Eric, Wes, Jen, Mr. Collins, Miller, and Dr. Zaskin belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.
Gaby, Jimmy Duran, Frank Kelly, Gunn, Kane, Quinn, Pamela, and Dennis Myers are mine.

Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; strong sexuality; violence; mature themes including child abuse and prostitution.

As ever, please review, and try not to spoil.

Sins of the Fathers


Showdown

Eric walked into his house, slammed the door, pulled his jacket off and flung it down, still furious, seething with anger at Gaby, at his mother, his father, at himself. All of it was out of control, talking about it had made it real, brought it all out again. It hadn't helped, just made it worse... part of him wanted to give in, let go, the part that sensed it would relieve the pressure inside him, but a bigger part refused to give in. He wiped his hands over his face and tried to hold on, tried to keep control, keep away the despair that threatened to break through.

He slumped on the sofa. It was over with Gaby. For a while he had thought he had found someone who could make him happy, someone who could be happy with him. But he should have known. Relationships never lasted, not for him. Briefly, he wondered if he was more angry with Gaby for giving up on him, or with himself for pushing her away.

Inevitably, his thoughts returned to his mother. She had given up too, given up on him, on trying to take care of him. When it counted, she hadn't cared enough to try. He wondered if she had thought about him over the years, if it had ever occurred to her to wonder what had happened to him. If she had ever imagined how he felt in that bus station, waiting for her to come back.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa, remembering sitting there, waiting for his mother to walk back through the door. He hadn't lost hope for a long time. After half an hour or so he had gone out to the parking lot to look for her, and found the car missing. Even then he had thought she must have forgotten something, and gone to the house for it, or wanted to buy something, and just hadn't wanted to take time to tell him. Back in his seat, he settled in, watching the door. He had a book, and his toy.

The hours passed slowly, the day wearing away as he tried to tell himself she'd be back any minute. Night came. There were only a few people now, it was quiet. He got food from the vending machines and napped sitting up, in his chair. Every couple of hours he woke up, staring around that barren room, hoping this time she would be there.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?"

He looked up, blinking himself awake. A man was standing over him. "I'm fine," he said. "My mom's coming right back to get me."

"Okay." The man stared at him for another moment, but then he went to sit down with a woman. They whispered, still looking at him. Eric was glad when they left to catch their bus ten minutes later. He saw the ticket agent looking at him, too, and moved to where he couldn't see him.

Morning, finally. He thought the light would help, make him a little less frightened. But the fear was gnawing at him, growing, twisting his stomach into knots, making him breathe fast when he let himself think about it. Alone. He was all alone, with strangers looking at him... Soon someone would find out. He couldn't let them know, couldn't let anyone know his own mother had left him here, and wasn't coming back... He took a deep breath, forcing the fear down. She would come back. She had to.

The second night approached. The ticket agent was getting suspicious, had come out to look at him several times. Eric hid in the men's room, shut up in a stall, dozing off propped on the toilet. It was cold, and uncomfortable, and whenever someone came in footsteps echoed, scaring him.

He dreamed, in the half-waking daze exhaustion and anxiety had brought on. He seemed to be looking up at her face again, as she started to turn away, to walk toward the door. "Mom, don't go... don't go..." He was mumbling to himself, very quietly, half asleep, when he realized morning had come again. If she came back, she wouldn't see him, hidden in the men's room. He couldn't stay there. If she came back, she might think he had gone away.

If she came back... He went back out to the waiting room, put his bag down, sat with his toy airplane in his lap, and stared at the door.

On the old, worn couch in his living room, Eric blinked, trying to keep the sadness away, remembering how he had felt that night. That little boy had been so hurt, so scared... But he wasn't that child anymore. He was a big, strong, tough man now. A Guardian. A Ranger. He protected other people. Nothing could hurt him. He almost laughed.

His phone rang, startling him. Eric cursed, but the distraction was a relief. Hoping his voice was steady, he answered.

"Hello."

"Hey. I've got some news."

"Go ahead, Wes."

"We may know who else was involved with your... the murder."

"Who?"

Caution came into Wes's voice. "I don't want to say on the phone."

"Well, when do I get to hear it?"

Hesitation, then, "Can you meet us at the stationhouse?"

"Okay. When?"

"We're at my house. As soon as we can get there."

"Okay. See you in a few minutes."

He hung up, sighed, shrugged into his jacket again, and headed out.


