Ray, Gaby, Gunn, Alcott, Lorent, and TransGenics are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Mild sexuality; harsh language, strong violence.
Wes woke with a start. He lay quiet for a few moments. Something was wrong. Then he heard it, noises from downstairs. Voices and movement. Silently he got up and opened the door. The lights were on, so it wasn't a burglar. And now he recognized his father's voice and Philips', both with a tense undertone. He started down the stairs, immediately seeing his father at the front door, putting on a coat.
"Dad? Where are you going? What time is it, anyway?"
Collins looked up at him, not answering. With a stab of fear Wes noticed his expression, the lines in his face that said something terrible had happened. He hurried down the rest of the stairs.
"What is it?"
"Wes. There's been another fight. The Guardians spotted a timeship arriving at one of the TransGenics warehouses."
"And? What happened?" Wes prompted.
"Two men dead. Nine more wounded, three seriously. I'm on my way to the hospital." He reached a hand to Wes's shoulder as he simply stared, too shocked to answer. "I'm afraid that's not all. They got Eric."
Wes found his tongue. "What do you mean, they 'got' him?"
"They took him. Some of the Guardians saw him get hit by a blaster, and demorphed. They kidnapped him."
"Oh, God."
"I have to go, see what I can do at the hospital."
"I'm going with you."
"No. You're not in shape for this yet."
Wes grabbed his arm. "I'm going, Dad. Those are my men who were killed and injured, and my friend who's missing." He let go and stepped back. "If you don't want to wait for me, I'll drive myself."
Collins looked at him, pride momentarily lightening his face. "I'll wait, son. Hurry."
They found controlled chaos at the hospital, doctors and nurses rushing, Guardians milling around trying not to get in the way. They found Miller, sitting slumped in a waiting area, his face numb with shock and grief. He climbed to his feet and saluted when he saw them.
"It's my fault, sir," he said, his voice shaking. "I saw Commander Myers in trouble and ordered them forward too fast. I'm responsible for this."
"Don't be ridiculous," Collins said. "You were trying to do your job."
"But those men are dead. And they still got Eric."
"It's the people you were fighting who are responsible for this," Wes said firmly. "Not you. And we're going to get them. And find Eric. That's what's important now."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you contacted the families?"
"Just the wounded men. I couldn't face... the rest of them."
Wes sighed. "I'll do it. It should come from me, anyway. Who are they?" Miller gave him the names. Somehow it was worse, knowing who they were. Wes had known and liked both of them, as he knew all his troops and liked most of them. Reluctantly, he found a phone and did his duty.
Ray slipped into the room quietly. His ears had told him it was empty, except for Myers. He was still in the chair, slumped over, unconscious or asleep. Ray moved closer and squatted in front of him, uncertain of whether to try to wake him.
"Hey," he said softly. Myers twitched but his eyes remained closed. Ray stood up and started out.
"Mom? Don't go..." The voice was so pitiful that it stopped Ray in his tracks. He turned back. Myers had lifted his head and was blinking at him. "Wes?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
"It's Ray. I brought you some water."
"Thanks." Ray held the glass while Myers drank thirstily.
"What did they do to you?" he asked awkwardly.
"I have a headache..." Myers blinked again, shook his head slightly, and winced. "Is it dark? I can't see so good."
"It's... I guess it's kind of dark."
Myers was looking at him now. "Ray. You're the one who fought me. Almost beat me."
Ray snorted. "What do you mean, almost? I did beat you."
"After Lorent shot me. You had blue hair." He squinted, staring.
"Yeah. When they made me strong, my hair turned blue."
"You don't even know what they did to you, do you?"
"I told you, they made me strong."
"They made you a mutant. A change in hair color is one of the side effects."
"Doesn't matter what you call it. They still made me strong. They made me like Captain America."
Myers sneered a little. "Captain America is a good guy. Do you think that's what you are?"
Ray frowned and looked away, starting to get angry. "I help my friends. That's a good thing to do."
"Help them steal things and hurt people."
"They don't hurt people."
"What do you think they're doing to me?"
Ray looked at him again. "You don't look hurt."
"They're hurting me on the inside. Trying to make me give them the morpher... but I won't... can't..." His face contracted in pain. "Help me."
"I can't." Ray took a step away. "I'm sorry, Mr. Myers."
He looked up with a half-smile. "As long as you're going to kill me, you might as well call me Eric," he said with a tinge of bitterness.
