Losers Are Weepers

by biggrstaffbunch

[series of one-shots] It was almost impossible to date outside of the team. They knew that- once you were in, chances were, you were connected for life. A look inside the romantic lives of our favorite Rangers. ll MMPRPRZPRT lll

3. Tommy and Kat

Losers Are Weepers by biggerstaffbunch

Disclaimer: No ownership of these characters…

A/N: Okay, so I know I'm gonna get reamed into over my characterization of Tommy, but truthfully? That's how I wanna write him. I've always been dubious that anyone can be that cluelessly, naively good…so I definitely wanted to inspect a different side of Tommy. Please don't flame me because he's OOC. I'm fully aware of that, thanks. And formatting? I think I've got it under control…criticism is always welcome, so thanks for all the suggestions I've gotten so far! And to cobalt-blue: thanks, your reviews and your work make my day!

*Tommy/Kat (kind of)*

How can you see into my eyes like open doors

leading you down into my core…

So they look at me, and they whisper behind cupped hands that I'm a legend. So they follow me to the ends of the earth, taking all I say as law. So they believe what I believe in (and in me) and they hold my image up on a pedestal. Does that mean I'm perfect? Only in other peoples' eyes am I God, and so yes, I'm perfect.

I got screwed over in the lottery of life.

It's gotta be the worst existence ever to have everything and feel as if you don't deserve anything. To sit around, dreaming about girls and cars, all the while knowing you're not as great as people say you are. It's hell, man. Pure hell. 'Cause I'm not perfect, and I've never been perfect, and now, all alone with my demons, I can't ask for help. What would they all think? Tommy, the perfect one, the one with all the power, bowing to the monsters of alcohol and loneliness? Yeah, right.

Where I've become so numb without a soul my spirit sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there and lead it back home wake me up inside

Wake me up inside

And so they ignore their faithful leader falling.

It's awful, knowing that I'm spiraling down into this deep pit of stale beer and gasoline-covered chicks with jaded looks in their eyes. I never meant for it to be this way, for my life to come to this, with a wife at home and a different affair every day at the racetrack. I never meant to go straight to Ernie's Bar and Grill after practice with a girl on each arm, a beer in front of me, and my wife calling in tears every second. I never wanted this; I never thought it'd be this way.

Call my name and save me from the dark

Bid my blood to run

But it is, and I hate myself for it. In some ways I wish I were back in high school, noble and chivalrous to the very end. Sure, I got dicked over into solving everyone's problems for them, and I was expected to be an angel, but still-it was good. Pure, y'know? And now I'm tainted, with the blood on my hands as red as the spandex I used to loathe with every inch of my being. I can't look them in the eyes any longer, can't sit there in superior silence and know I'm better than them all. Because I'm not. I've killed monsters, and seen my friends bleed and bruise, and I'm turning into the creatures we used to protect our loved ones from. Slowly, surely, I am killing my own wife with my indifference.

Before I come undone

Save me from the nothing I've become

The thing is, I never intended things to be this way. I always thought I was a good enough guy, even with my excessive love of alcohol and speed. I always fell back on my impeccable reputation as a Ranger. But when you're dealing with women, things are different. When you're dealing with women, you're dealing with matters of the heart, and Tommy Oliver just doesn't delve that deep. You know why? Because Tommy Oliver is scared of what he might find. What is he, what am I, without the power? Everything that matters has come about as a result of what the power did to me. It made me untouchable, it made me leader. And once I gave it up, I tried very hard to prove to everyone that Tommy Oliver was a regular guy, a guy who liked to drink and have fun.