They trooped into the stationhouse, Wes following Jen and Jimmy through a familiar maze of corridors on the way to the small group of holding cells where Dennis Myers was being kept. None of them felt like talking. Accusing a fellow police officer was serious business. Wes knew it wouldn't help Jen, with her career or with the people she had to work with. It could make life very difficult for her and for Jimmy. He looked at her profile as they stood in the elevator, seeing her serious and determined expression.

A sudden wave of affection took him off-guard. This was what he had always admired about Jen, a large part of the reason he had fallen in love with her in the first place. Her dedication, her will to do the right thing, no matter how difficult, or what kind of sacrifice it required.

With a twinge of shame he remembered his anger at her, for moving out, and for questioning his father. For doing her job the best way she could. For the first time he realized how difficult this case must have been for her, how she must have struggled with it. Why she had felt it necessary to move out.

He reached out to take her hand. She looked at him, momentary surprise in her face, melting into a smile as she squeezed his fingers. He smiled back, silently mouthing 'I love you,' seeing her smile brighten. No matter what happened, he and Jen would survive this intact.

A minute's walk from the elevator took them to the cell where Dennis Myers should have been. They all stopped and stood for a stunned moment.

"Where the hell is he?" Jimmy muttered. The cell was empty.


Eric started up the stationhouse steps. There were the usual few cops coming in and out, a couple of them talking in front of the door. He also saw a completely unexpected sight, his father, hands cuffed behind his back, standing with Frank Kelly next to a car. He watched them as they appeared to be arguing. Then he walked over as Kelly pushed Myers into the back of the car and closed the door.

"What's up? Where are you taking him?"

Kelly jumped slightly and turned to look at him. For a second he stared, then smiled. "Thought I'd take him back to the scene. I have a few ideas to shake him up."

Eric frowned. "You're taking him by yourself? No escort?"

"I'm -- I'm waiting for a couple of uniforms. But I don't think he'll be any trouble."

Eric looked at his father's face. It seemed frightened, behind the window glass. He looked away, uncomfortably.

"If you wait a few minutes, I can go along."

"I want to get going. And -- I think it'll go better without you there. No offense."

Eric was tempted to insist, but he wanted to hear what Wes had to say. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "Good luck."

Kelly smiled. "Thanks."

Eric started up the steps again and went inside. He spent a few minutes looking for his friends before deciding to ask the duty officer if they were there yet.


"What do you mean, Frank took him? You didn't ask Jimmy or me? It's our case!" Jen demanded.

"Take it easy, Jen. It's not his fault," Wes said quietly.

Jen frowned but said nothing more. Wes was right. The officer who had released Myers into Frank's custody had no way of knowing. They had wasted enough time on finding someone to tell them what had happened. Arguing would only delay them more. She turned away.

"We must have just missed them, maybe passed them in the elevator. We have to find them fast," she said.

"We can check the interrogation rooms first. That's where Frank said he was taking him." Jimmy looked almost as upset as Jen felt. "Hopefully he just wanted to talk to him."

Wes and Jen exchanged a glance. "Hopefully," she muttered. "But I wouldn't count on it."

The ride back up in the elevator seemed to take forever. They were all silent again, but the atmosphere was even tenser now. The first thing she saw when the doors opened was Eric, talking to the duty officer. He turned, saw them, and met them halfway.

"Wes!" he said. "What's up?"

"Come on." They all headed for the interrogation rooms. Jen heard Wes explaining the situation to Eric as they walked behind her. A moment later she heard Eric curse.

"Shit! Frank Kelly? Goddamn it, I just saw him taking my father away!"


Wes stood on the stationhouse steps, raising his morpher, Jen at his side doing the same thing. A few steps away, Eric trailed a stream of muttered curses as he stepped forward to join them and lifted his own morpher to his face. With three bursts of sparkling light, they transformed into the Red, Pink, and Quantum Rangers. All three used their morphers again to summon their flyers. Wes and Jen still had the flyers she had brought from the future when she had come to stay. While Eric had one too, he rarely used it, preferring the TF Eagle which had come with his morpher.

Moments later they were all on their way, lifting into the night sky over the lights of downtown Silver Hills. Eric had described the car Frank was using, and they would try to spot it from the air. Eric's flyer left them rapidly; he was going to check the Wells hotel, on the chance that Frank had told him the truth. Wes and Jen began to circle, separating to cover as much ground as possible.