Ray stopped and looked at him uncomfortably. "I'm not going to do anything to you."
"But you'll let your friends kill me." He paused for a moment before going on, his voice low and starting to falter. "Another effect of the mutating treatment is... genetic instability... they didn't tell you that part, did they?"
"You're lying." He hesitated for a moment. "What does that mean?"
"It means you'll get sick, sooner or later. You'll die..."
"No! Dr. Alcott wouldn't do that to me!"
Eric's voice was shaking now. "He'll kill you, like he's going to kill me... you'll find out."
"No! You're lying!" Ray retreated to the door. But even as he went out, he heard the words behind him.
"You'll find out..."
She saw him pass, not looking at anyone, his face set and grim. Gaby watched Wes go by, headed for Mr. Collins' office, not seeming even to see her. She opened her own office door and went inside.
The news was all over Bio-Lab. Two Guardians dead, and Eric Myers missing. A dull silence seemed to hang over the hallways, or perhaps the dullness was in herself. She sat at her desk and stared at her monitor, but the images she saw were of Eric, smiling at her in the street, waving from his flyer, disappearing into the darkness.
Wes walked quickly, ignoring the curious and sometimes sympathetic looks he got. No one said hello, no one smiled. All of Bio-Lab knew he'd be in no mood for casual conversation. At the door of his father's office he paused long enough to rub his eyes. They burned. But he didn't feel tired, even after being up most of the night. He knew there was still a limit to his strength, after his injury. But he hadn't quite reached that limit yet.
With a deep breath he opened the door and went in. Collins, Gunn, and Miller were huddled together around the desk. They all looked up at his entrance.
"Wes. I still think you should go home and get some rest." His father's face showed concern through the lines of fatigue and worry.
"Face it, Dad. I won't rest until we find Eric."
Gunn spoke up. "So far, we've got nothing. They didn't take him to their offices in town. And we don't know of any other locations they might be using. I've gotten in touch with all my contacts. We'll have to see if they come up with anything."
"He's got friends in the P.D. They're doing what they can, too. Beyond what they'd normally do," Miller said.
"Do you have any way to trace him? Anything the Rangers left you?" Collins asked.
Wes grimaced slightly. "No. They didn't leave anything except the morphers and my vectorcycle. No scanners. And my morpher has no tracing abilities. All I can do is try calling him with the morpher. So far there's no answer."
"So all we can do is wait?" Miller jumped up and paced a few steps away. "I'm going to make a few more calls." He headed for the door without looking back.
"I'd better get back to my office, too. I'll see if I can think of anything," Gunn said. He waited for Collins to nod and left. Wes stood up and tried to decide what to do next.
"Wes. Try to take it easy. We'll find him."
"This is my fault, Dad. I should have been there. Maybe I could have stopped it from happening."
"You couldn't have been there, with your injuries."
"I should have stayed under cover, that night. I made a mistake, and now two men are dead, and Eric's suffering for it." Wes blinked back sudden tears.
"It's not your fault, son."
Wes paced for a minute, his thoughts in turmoil. "Who knows what they're doing to him?" he burst out. "They're probably trying to get him to release the voice lock on the Quantum morpher."
Collins sighed. "Probably."
"What if they make him do it? We'll have a Quantum Ranger who's a criminal. A murderer. I wouldn't be able to beat him in a fight, as the Red Ranger."
"I hadn't even thought about that. But Eric's a brave man. And stubborn. He won't give in."
"No. But they'll try to force him." Wes looked down, again fighting for control.
"Try not to think about it. It won't do any good to drive yourself crazy."
Wes paced away and then back, too agitated to sit down. He glanced at his father's face, noticing for the first time how suddenly old and worn with worry he looked, and the way he was drooping with dejection.
"This is hard on you too, isn't it?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yes. I'm very fond of Eric."
"I used to think you liked him better than me. That you thought he'd make a better son for you."
Collins looked up at him, surprise and a hint of amusement in his face. "I never thought that. Not that Eric wouldn't be a son any man could be proud of."
Wes stood for a moment, remembering what Eric had told him about his own father. He sighed. "You should tell him that. If you get the chance."
"I feel responsible for this too," Collins said softly.
"What do you mean?"
"You warned me, back when I started the Silver Guardians. I hired them, and put them in harm's way. Whatever happens to them -- including Eric -- is my responsibility."
