead.

"Love you," Wes mumbled.

There was a pause as he seemed to be struggling to talk. His voice was so soft he had to strain to hear him. "M'sorry. Wish ... wish I n'ver ... 'M so sorry,"

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, struggling to hold in all the warring emotions running through him right then. Eventually he looked down at that pale, bruised face and tried to imagine the blue eyes open and watching him. Tried to picture that warm smile.

But all he could see was that guilty stare, and eyes that couldn't meet his.

He traced a thumb along Wes' cheek, swallowing. This was hard - too hard. He couldn't handle this.

Maybe ... maybe someday. Maybe not ever. He didn't know yet.

"I love you too, Wes," he said at last, keeping his voice soft. "And I'm sorry, too. For a lot of things." He kissed him gently, trying to avoid seeing Wes begin to smile again.

"But I don't think I can forgive you yet." he finished.

He turned and left before he could stop himself, before Wes could try to protest. He saw Dana on his way out, walked straight past Taylor, but didn't say a word to either of them. They would take care of Wes for him. They had to. Because right now he still couldn't stand to be anywhere near him.

Right now he was still trying to figure out what was wrong with himself for Wes not to trust him.

He reached for his phone. Mr. Collins still needed to know what was going on. Wes' father should be there for him at least, if he couldn't.