Wes raised his morpher again as it bleeped. "Yes."

"Wes." It was Jen's voice. "You've known Frank longer than I have. What do you think's going on? What's he think he's going to do with Myers?"

"I wish I knew. Myers was afraid, obviously of Frank. That's why he wouldn't talk, why he didn't feel safe in custody."

"I guess he was right."

"Yeah. Damn. If he knows something about Frank... If only he had told us!"

"Would any of us have believed him?"

Wes sighed. "Probably not."

"If Frank killed Pamela -- maybe now he's trying to eliminate a witness."

"We have to find them. Fast."


Eric swooped over the hotel. From the air he could almost see what it must have looked like in better times, until he got low enough to see the dirt. This was the last place his mother had seen. A crummy hotel room... It struck him that her whole life had been a waste, nothing but sadness and futility. Now she was gone, and he was all that was left of her. Not much of a legacy, Mom, he thought bitterly.

His mind came back with a jolt as he circled the building. He saw Kelly's car, or one that looked just like it. It took him only a few seconds to find a landing spot. Close up, he was sure it was the right car. He ran toward the hotel door.

Eric had almost forgotten he was morphed, for a moment he was startled as passing hotel guests gaped in alarm and jumped to get out of his way. Admittedly, a Power Ranger dashing through the room must not be an everyday sight for them. At least the reaction was useful; he got a clerk's attention immediately.

"Did a cop come in here, with a prisoner?" he demanded.

"A cop?"

"He's in plainclothes -- two men, one of them in handcuffs."

"I don't know -- two men came in a few minutes ago."

Eric turned away. There was no time to wait for the elevator. He charged up the stairs. A breathless three flights later, he was in the hallway, slower now, listening for any sounds. The floor had been closed off for the duration of the investigation, he was grateful for the fact that there were no innocent bystanders to worry about.

Voices. He moved, slowly, up to the room where the body had been found, and flattened against the wall, listening. He could hear them clearly now, Kelly's voice steady, his father's quivering with fear.

"Why did you bring me here, Frank? You said you were going to let me go."

"Sure I am. You can leave any time you want."

"Well -- put the gun down first."

"Don't you trust me, Dennis?"

"You killed her, didn't you?"

"You're such an idiot. You would have left her alive. What do you think she would have said? She would have told the police everything."

"No -- she never saw your face. Didn't know who you were. You didn't need to do it."

"Go on. Leave. Just turn around and walk out that door."

"Frank..."

"Go on!"

Eric spun into the doorway, crouching, blaster out and ready. He froze. The room was only half-lit by one small lamp on a night table. Frank Kelly was standing in the middle of the floor, holding a gun, his shadow stretching in front of him. Dennis Myers was standing between them, his handcuffs gone, turning to look, his face frightened. Eric couldn't fire without hitting him. He hesitated. Kelly took his opportunity and jumped a few feet, behind a tall television cabinet, where Eric couldn't get a clear shot at him. He still had his gun aimed directly at Myers.

"Drop the gun, Frank," Eric said.

"He's trying to escape!" Kelly exclaimed. "I think he's armed!"

"No," Myers said, his voice shaking. "I give up. Take me back to jail."

"He's not trying to escape. He's scared stiff." Eric moved forward a step. "Get behind me, Dad."

"Hold it!" Kelly's voice was harsh. "You're only going to let him get away. Don't move or I'll shoot."

Myers stayed where he was and looked at Eric, his face pale. "Help me. Please..."

"Stop this, Frank. We know about your father. We've got your prints here and in the other room. It's over."

"What are you talking about? Of course you found my prints. I was here, doing my job, God damn it."

"You're not that careless. You were here, but not on the job."

"That's bullshit!"

"You brought my father here to kill him, didn't you? What did you do? Tell him you were going to let him go? That you'd kill him if he asked me for help?"

"No. That's a lie."

"Were you going to pretend he tried to escape, and you were forced to shoot him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were behind this whole thing. You killed my mother!"

"No! You're crazy!"

"We know about your father and Wes's dad. Your prints were here. What do you want to bet the other DNA from her fingernails turns out to be yours?"

"So smart. All of you." Kelly's voice had turned hard and biting. "All right. I'll give you a choice. Demorph, and let me go, or I'll shoot your father."

"Don't, he'll just kill both of us," Myers said softly as Eric hesitated.

