Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence.
Wes stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. There was a crack running along it, over the bed. He examined it for perhaps the tenth time that morning. He didn't feel like getting up. It hardly seemed worth it lately. In the days since he had been suspended there was little for him to do but sit in his office and go over paperwork. He wasn't even supposed to let the active Guardians consult with him on their assignments.
But he had to get up sometime. It wouldn't be responsible to just lie there forever. And he mustn't be irresponsible, people would be disappointed in him, even more than they already were. He rolled out of bed, shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Standing with the warm water pouring over him, he shut his eyes and tried to empty his mind. But it persisted in running through the same angry and depressing thoughts he had been having for days.
They had no right to punish him, as if he had done something wrong. He and Eric had been doing their jobs. They didn't trust him. They didn't care what this was doing to him. No one cared. They were all just a bunch of heartless bureaucrats, including his father. Especially his father, who was the one who should have stood up for him, and for Eric.
He felt the anger build up again, grinding his teeth as he seemed about to burst with it. Then it eased, and faded, leaving him tired and hopeless, his daily headache already starting. He shut off the water and slowly dried off, then dressed. When he reached his bedroom door, he stopped and took a deep breath. Time to face the world again. It was getting harder every day.
Downstairs he found the breakfast table set and his father waiting, reading the morning paper. As Wes sat down, Collins lowered the paper, giving him what had become his usual look; an appraising, concerned glance, wondering what was wrong with him, what he was going to mess up now. Wes avoided his eyes and reached for the eggs.
"Good morning," Collins said. "Feeling any better today?"
"I'm fine."
"You still look tired."
"I said I'm fine."
"Maybe you should stay home today."
"I'm sick of home. I'm sick of work, too. But it's better than sitting around here all day."
"I know this suspension is hard on you. But please be patient."
"Yeah, I'm trying." Wes managed an empty smile.
Collins folded his paper and put it down. "Wes, I still think you should see a doctor."
"I'm not sick. Just… a little frustrated."
"Something was wrong before this happened. And you've been having so many headaches."
"Look -- if I'm not better in few days, I'll go to a doctor. Okay?"
"All right. Can I give you a lift to work?"
"I'd rather have the car with me."
Collins got up and stood for a moment longer, watching him. Wes looked up at him. Even through his irritation some part of him was touched by his father's concern. He smiled, genuinely this time. "I'll be fine, as soon as this business is cleared up. You'll see."
Collins gave him a smile in return. "I'm sure you will. See you at work."
Wes walked up to his office, absently noting that Emma was not at her desk. He opened the door to find her inside, looking a little flustered. She greeted him with her usual smile, but there was something strained about it. Undoubtedly, she was worried about him, just like everyone else. He felt a touch of annoyance.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked.
"Looking for the records on that restaurant robbery last week. Steve Miller wanted them."
"Aren't they filed away?"
"I found them." She started out and turned back to him at the door. "By the way, good morning."
"Yeah. Morning. Could you do me a big favor and get me a cup of coffee? And some aspirin?" Wes sat and rubbed his eyes.
"You have another headache?"
"Yeah."
She came back in and leaned on the other side of the desk. "Wes, maybe it's none of my business, but you really need to see a doctor. And you need to stay home for a while."
Wes looked up at her, annoyed but recognizing the concern in her face. "I don't need a doctor. And I don't feel like staying home."
"I'm serious. This office... isn't good for you." For a moment she seemed about to say more. But with a frown she straightened and went back to the door. With a last look at him she left.
A few minutes later, fortified by the coffee and aspirin Emma had delivered -- along with another worried stare -- Wes tried to get down to catching up on reviewing case reports. But his headache was getting worse, and the letters seemed to swim and blur on the page. He blinked at them, trying to force his eyes into focus, realizing he hadn't understood a word.
"You look like shit." Eric was standing in the doorway, his face smiling slightly but his eyes sharp with concern. Wes smiled, appreciating the bluntness after so many polite questions.
"My head hurts again."
"Did you take an aspirin?"
"Yeah. This headache's just laughing at them."
"You really need to see a doctor. Maybe you're getting migraines."
Wes considered that. It appealed to him, just having a name for what was wrong with him would help. And it was better than thinking he was going insane.
"Okay. I'll go to a doctor tomorrow. Happy?"
"Go today. You can go to the infirmary anytime you want."
"We have that meeting right after lunch."
"Go after that."
Wes sighed. "Okay. I can see you won't leave me alone if I don't."
"You bet I won't."
Wes looked down at his papers again, trying to make sense of them. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head on his hands, trying to force the headache away. A wave of dizziness washed over him. He heard a voice and looked up again to see Robert Taylor standing across the desk from him, watching with an expression he couldn't identify. Wes blinked in surprise. He didn't remember Eric leaving, or Taylor coming in.
"Are you all right?" Taylor asked.
"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
"I just came by to see how you're doing. With the suspension and all."
Wes looked back down at his desk. "I'm okay. I'm sure we'll be back on active duty soon."
"I hope so. Sometimes an investigation like this can drag on for a long time. I'm sure you and Myers are getting impatient, having to sit on the sidelines like this."
"Yeah, we don't like it."
"Too bad your father didn't prevent it."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, just that if he really believes you're innocent -- which I'm sure he does -- I'm surprised he'd let you be suspended. He's the boss, it was really his decision, you know."
"I'm sure he was just trying to do the right thing."
"Of course he was. And it's very loyal of you not to resent being treated so badly. Most people in your situation would be angry. They'd be thinking about getting back. Especially at your father."
"You really think he shouldn't have done it?"
"Well, I'm not in charge, of course. But I would never have done something like that to you, after everything you've done for this company. I'd be thinking about what you can do with that morpher of yours, if you wanted. I think your father made a big mistake."
"And I think that's about enough of your bullshit." They both looked up as Eric stepped into the room, his face heated, his fists clenched. He took a threatening step toward Taylor, glaring angrily.
Taylor backed away, his confidence evaporating. "I was just making conversation, just trying to help."
"Right. Trying to help Wes think his father is out to get him." Eric's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "What are you up to? What was the point of that?"
"Nothing. And if you're going to be as rude and unprofessional as usual, I'm leaving."
"Yeah? Bite me," Eric suggested, taking another step forward. Taylor exited the office with undignified speed. Eric watched him go, and then turned back to Wes.
"Maybe he's right," Wes said. "Dad should trust us more. I'm his son, after all. And you've saved his life."
"He has to treat us the same as everyone else. You know that."
"Why are you taking his side?"
Eric gave him a concerned look. "The meeting after lunch is supposed to be a progress report on the investigation. Let's wait and see what Gunn's come up with. Maybe all of this will be settled."
"They shouldn't have done it in the first place. Should have trusted us. Don't they know what we could do with these morphers, if we wanted? But we've always used them to help people. Saved this whole city, twice. Risked our lives. But they've forgotten all about that."
Eric stared at him for a long moment. "I'm sure no one's forgotten." He smiled suddenly. "Listen to us. I'm supposed to be the one who's angry, and you're supposed to be the reasonable one." Wes smiled, although he didn't really understand what Eric was talking about. He was being perfectly reasonable.
"Want to grab some lunch?"
"No. I want to finish this." The truth was Wes wasn't hungry, but if he said so Eric would just get that worried look again. He reached for the aspirin bottle as Eric left.
The next hours passed in a blur of pain and confusion. Emma came in and asked him if he was all right. So did his father. Someone else did too, but he didn't remember who. If they would just leave him alone, stop asking him questions, maybe his head would stop pounding. Six aspirin later, his headache had receded enough to let him pretend everything was all right when Eric came to get him for the meeting.
Wes followed Eric into the office his father was using. Looking around, he saw it already showed the imprint of his father's personality; unnecessary furniture and decoration had been removed and the lights had been lowered. They were the last ones there; Gunn and an uncomfortable Michael Zaskin were waiting along with Collins. He stared at his father until he looked back uneasily; reading guilt, deception, and cruelty in the older man's face. He would be quiet for now, and see what they did. But then he'd make sure they knew how wrong they had been.
As they sat, Collins spoke. "Mr. Gunn is ready to give us a progress report. Hopefully we can get this matter resolved. Mr. Gunn?"
Gunn turned in his chair to face them. "Thank you. From descriptions of the intruders and other evidence, we've come to the conclusion that these were definitely the same people who robbed our warehouse and took a number of Guardian blasters. Considering the fact that they also took the confidential records that were stored there and attempted to steal Mr. Collins' safe, which contains even more sensitive records, it's very likely that they are the same ones who are behind the various other attempts to gain access to Bio-Lab information. This leads to the conclusion that a well-funded, highly-organized enemy is attacking us. Whatever they want, they want it badly enough to resort to thievery and murder.
"Now, as for the deaths of the five intruders, Dr. Zaskin informed me that he and his staff have a method of identifying the blaster weapons which were used on them. He has now finished that analysis. I'll let him explain."
Zaskin sat up and spoke with even more than his usual self-consciousness. "We all know that Bio-Lab developed the Guardians' weapons, basing them on weapons recovered from the mutants who attacked us last year. Each blaster has a unique energy signature that can be identified, almost like the rifling on a bullet. We can read the signature from anything that's been hit by an energy blast. Even a human body. Alan -- Mr. Collins -- got permission for me to scan the bodies. It definitely was a Guardian weapon that killed them, not one of your Ranger blasters. The same one killed all five men. And according to our records, it was one of the blasters stolen from the Southside warehouse. Apparently one of the thieves killed his own men."
Collins smiled at Wes and Eric. "Well, there we go. We have proof. You're both back on active duty as of now."
As Eric smiled at him, Wes knew he probably should be happy. But his anger had intensified, and waves of pain were rolling through his head. Just because they had finally decided he hadn't done anything wrong, he was just supposed to forget the distrust and disrespect they had shown. They would find out it wasn't that easy. They'd have to realize it was dangerous to make him angry.
Gunn faced Wes and Eric. "Yes, you've been cleared completely. Personally, I had no doubt you would be. But I'd like to apologize for what you've gone through."
"You apologize. That's great. I guess that's supposed to make up for what you did? We should never have been suspended in the first place!" Wes said.
Eric turned to him, alarm on his face. "Wes, it's over. They did what they had to do. No reason to get angry."
"You're on their side, aren't you? Bastard."
"Wes!" Collins exclaimed.
"Wes... calm down." Eric was staring at him.
He turned back to the others. "None of you trusted me. Even my own father." He glared at Collins and jumped to his feet. "I'm a Ranger. I could destroy this building if I wanted to. And destroy all of you. You should be grateful I don't do it! Maybe someday I will!" He swept a furious look over all their shocked faces and turned to the door, slamming through it.
The corridor lights disoriented him for a moment, sending fresh pain stabbing into his head. He started back toward his office, taking only a few steps before a hand grabbed his arm. Eric yanked him to a stop and swung him around, stepping face to face with him, looking furious.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted. "Making threats? What's wrong with you?"
Wes stepped back, his head starting to spin. Everything was beginning to blur together, the bright lights, Eric's loud and angry voice, the other people staring at him. He jerked his arm away and started to walk again, but somehow he ran into the wall, and leaned against it, grateful for the support. Then he was sliding down it, the floor coming up to hit him, his head so dizzy, so painful that he just wanted to curl up and lie there.
He felt hands roll him over, heard Eric's voice again, shouting something, saw Eric's face above him, looking scared now, calling his name, then his father's face and voice, also fearful, until he closed his eyes and thankfully let himself slide down into darkness and quiet.