Series Title: Never Saw Me There

Chapter Title: Sins of the Past

Rating: PG-13

A/N: This takes place between the episodes "Worlds Apart" and "The Quantum Quest". It loosely falls between the chapters "Old Friend, New Problem", "Measured Chaos" and "A New Man" in the story Identity by Rach. Some references are made to a yet unposted Eric back story by Rach. The benefits of being a beta reader… you see stuff before anyone else does. Any deviation from Time Force is to remain consistent with the world created by Rach.

Thank you, once again to Rach for letting me play with her toys.

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I arrived home well after dark. Home. Yeah right. It was a place that I kept my stuff and occasionally slept at. The first thing I did, like I do every time I come home, was turn on every light in the place and switch on the television. Light and noise are my constant companions now. I find it sadly funny that here I am, once a big bad Unites States Marine, scared of the dark. Had someone asked me ten years ago, I would never have believed that at 26 I would be unable to sleep without a nightlight. Some big tough soldier I turned out to be.

I wandered into my small galley kitchen in search of dinner. I opened the fridge and looked in. To say that the contents were pathetic would be an understatement. There were several boxes of three-week-old Chinese take-out, a carton of milk that was coming close to becoming cheese, a carton of eggs, and a bottle of ketchup. Sighing, I shut the fridge and went to rummage in the cupboards.

The cupboards were just as sad as the fridge. Even with a steady job, I just couldn't get motivated to go grocery shopping and make sure I had real food in the house. I eventually settled for a bag of potato chips. Beverage was a different story however.

My day had just been too stressful for something tame like water. Carefully I pulled a small stool in front of the fridge so that I could reach into the cupboard above. I reached in and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

I generally don't drink, especially since my old lady spent more time lying under the table than she did eating at it, which is why I keep the hard stuff in a place that I actually have to think about getting to. I refuse to become another pickled leaf on the Myers family tree.

Taking my bag of chips and my friend Jack with me, I went back into the living room and flopped down into one of the ratty Salvation Army reject chairs I owned. I kicked off my shoes, propped my feet up on the small and rickety coffee table, and settled in to watch some mindless entertainment.

I flipped aimlessly flipped channels until something caught my eye. It was the 10 o'clock news report. There, behind the anchorwoman, was a picture of the Time Force Rangers. The caption read: Another Mutant Stopped. While the sound TV was loud enough to create background noise, it was still too low to make out actual dialogue. I hit the volume control until I could hear what the woman was saying.

"Peace was once again restored to Silverhills today when the Time Force Rangers brought a stop to another rampaging mutant. The mutant, later identified with the name Univolt, wreaked havoc and mayhem on downtown, causing untold amounts of destruction to property and injuring several bystanders.

The newly created Silver Guardians were the first on the scene, but the power and strength of the mutant proved to be too overwhelming for them. Mr. Alexander Collins, CEO of Bio Lab and creator of the Silver Guardians had this to say…"

The picture on the screen changed to a swarm of reporters surrounding Mr. Collins.

"Of course we are grateful to the Time Force Rangers for their assistance with this mutant. But I would like to assure the people of Silverhills that the Silver Guardians are the best-prepared security agency not affiliated with the federal government. Even now our Research and Design teams are working on better and more effective mean to defend this city against this mutant invasion."

Back to the anchorwoman. "On behalf of a grateful city, thank you Time Force Rangers."

I flipped the channel. Damn Rangers. Handful of untrained civilians. What the hell did they know about security protocol?

My mind flashed back to seeing the Red Ranger lying in the crater and looking up at me. What the hell was Wes doing there? Snagging all the glory that's what. Once again he has to be the one to get noticed. Just once I would like to be noticed.

I opened the bottle of JD and took a long swig. I savored the way it burned as it ran down my throat. It reminded me that I was alive. It helped me to remember that I can feel things.

Wes. Even after a decade, he still had an effect on me. When I first started Billingsley, I was looked down upon, treated like scum. Afterall, I wasn't one of them. I was the charity case; the kid from the slums who managed to con his way into a scholarship at the most prestigious prep school in the state. I was lower than dirt.

Then, for some reason, Wes decided to make me his pet project. Well, in the beginning it felt like that. It wasn't until much later that I realized that he was just being himself. He was being nice. He wanted to be friends. And a friend was the one thing above all else I craved. And I had found it in the form of Wesley Collins.