"And what you told me then is still true. This city needs the Guardians. They all knew what they were getting into. And you've done everything you can to protect them. Don't blame yourself."
Collins looked up, his face resigned. "It's hard not to, when something like this happens."
Wes straightened. "I'd better get back to my office and see if there's anything more I can do. Will you be all right?"
"Of course. You go ahead."
He started for his own office, walking more slowly now, again ignoring the people he passed. Once inside he sat at his desk, staring blankly, realizing he had no idea what to do. His thoughts kept returned to the image of Eric, trapped and alone somewhere...
"Just say the words. Release the lock. Then this will all be over."
"No..." Defiance was gone. All that was left was pain, darkness, and confusion. Eric couldn't even remember what he was refusing to do, or why. All he knew was that he had to keep saying no.
"Say it!"
"No. I'm cold... It hurts..."
Another voice took over. Alcott. Eric felt a moment of pride that he could remember the name. "Let me try. Myers. Where are the sisters?"
"Don't know." The sisters. It came back to him. Angela's face, her long black hair, her soft voice. Then another woman's face, brown hair and a smile. Gaby, the way she had looked when he impulsively kissed her.
"Did you stabilize their DNA?"
"Stabilize... what?"
Lorent's voice again. "He doesn't understand what you're talking about. Too much of his mind is gone."
"Myers. Think. Did Bio-Lab give the sisters anything to make them better?"
"Serum..."
"What serum?"
"Ven...Venomark."
"I don't get it."
Lorent again. "I do. It's a serum used in my time to cure a kind of poisoning. If he's right, we might be onto something. Now, I have to get him to release that voice lock, before he's gone completely." A pause, then the same voice, closer now.
"Did you ever give up the morpher?"
"Yeah... had to help Wes..."
"Myers. Eric. Think back. Remember..." The voice went on soothingly, and the sounds slowly faded, leaving Eric floating, warm, memories of the past taking him away from the pain, away from a present too terrible to face. He looked around, seeing the home he had grown up in, big again, the way it was when he was small. The shabby rooms, his parents; his mother turning away, his father raising a hand to slap him.
"Too far back. Remember when you got the morpher." The warehouse now, echoing with darkness, he was standing in the shadows, surrounded by enemies. They came closer, they wanted to kill him. He raised his arm, seeing the morpher on it. Wes was there, trying to take it away. He shouted, and felt the power surge through him, keeping him safe, making him strong.
"Later. You're working with the other Rangers. They're your friends." It was later... skies dark with smoke. A flying machine, painted to look like a dragon, attacking his city. He had to stop it.
"Now you have to give up the morpher. You have to help your friends." Later still. He had been hurt, didn't remember how. Wes and Mr. Collins, bending over him. Wes was going... he needed help. Couldn't do it all alone, not without the Q-Rex, and the Defender. Had to help him...
Eric heard himself say the words. "Deactivate... voice... identification..." The morpher spoke in his head for the last time, asking for confirmation. "Confirm." He felt the loss as his connection with it was broken. His hand moved to give it to Wes, but the strap binding him stopped it.
The voices again, pulling him back to that small, dark, cold room, and the pain. "Got it! Finally. He held out a long time."
"What are we going to do with him now?"
"No need to do anything. He's already dead."
Wes woke, again with the feeling that something was going on. His father had finally persuaded him to go home and get some sleep. The increasing pain in the side of his chest had helped him make the decision, although he couldn't be sure if the cause was tension, exhaustion, or exertion. He had been certain that he wouldn't sleep, but had passed out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Peering at the window, he saw that it was still dark. Way too early for anyone to be up, but he heard voices. He got up, went to the door, and opened it. The murmur of voices grew louder. He went back for a robe and padded out to the stairs. He could hear them as he went down.
A moment later Philips was hurrying toward him, a strangely excited expression on his face. "Mr. Wesley! You have visitors!"
"Who? Has something happened?"
Philips smiled. "Just go on in the living room."
With a look at him, Wes headed into the living room at a trot. Two people were sitting on one of the sofas. They stood up when he entered, grinning at him. They were both young men, both Asian, both wearing white jumpsuit uniforms trimmed with black. One was tall and very handsome, the other had a boyishly attractive face under bright green hair.
Wes stopped, almost staggering in surprise. Then he rushed forward to hug first one, then the other.
"Lucas! Trip! What are you doing here?"