Wes, Eric, Jen, Alex, Zaskin, Miller, and Mr. Collins belong to Disney/Saban.
Nightwing/Dick Grayson, Batman/Bruce Wayne, and Oracle/Barbara Gordon belong to DC Comics/Time Warner.
Tony Newman, Doug Phillips, and Ann MacGregor belong to Irwin Allen Productions.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Gaby, Rick, Norman, and any others you don't recognize are mine.

Rated PG-13 : Crude language; violence; sexual references.

Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.

The Time Tunnel


This Old House

Nightwing glanced again at the house he was watching from his seat in a tree, a large, two-story home set back from the road, almost hidden in the woods on a slight rise. A big place, impressive, somehow mysterious despite the afternoon sun.

After only a few hours of sleep in his hotel room, he had gone back to Bio-Lab and spent much of the day there, interviewing the scientific staff, inspecting the scene of the battle and the disappearance. One fact stood out dramatically. They needed to recover that machine Rick Quinn had been using, if they were to have any chance of getting those six people back. True to Lt. Quinn's word, the police had cooperated. Jimmy Duran had given him what they had discovered, when he had come to Bio-Lab that morning.

"You were right," he had said. "The hairs we found on that cap were dyed."

"What was the natural color?" Nightwing had asked.

A puzzled frown. "The lab guys said they're not sure. Maybe white. Said the hairs don't look quite human."

"A wig, maybe?"

"Maybe." Jimmy sounded dubious.

"I think it was Blondie at Bio-Lab. The same guy Eric and I ran into before."

Miller had been there too, also with some interesting information. "Bio-Lab had a biochemist who was also into engineering and robotics, showed a lot of interest in the original cyclobots. He quit a few months ago." He held out a photograph.

"I think that's him." With only a glance at the mystery man's face, he couldn't be entirely sure. But it looked like him. "What's his name?"

"Norman Ryder."

"Why did he quit?"

Miller smiled without humor. "He had creative differences with his supervisors, especially Dr. Zaskin. I remember Norman. It was obvious he had a big crush on Gaby. Ms. Butler. She hardly noticed him. He quit around the time she started dating Eric."

"Three people he had a grudge against. All at Bio-Lab. All missing. But he has brown hair..."

"Could be dyed. Or a wig."

Jimmy, listening in, looked thoughtful. "We can try for a search warrant. But frankly, I don't think we have enough."

"Maybe I'll just check him out."

"Don't do anything illegal," Jimmy had said.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Nightwing had replied with a grin. "See you later."

It was Ryder's house he was watching now, Ryder's house he intended to get a look at from the inside, as soon as he took care of a little problem. He looked down at the man he had spotted a few minutes ago, as he slipped through the trees. Then he moved, easing himself silently through the branches, dropping to the ground with only a light thump.

"Shit!" Miller's usually impervious surface was broken by surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Nightwing demanded.

"The same as you. Checking Ryder out."

"I intend to go inside. Alone. You can keep watch, if you want." He turned away.

"Wait." Miller came after him. "I'm going with you."

"Look, Mr. Miller, I appreciate the offer, but..."

"Eric, Wes, and Gaby are my friends," he interrupted. "If we run into more cyclobots, you'll need help. And -- call me Steve."

Nightwing considered him for a moment. "Think you can keep up?" he asked.

"Just watch me."

They slipped closer, under cover of the trees. It was a quiet area, away from the main roads, no other houses visible once they were away from the street. Quietly they moved through the shadows and paused under a large oak in back of the house.

"We can climb up here," Nightwing said, his voice not much more than a whisper. He looked up at the house. Up close, it showed signs of age and neglect, the paint cracked and peeling, a shutter sagging, the grass overgrown. When Steve nodded, he started up, pausing halfway to see the Guardian doing a very credible job of climbing after him.

Moments later they were quietly sliding open a window on the second floor. It let them into a cramped attic room, airless, dusty, and hot from a day of sun shining in through the single window. They stopped to listen, and then cautiously opened the door.

It was an old-fashioned layout, a hallway leading past several doors, all shut, a narrow stairway leading down. The house was silent, and had the subliminal feel of emptiness. They opened each door, finding empty, dusty bedrooms, only one showing signs of occupancy, and a bathroom. Then they started down the flight of steep, shadowy stairs.

"This guy's name should be Norman Bates," Nightwing muttered.

"Who?"

"Jesus. Remind me to take you to the movies when this is over."

A few more minutes turned up nothing more than a few small electronic parts scattered on a coffee table. Nightwing stopped at the last door left to check.

"Looks like a basement," he said, seeing a stairway leading down into darkness.

"Let's go."


Jen looked up at the sky apprehensively. It was afternoon already. Soon they would be facing their second night in a cave. She glanced around. At least no one had wandered off, and they were close to their cave, not that it afforded them all that much protection.