"Trust me." Eric raised his morpher. "Power down," he said.

It happened so fast, later Eric only remembered it as a blur. The flash of light burst around him as he demorphed. He was prepared and closed his eyes just long enough not to be blinded. In the darkened room, Kelly was dazzled for a moment, throwing up a hand to shield his eyes.

"Get down!" Eric shouted as he threw himself forward into a neat roll across the stained carpet, recovering to his feet in front of his father, leaping forward at Kelly, wishing he had his Guardian blaster, grabbing Kelly's wrist as the gun went off, the flash and roar of the shot assaulting his eyes and ears. He twisted Kelly's arm, kicked his legs out from under him, and yanked the gun out of his hand. Kelly rolled away and back to his feet, scrambling for the door.

Eric went after him and almost fell over Myers, lying on the floor, moaning, clutching at his chest, blood staining the prison shirt and flowing between his fingers. Kelly disappeared into the hallway. Eric stopped, torn, but the sound of his father groaning pulled him back.

"Dad? How bad are you hit?"

"Don't know..." The voice was so weak, the face so pitiful, so completely different from the angry face and shouting voice he remembered.

Eric knelt next to him and checked the wound. "Hang on. I'm calling for help." He raised his morpher and reached for his cell phone with the other hand.


"He ran out a few seconds ago." Eric's voice came over Jen's morpher. He was talking to both her and Wes, his voice hurried and distracted.

"We're on our way," Wes's voice said.

"I've got 911 on the phone. Gotta go."

"Okay, we'll take it from here," Jen said.

"Good luck with your dad," Wes added. "Jen," he continued. "Meet you at the hotel. We can circle again to find him."

"Okay." She banked sharply, speeding toward downtown. Her eyes, vision enhanced by the sensors in her helmet, swept the streets. She saw it just before the hotel came into view.

"Wes? I think I see the car. Going south, out of town. You keep on looking, I'll check it out."

"Got it. Be careful."

Jen smiled. Just like Wes to warn her to be careful, against an enemy who had almost no chance of hurting her. She followed the car, which was speeding toward the highway. Flying lower and closer, she swept down next to it. A glance showed her it was Frank, swerving slightly as he saw the flyer so near.

"Wes. It's him. We're still heading out of town."

"On my way."

They went on, Jen lifting a little higher as Frank sped up, trying to outrun her. She flew directly above him, tensely watching him weave in and out of other cars. To her relief, he continued in the same direction, soon passing the Silver Hills city limits, and leaving most of the traffic behind. She looked up as another flyer appeared in the sky. Wes swiftly caught up and they pursued the car together, flanking it on either side.

In a few minutes they were on an almost empty stretch of highway. This was their chance. She flew lower, dipping down to ground level as she initiated the transformation from flyer to vectorcycle. The vehicle morphed around her, wings disappearing, wheels forming, body warping, touching down smoothly with no loss of speed. In moments she was driving, gaining on the car, then pulling alongside. He saw her, his face shocked before he sped up, trying to outrun her.

Glancing up, she saw Wes's flyer descend directly over the car, matching its speed. There was a flash of red as Wes climbed out, balanced for a moment on the wing, and then jumped onto the roof of the car. Frank obviously heard him, he glanced up, face contorting with anger, and began to swerve violently, trying to shake off his unwanted passenger.

Jen fell back as he almost hit her, heart speeding as she watched Wes cling to the top of the car. It swerved again, coming close to running off the road. Wes held on, and pulled himself toward the driver's door, reaching down toward the handle, almost sliding off as Frank veered hard. Wes drove his fist through the door's window glass.

Jen pulled up next to the car again, pacing it. They were on a straight length of highway with no other cars. She moved closer as Wes reached down again and yanked the car door open, then grabbed Frank's arm, holding on as he tried to twist free. She saw Wes look at her and nodded. He pulled Frank up and out of the seat, momentarily holding him half suspended over the highway. Jen moved in and grabbed him around the waist, carrying him away as she saw Wes swing himself through the car's doorway and into the seat, barely getting control in time to keep it on the roadway.

They both slowed rapidly. Jen dropped Kelly on the pavement as they came to a stop. In another moment Wes had joined her.

"Sorry, Frank," Wes said, his voice regretful. He pulled him up.

Jen dismounted and stepped over to face him. "Frank Kelly. You're under arrest."