Only problem was, I had a separate life, identity already. Like it or not, I had already defined Tommy, and I couldn't very well go against that grain and expect the universe not to combust! Kimberly Harte was my first love, representing my first year as a Power Ranger. When she came back to Angel Grove all those years later, my reputation cemented, I had already started going out with Kat. Kim sat, a knowing look in her eyes, at the Oliver/Hillard wedding a few months ago. She knew how desperate I was to discard that last vestige of Ranger-hood, that first love. She knew Kat was an escape from the power. But lately, I've realized that maybe Kat is more. Maybe I've been wrong all along…

Now that I know what I am without you

You can't just leave me

Poor Kat. When she fell in love with me, she didn't think that reliable, honest Tommy would turn into a womanizing, alcoholic speed-demon. But I had guessed that was the real me, underneath all that do-gooder Ranger stuff. Kim knew. She dumped me because she caught a glimpse of the conflicted me, and because she was all sweetness and fluff-she couldn't handle it. I love her to death, even now, but she got with my best friend and I can't even handle that. It must kill Kat to see me pine after the girl she's always viewed as better than her. It must kill Kat, and I still mouth Kim's name sometimes when we make love. That's just me, and I don't understand it. I love Kat, I know that I do, but I can't stop hurting her. I'm afraid that if I don't keep her at a distance, I'll try and be a better man. And if I try and be a better man, what will have changed from my teenage years? I'd still be perfect Tommy.

Breathe into me and make me real

Bring me to life

I don't know why I've become what I have. Even when I was walking with my back straight and chin up all those years ago, I was thinking, "Why the hell is this necessary? Why do I keep pretending, and why am I not happy?" I always rebuked the power inside, and that's why I'm keeping love at bay, too.

Wake me up inside

Wake me up inside

Call my name and save me from the dark

Bid my blood to run

Kat doesn't call me on it, y'know. She doesn't sit there and say, "Why'd I get stuck with a jerk of a husband like you? You weren't this depressing a year ago!" She doesn't beg me to get out of it, she is by my side. She loves me unconditionally. And I don't deserve it. I wish I were a better man, sometimes, for her. But I'm not. And that's that.

Still, sometimes when she looks at me, with stars in her eyes and a smile on her lips, gently crying and hoping that I'll change, I wish that I could change. I sometimes just sit and watch her, knowing she loves me and secure in that knowledge, and marvel at this aspect of my life. She's the one part of me that has managed to stay pure, untainted. She's all those years I wasn't quite the top anymore, all those years I was straddling perfect, but not quite getting there. When I see her, I don't see someone who worships me, I see someone who has seen my human side. I catch a glimpse of someone who knows I'm just a man, not a God, and who loves me anyways. I wish I could give her something back. The words and actions elude me, though, and I do not know how to tell her how I feel. So instead, I hurt her by shutting her out, punishing her love for me by ignoring her. I hate what I have become.

Before I come undone

Save me from the nothing I've become

Bring me to life

Frozen inside without your touch without your love

Darling only you are the life among the dead

When I gave up being a ranger, I thought that was the end of the fake me. I thought I would always be free, that I'd have no more worries. But I'm not free, I'm just not. I'm shackled to my demons, struggling to be a man I can be proud of. And even as I sit, crying into the untouched beer a half-dressed blonde has shoved in my direction, Katherine Hillard's name on my lips and her smile in my eyes, I realize that I am still fake. I am still as counterfeit as a wax-man, smiling and trying in vain to run away from all that I was and want to be. I sometimes think that maybe I got it wrong; maybe the power isn't what made me and instead I shaped the power. Maybe I was stupid in thinking that the power was hurting me, holding me back. Scary, isn't it? Thinking that the power was better than the real me could ever be.

All this time I can't believe I couldn't see

Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me

I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems

Got to open my eyes to everything

I reach out a trembling hand and take a sip of the amber, bitter liquid frothing in the mug. Maybe, just maybe, love will be a good enough substitute for power coins and zeo crystals one day. Maybe I will one day feel secure enough to stop obsessing over what I was with the power, and focus on who I could be without it.

So maybe I go through turmoil over the things I do. So I'm not all-knowing or all-seeing, I'm only human. So my pedestal has a few cracks in it. Does that mean I'm less-than-perfect? In their eyes, yes.

And I can live with that.

Without a thought without a voice without a soul

Don't let me die here

There must be something more

Bring me to life