What had started out as assigned chem lab partners had actually developed into something more, something lasting. He stood by me when the other guys made fun of my background or openly refused to invite me to parties. He would offer to pay for pizza during our study sessions, knowing that was the only meal I would have had all day, without making me feel like a charity case. "You can get it next time," he'd say. Only the next time would come and he'd make the same statement. Best buds. That's what he called us. Always and forever.

Then junior year came.

I had always known I was different from the other guys. Hell, they knew I was different. And I don't just mean in a socio-economic way. There were some things that guys do that I just couldn't get into. Oh sure, sports I was into. Martial arts… I was a fifth degree black belt. But there were other things. Girls.

Sometime during my junior year the snide comments started. I began to hear the rumors. If they had only been directed at me, I could have handled it. But they began to involve others. Wes to be exact. If he heard the comments, he never said a word; never showed that it affected him. He stood by me. Loyal. A true friend.

I tried to act like him. Uncaring about the opinions of others. I wanted him to be proud of me. He was the only one I gave a damn about and who seemed to give a damn about me. But it was more than that. One night I realized that the rumors were true. I cared for Wes. More than I probably should have.

The next morning I took steps to save my friend's reputation. I couldn't care less what the stuck-up rich kids thought about me. But I couldn't stand by and watch them destroy Wes. I went to the registrar's office and dropped out. Without my constant presence, those good-for-nothings would forget all about it and welcome him back into the fold where he belonged.

I closed my eyes and thought back to that day. How he came running after me. The hurt in his eyes when he asked "You're quitting?" It took all my will power to not agree to go back. I just couldn't. He had a future - one that depended on his social position. And that position was not going to improve as long as I was around to bring it down. So instead, I just turned and walked away. From him. From our friendship. From everything.

I never even knew if my feelings were returned. And I didn't want to know. It would have made leaving that much harder.

I spent the next year trying to come to terms with who and what I was. I didn't want to believe the obvious. Not me. I couldn't be like that. All the while I did what I could to make ends meet. I flipped burgers; I mopped supermarkets after hours; I pumped gas. But I just couldn't keep my head above water. So the minute I turned eighteen I marched myself down to the local enlistment office and joined the US Marine Corps. After all, there is no bunch of manlier men then the Marines.

In the Marines I finally found the one thing I had really been searching for. I had found a home and a family. They didn't care that I was a welfare kid. They didn't care that I could conjugate Latin verbs in my sleep. And no one really ever asked me about my romantic life. The most they ever asked was "So, Myers, got a girl back home?" and they would accept "nope" as an answer and never give it a second thought.

I worked hard in the Marines, doing everything I could to prove myself, to myself, to my unit, to my C.O., and, hoping that somehow he would hear about my success…Wes. I was a damn fine Marine, with every intention of making it my career. I had dreams of one day having the stars on my shoulder. General Myers. That would show those snobby rich kids, now wouldn't it?

But I should have known. Dreams aren't meant for the likes of me.

After seven years of sweat, tears, toil and more than a little blood, I got posted to Kosovo and a year later, I was urged not to re-enlist. They started throwing phrases like Post-Traumatic Stress around...saying I was mentally unbalanced. And without so much as a "by your leave" I was once again reduced to the rank of civilian.

When I came back to Silverhills, I had a small hope of seeing Wes again. I wanted to show him that I had made something of my life. The Silver Guardians seemed the way to go. They seemed to be the private sector's answer to the Marines. They protected people and property. They were the good guys.

When I finally ran into Wes, he looked genuinely happy to see me. So why did I act like such an ass towards him? That girl. There was something about her that just pushed all my buttons. Under her gaze I was back to being the poor welfare kid, wearing second-hand clothes. Suddenly all those defense mechanisms kicked back in. The rudeness, the standoffishness, the asshole.

I resolved then and there that I would show him. Prove to him that I was somebody. I would make him proud of me. Glad to call me friend. Welcome me back into his life.

Then what happens? The Time Force Rangers. They arrive "just in time to save the Silver Guardians". And who should be the one to lead the charge? Wesley James Collins. The Red Ranger. The hero of Silverhills.

Why would anyone care about some lowly SG grunt when they can lavish the praise and attention onto the Rangers? Once again, Wes gets everything handed to him on a silver platter while lowly old Eric gets to go home, tail between his legs, licking his wounds.

Life's just not fair.

But I'd do it. I'd show them that I am somebody. Someone worth having around. I'll make Wes notice me again. I'd make him proud of me.

Then I yawned. I decided it could wait until the morning - right then, what I could use was some sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED…