Gaby, Emma, Angela, Gunn, the sisters, Alcott, and TransGenics are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Strong sexuality; harsh language, moderate violence.
"Eric?" He instantly recognized the voice coming over his cell phone. Mr. Collins, tension and anxiety clearly audible in that single word.
"Yes. What's wrong?"
"It's Wes. He's been in his room all day. Won't come out, and won't talk to me. I think the same thing's happening to him all over again." Now there was despair in his voice.
"Shit."
"Can you come here?"
"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can get away."
"Please hurry. Eric -- I'm afraid of him."
Eric took a second to absorb that. "I'll be there in ten minutes." After hanging up he turned back to the people he had been talking to, Miller and the owner of a jewelry store that had been robbed that morning.
"Gotta go. It's an emergency." To Miller he added, "Take over here. I'll contact you as soon as I can."
"Right." After a look at his face, Miller obviously decided not to even ask what the problem was.
He ran out of the store and stood in the street indecisively for a moment, wondering whether to take his Guardian car or the TF Eagle. The full reality of what he had just heard suddenly hit, sending him into a moment of near panic. He raised his arm and morphed, then summoned the Eagle and took off.
"Emma!" Gaby had spotted her friend in the hallway leading to her office. Emma waited for her to catch up and they walked together. "I looked for you this morning. You weren't in."
"Yeah, with Wes still out I don't have a lot to do. So I took some time off."
"I'm surprised you came in this late. The day's over already."
"I had some things to do. And you know me, I like late hours." She took another look at Gaby. "Did something happen?"
"The shit has hit the fan." Gaby smiled at Emma's expression of curiosity. "I'll tell you all about it."
They entered Emma's office and sat down. Emma leaned her chin on her hand and raised an eyebrow. "I take one morning off and something exciting happens. Tell."
"First of all, I've been working on the intrusions into our network servers and some of the workstations. And I finally got a solid suspect. I never did get anywhere with the stuff coming from the outside, they covered their tracks really well. But I'm still working on it. But -- most of the activity lately has been coming from the inside."
"Really? Someone working for Bio-Lab is spying on us?"
"That's right. That's actually usually the case. Most of the damage from hacking is caused by insiders. This one used other people's offices a lot of the time, but he still had to log on to the network with his own username when he couldn't find a PC someone had left logged on. And he did a lot of stuff after hours, when the people who worked in those offices weren't in. It took me a little while to get personnel to cooperate and give me the attendance logs, but I tracked him down."
"So I'm dying of suspense! Who is it?"
"Promise not to repeat it? No one's supposed to know until the Gunn can, and I quote, 'deal with it.'"
"I promise." Emma leaned forward eagerly.
"It's Robert Taylor." She waited, smiling, for a response.
"Taylor? Wow. I should have known. He's a sneaky bastard." Emma looked thoughtful, her brows drawing together.
"I would have told Eric, but he's been out most of the day. Then I had to wait until after lunch for an appointment with the Gunn. He kept asking me if I was sure. As if I'd make an accusation like that without being sure."
"Hmm."
"And guess what, last night, after I put it all together, I came looking for you. And who did I see, poking around in Wes's office? Taylor himself."
"What? What was he doing?"
"He said he was going to bring Wes that picture on his desk. The one you said was of his long-lost girlfriend."
"Oh my God." Gaby stared. Emma had turned pale, her eyes wide with shock. She jumped to her feet and ran from the room. Seconds later Gaby found her in Wes's office, standing in front of the desk, her fists clenching. When she turned, Gaby saw she was even paler, something like panic on her face.
"It's gone," she said.
"Yeah, I said Taylor took it…"
"Not the picture. The feeling… the aura. It's gone. It must have been the picture." Emma was breathing hard.
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
Abruptly Emma seemed to come back to life. "Come on. We've got to go there. I just hope it's not too late."
"Go where? What the hell is going on?"
"We have to go to Mr. Collins' house. Wes needs us." Emma grabbed Gaby's wrist and started dragging her toward the door.
"Wait a minute! We can't just barge in on them! What if Mr. Collins gets mad?"
"Sure we can." Emma grinned. "Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"
"It got bored and left. You still haven't told me what's going on."
"No time. And you probably wouldn't believe me. But I need you to tell them what you just told me. Please, this is incredibly important. Trust me."
Gaby sighed. "All right. Where do they live?"
"I'll drive." Emma took off at a run.
I must be nuts. Gaby charged after her.
Eric shifted impatiently as he waited for the Collins' front door to open. His mind flashed back to the first time he had stood at this door, the night the Rangers had invited him to their farewell party. He had been nervous then too, for very different reasons. Since then he had been here many times, on both business and social occasions. Wes and Mr. Collins had gone out of their way to make him feel like almost part of the family. And now, if he couldn't stop whatever was happening to Wes, it could all be over.
The door opened, revealing Philips, the butler. He looked upset. He also looked as if he had been fighting; his right eye was developing an impressive shiner.
"Mr. Myers. Thank heavens. Come in."
"What happened to you?" Eric demanded.
"It was an accident." Philips looked uncomfortable and unhappy.
"Did Wes hit you?"
"I'm sure he didn't mean to."
"Welcome to the club." Eric raised his hand to his freshly healed lip. He walked into the foyer quickly. "Where's Mr. Collins?"
"He's upstairs. Outside Mr. Wesley's room."
Eric went up the stairs two at a time. He found Collins slumped dejectedly on a chair outside Wes's bedroom door. He looked up as Eric saw him.
"Eric! Thank God you're here." Eric noticed a bruise on his jaw. His own jaw tightened.
"What happened?"
"Wes was fine last night. This morning he wouldn't come downstairs, he won't come out of his room. He shouted and cursed at us when we tried to get him to at least eat something. The way he glared at me every time I opened that door -- he looks like he hates me. And he started to talk about using his morpher again, to destroy things. Philips and I went in and tried to take it away from him. He fought us. We can't handle him. You're the only one who could stand up to him, if he actually decides to use his Ranger powers." Collins stopped. He had kept his voice low, and he looked frightened and desperate. Eric couldn't blame him.
"I'll try to talk to him." Eric went to the door. With a grim glance back at Collins he knocked softly.
"I told you to leave me the hell alone!"
"Wes. It's me. I just want to talk for a minute." There was silence for several seconds.
"All right. Just for a minute," the answer finally came, the voice irritated.
Eric opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Wes was on the bed, propped against the headboard, wearing dark blue pajamas. His hair was uncombed, his face pale, and his eyes burned with anger. There was little sanity in that blue gaze, and almost nothing of the man he knew, as if a stranger had moved into Wes's body. Eric felt a chill of primal fear.
"How are you doing?" he asked as calmly as he could.
"Just swell. How are you?"
"Could be better. Your father tells me you won't come out of here."
"That's right. I like it in here."
"Why? Why not make your father happy and at least talk to him?"
"Make him happy? He hates me. So does Philips. They tried to take my morpher."
"Well -- they just got a little scared."
Wes grinned, a savage, feral expression that frightened Eric even more. "They should be afraid. So should you."
"Me? Why?"
"You hate me too, don't you?"
"You know that's not true."
"Yeah? And how do I know that?"
"I'm your friend, Wes."
"Sure, you pretend to be my friend. Kiss up to the rich kid. Get in good with my dad. Try to take my place with him."
"No!"
"You think you can get him to let you take over Bio-Lab someday, instead of me."
"What?"
"You think you deserve it more than I do. You think I'm just a spoiled rich brat who never had to work for anything. You look down on me. You always have."
"Wes -- that's not true. Not anymore." But the accusations had once held considerable truth, enough to unnerve him now.
Wes turned his face away. "Get out."
"I'm trying to help you."
"GET OUT!" Wes screamed. Eric jumped, and retreated out the door without stopping to think.
In the hallway he stopped to lean against the wall and try to stop shaking. He looked around for Collins and heard his voice. A moment later he was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at Collins talking to two women. Emma and Gaby. He started down toward them.
"I'm sorry. You can't see him," Collins was saying. "In fact, I'll have to ask you to leave."
"I know you don't want us here," Emma said, her voice calm and level. "But you need my help. Wes is sick again, isn't he?" Collins and Eric traded a glance. "It started again last night or this morning, didn't it? After Taylor dropped by."
"Taylor? What's he got to do with it?" Eric asked.
"Everything. Gaby will explain."
"Me? Explain what? I don't have any idea what's going on here!"
"Just tell them what you told me, about Taylor." Emma stepped aside.
"Well, okay." Gaby faced the two men. "I figured out who's been hacking our systems, or at least doing most of it. It's an insider. Taylor."
"That slimy piece of shit," Eric muttered.
"And last night I saw him in Wes's office, taking that picture he has on his desk."
"The picture of Jen. He brought it over for Wes last night," Collins said.
"Emma got upset when I told her about it."
Eric said slowly, "Angela, my -- the woman I've been seeing -- said I should make sure no one brings Wes anything from Bio-Lab. She said someone was doing this to him."
Before either of them could respond, they all jumped in alarm as they heard a bellow of rage come from above. Eric noted that Emma had disappeared as he bolted up the stairs. He saw her a moment later, backing out of Wes's room. As she turned to run in his direction, Wes appeared in the doorway, his face livid and twisted with fury.
"You bitch! Give me back my picture!" As she passed him, Eric saw that she was clutching the picture of Jen. An instant later he stepped into Wes's path and was almost knocked down.
"Goddam bitch! Come back here!" Wes screamed, struggling to get past. He slammed a fist into Eric's stomach, doubling him over, and broke away. Emma was running down the stairs. Wes started after her, but Collins had reached the upper level and blocked him, with Philips and Gaby right behind him.
"Get out of my way," Wes snarled. They all looked terrified, but they held their ground.
"Wes! You want to fight? Fight with me!" Eric yelled. Wes turned, his face enraged. Then exactly what Eric feared, happened. Wes raised his morpher and with a vicious smile tapped it, transforming in a burst of light into the Red Ranger. Eric shouted into his and morphed into the Quantum Ranger only a split second later.
"Get out of here!" Collins, Philips, and Gaby stood, staring. "Go!" Eric shouted again. This time they ran.
Eric turned back to Wes. They circled each other tensely.
"Just like old times, huh, pal?" Wes said mockingly.
"Wes, please. This isn't you."
"Then who is it? It's me, buddy. The side of me that's not so pretty."
"Wes. Just demorph and we can talk about this."
"No! I want my picture back!" Wes sprang forward, whirling into a kick that knocked Eric off balance. He recovered almost instantly but Wes had dashed for the stairs, leaping over the railing to land lightly on the floor beneath. Eric followed him a moment later.
Collins, Philips, and Gaby were huddled against the front door. Philips turned to pull it open. Collins pushed Gaby out ahead of him. But Wes was already on them; he grabbed Collins' arm and dragged him back, throwing him against the wall and pinning him there with one hand. The other hand now held his blaster, which he held at his father's head.
"Don't come any closer, or I'll kill him," he said. Eric stopped a few feet away.
"Wes, don't do this. You'll regret it the rest of your life."
"You're both against me. Especially him. He only cares about money, never about me."
"Son, that's not true. I love you," Collins gasped. Wes's helmeted head turned toward him silently.
"He's telling you the truth. And I'm your friend, whether you believe it or not," Eric added.
"Yeah?" Wes turned back to him. "Prove it. If you're my friend, demorph. Trust me not to kill you. Right now. Or else."
"Eric, don't. You can't risk it," Collins said.
But Eric knew he had no choice. He couldn't take a chance with Mr. Collins' life, or let Wes murder his own father. And the deepest part of him refused to believe that Wes would kill him, even this twisted version of Wes. Slowly he raised his arm and said, "Power down." In a brief flash of light he demorphed and stood in his uniform again.
Wes moved the blaster to point at him. "That was stupid," he remarked conversationally.
"Wes. I have your picture. That's what you want, isn't it?" Emma had reappeared, and was slowly walking toward them from behind Eric. He saw she had the picture. It had been taken out of its frame. She held it up.
"Bring it closer," Wes said. She did, until Eric raised an arm to stop her.
"You don't really want to hurt anyone, do you?" she said softly. "It's just the pain in your head, and the thoughts that won't go away."
"Shut up." He released his father to step closer to Eric and aim the blaster at his face, only inches away. "Get on your knees," he commanded. With a sick fear of what was coming, Eric obeyed, slowly kneeling on the floor. Wes nudged his forehead with the blaster. "You did this to me once, remember? I thought you were going to kill me. You laughed, like it was funny."
"I remember. But I didn't shoot you."
"You're sweating. Scared?"
"No. I'm terrified."
Wes stood unmoving for a few more seconds. Then he laughed, and lifted the blaster away. "You always were cool under pressure. Maybe I'll let you live." He turned back to his father. "I won't kill you, either. For now. Just be careful how you treat me." He grabbed the picture from Emma's hand and started back to the stairs. As he reached them, Eric raised his morpher.
"Quantum Defender," he said softly. The powerful blaster materialized in his hand. Eric shot Wes in the back, sending him staggering against the banister.
"Eric! What are you doing?" Collins cried.
Ignoring him, Eric adjusted the Defender's power and shot again. To his relief, Wes's form shimmered and warped, leaving him demorphed but unharmed, gasping on the floor in his blue pajamas. Quickly he stepped over and grabbed Wes's left wrist, forcibly removing his morpher. Then he turned to look at the others.
"He's all right. Help me get him back upstairs."
Wes was on his bed, propped against the headboard, much as Eric had seen him before, except that now he was handcuffed as a precaution. He seemed to have lapsed back into depression, sitting turned away from them with his knees pulled up, his face dull and slack. All of them except Philips were in Wes's bedroom. Eric was in a chair next to the bed. Collins sat on the foot of the bed, watching Wes anxiously. Gaby, looking uncomfortable and out of place, was on a chair against the far wall. Emma paced near the door.
"He'll be all right now," she said.
"How do you know? Would you mind explaining exactly what's going on?" Eric asked.
"As soon as the others get here."
"What others?"
"You'll find out. And I'm afraid you may not like it."
"What are they going to do?"
Emma smiled briefly at him. "Don't worry. We're all on the same side. I think we can help each other."
Eric turned to Gaby. "Do you know what she's talking about?"
"I have no idea."
Emma stopped. "They're here," she said softly. Through the open door they heard the doorbell ring, and Philips' voice as he answered, along with a woman's voice. Then footsteps on the stairs. A woman appeared in the doorway.
Eric stood up. "Angela?" he asked in astonishment. Then he simply stared as she was followed by three more women, all identical to each other, and to her, except for one feature. Angela's hair was a silky black. Of the other three, the first had hair that was gleaming silver, the second unnaturally bright red, and the last had hair as green as Trip's had been. As Emma stepped forward to meet them, he saw that she also looked exactly like them, except for the hair and glasses. But he had never seen a resemblance between her and Angela, and still didn't. He felt a wave of disorientation and nausea.
"Dana," Angela said softly, looking at the green-haired woman.
"Right. Sorry about that." Dana smiled slightly. Eric felt a momentary touch of headache and dizziness. When it passed, he suddenly saw it, as if blinders had been lifted from his mind. They were all identical, except for the hair.
Emma stood with the others, and raised her hands to remove her glasses, and pull off a wig. She shook her real hair loose, letting it fall in a wave of shining gold. "These are my sisters," she said quietly.