The day had been spent exploring the immediate neighborhood, with indifferent results. She had hoped to find better shelter, but nothing had turned up. On the other hand, they had found plentiful supplies of nuts and seeds, and a few more eggs. They had collected plenty of wood. Of course, if they were here much longer, they'd have to think about ways to hunt, or fish…

The danger of their situation seemed to have sunk in to everyone now, the close call of the day before lowering even Dr. Zaskin's spirits. Looking at them now, she saw grim faces, reddened by sunburn, damp with sweat. She blinked irritated eyes and sneezed again.

"How are you holding up?" Gaby's voice asked from behind her.

"Me? I'm fine."

"Dr. Zaskin says the air here is full of pollen. That must be why you're sneezing so much."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out on my own."

"Why don't you take a break?"

Jen paused to drag the back of one hand across her forehead. "We're all tired. Probably should head back."

"Okay. Sit down for a minute. I'll get the others."

Before she could protest, Gaby was rounding up the other two. In moments they were walking through the strange, fern-like bushes, keeping a wary eye out for large animals with sharp teeth.

Jen found herself walking with Gaby again. "Thanks," she said.

"You've been taking care of us since we got here. You need to get some rest."

"I'm okay."

Gaby was silent for a while. They drew slightly away from the others. "Do you think we'll get out of this? Get home?" she finally asked, a slight quiver in her voice.

Jen glanced at her, reading a mute appeal for reassurance in her face. But she was too tired for lies. "I don't know," she said. "Wes and Eric, and hopefully Time Force, will do whatever they can."

Gaby hesitated for a moment. "Yes, they'll be looking for us."

"Yeah." They trudged for a few more steps. "Want to know what I keep thinking about?"

"What?"

"It's silly, I guess. But I keep thinking I should have agreed to live in Wes's house. His father's house. That's what he wants, and there's no real reason for us to move out…"

"I can understand why you want to," Gaby said with a quick glance. "Independence. A place of your own, privacy maybe."

"But Mr. Collins has always been so nice…"

"You still call him Mr. Collins?"

"Yeah, can't get used to calling him Alan."

"Wait till you're married. He'll want you to call him Dad."

"I don't know if I could ever do that," Jen said with a laugh.

"He has been nice to you. And that's a beautiful, big house."

"But I'm already living in his home, eating his food, wearing the clothes he and Wes paid for... He's going to end up paying for most of the wedding, too. I just -- want something of my own, you know? But I don't want to make Wes unhappy..."

When Jen glanced at her, Gaby smiled. "I totally understand how you feel."

"You're not going to take a chance and express an opinion about what I should do, are you?"

"Hell, no."

"I just hope I have to actually make that decision someday."

They walked on in silence for a few steps before Gaby spoke again. "I keep thinking..."

"What?"

"You've known Eric longer than I have. Do you think he'd ever want us to move in together?"

"Is that what you want?"

"I... I don't really know. I mean, yes, I do, but I kind of figure he'll never want to... That maybe it would be a mistake..." She sighed. "I'm not usually so indecisive. Eric can be hard to figure out."

"That's probably an understatement." Jen smiled. "Wes knows him better than I do. I think -- deep down he just wants to belong."

Gaby gave her a quick glance. "I think so too. He wants -- well, love. A family. But something about it scares him." She paused. "He's changed, since that whole business with his parents. But he'll never really get over his childhood."

"Hey!" Rick's voice interrupted them. "Come on! You won't believe what we found!"

"Not again," Jen muttered, shaking her head as Gaby grinned at her.


In his basement workshop, Norman looked around, taking a mental inventory. He had sent most of the cyclobots off with his most important equipment. The machine from Bio-Lab was still there, he didn't want it out of his sight. About two dozen cyclobots surrounded him, loaded with various odds and ends he had decided to take at the last minute.

For a moment, he allowed himself to feel sad at leaving his home. Anger quickly took over, however, anger at the way he was being driven out. If that costumed freak hadn't attacked him, hadn't pulled his mask off, he wouldn't be in this position, forced to run away and hide in his secret factory, forced to be afraid they would find him anyway. He knew the Guardians knew who he was. At least he would know if they found out about his factory, thanks to what he had left behind in their computers.

The machine… he picked it up, looked at it more closely. His cyclobots had almost dropped it when Nightwing had attacked him outside Bio-Lab. Something else he had to thank that guy for. He looked more closely, trying to see if any parts were loose or looked broken. It seemed unharmed. He smiled. Sooner or later he'd figure out what it was, what it could do. He put it down and looked around for a cyclobot to carry it.


Wes watched Eric move restlessly in his spot by the fire, discomfort obvious in the way he tried, and failed, to find a better position. After a few more moments he sat up.

"Eric, just lie down," Wes said, voice sharp with worry. "You're still weak."

"I'm tired of just lying here…" Eric struggled to his feet. He seemed strong enough, as he gave Wes a disgusted glare and headed for the cave entrance.

"Eric..."

"Can't I get a little fresh air?"

"Okay. I'll go with you."

"Suit yourself." Eric didn't wait, bending stiffly to duck through the cave entrance as Wes stood up.

"Don't go far," Doug said from where he sat next to Tony by the fire. "It's easy to get lost if you're not familiar with the territory."

"Don't worry. We'll be back soon." Wes sighed and followed his partner. The afternoon light renewed his concern as he saw Eric's flushed face, and the slight tension in it that spoke of the pain he refused to admit to.

"Let me see…"

"Not much point, is there?" But he let Wes pull the jacket open, examining the dirty, knotted tee-shirt they had used as a bandage. Wes was momentarily glad it was black. Didn't show the blood much. Unfortunately it failed to completely hide the inflammation that was already reddening the skin. Next he looked at Eric's left forearm, revealed where they had torn his sleeve open to make room for the bandages. It was in even worse shape, swollen, red streaks running up his arm. He had already moved his morpher to his right wrist.

"I'd better not move that bandage." He raised a hand to Eric's face, touching his forehead and then his cheek, before he could move away with an outraged expression. "Eric, you're burning up."

"I know." Those dark eyes met his again. He could see the knowledge in them. After only a day he was sick. Without treatment the infection would probably get worse, the fever would get higher… He would only get sicker, and quickly.

Guilt constricted his heart. "I'm sorry, Eric. This is my fault."

"How do you figure that?"

"If I hadn't shot you with my blaster, when the dinosaur had you…"

Eric made a faint sound of disgust. "That was an accident."

"But if I hadn't missed… you wouldn't have demorphed, and gotten hurt."

"No, that dinosaur would have shaken me to death. This isn't your fault, Wes. Don't start blaming yourself." He looked at Wes's face sharply. "I mean it."

"If you say so." Wes tried to smile.

They both looked out, away from the cave. From where they stood, atop the plateau, they could see out over the expanse of forest, deep greens and browns blending in the sun, to a mountain in the near distance. "That's where we found the Q-Rex," Eric said softly. "This is the same cave where I hid from that Tyrannosaurus."

"I remember."

Eric was still staring into the distance, his face somber, when Wes glanced at him. After a few moments he spoke softly. "I wonder where Gaby and Jen are. What they're doing." He paused. "If they're all right."

"Maybe -- maybe they're already home. Maybe that's why they're not here."

"I hope so."

"Makes you realize what's really important, doesn't it? Jen and I were separated for so long, thought we'd never be able to be together. It seemed like a miracle when we found out she could stay with me. And now -- we've spent so much time arguing about nothing. About where to live. When to get married."

"Yeah. Silverware, for Christ's sake." Eric chuckled for a moment.

"You ever think about marrying Gaby?"

"No." A flicker of some unidentifiable emotion crossed his face. "I don't think I'd make a good husband. Or father."

"I think you would."

"Really?" Eric smiled at him with genuine warmth, rare for him.

"Yeah, really. I think you'd be a natural." He returned the smile.

"Well. Let's hope I get the chance to find out." Eric sighed. A sudden breeze gusted over them, bringing chill air with it. Eric shivered slightly and turned back to the cave. "I'm going in. Getting a little tired. Maybe I should lie down again." He stumbled as he took a step.

"I'll help you." To Wes's surprise -- and alarm -- Eric didn't protest as he put a supporting arm around him. They walked slowly back inside the cave, to the light and warmth of their fire, as Wes tried in vain to leave his anxiety behind.


Silently Nightwing crossed the basement floor, Steve right behind him, taking time to glance around. The place was set up as a workshop, the usual mechanical tools in neat racks. But the real work that had gone on was shown by the electronic parts strewn around, the computer components, disks, CD's, things that were less identifiable. He pointed as he caught sight of what was unmistakably a cyclobot arm, lying on a table.

They could hear sounds now, seeming to come through a wall which was covered with tools on hooks and a tall bookcase. Both of them began to examine it, trying to pinpoint the sound of heavy footsteps and objects being moved, trying to find a way through. After a minute or so they found it.

Steve pulled on a free hook, then nodded as the wall panel it was attached to began to move. Nightwing joined him, and they cautiously swung the panel open a crack, revealing a room on the other side. A big room, dimly lit.

This was the real workshop, it was obvious. More components, more cyclobot parts. And the cyclobots themselves, moving around, carrying things, some of them disappearing through a door on the far side. The walls were lined with computer equipment.

Blondie -- Norman -- was there, too, unmasked this time, except for sunglasses, out of place in that darkened room. His hair was blond again, now, with a silvery gleam. There was something odd about his skin, too, it looked slightly sunburned, with a hint of purple. Strange looking...

They moved closer. The machine from Bio-Lab was sitting on a bench, not far away. Norman wasn't looking, there were no cyclobots in the immediate area. Nightwing caught Miller's eye and signaled. He was just reaching for it...

"Get them!" a voice shouted. He threw a look over his shoulder, to see a cyclobot headed for them. Then Steve jumped forward and intercepted the robot, grabbing it around the 'waist', and twisting to trip it over his leg.

"Take that thing and get out of here!" Steve shouted. Another cyclobot was on top of him, swinging a punch as he ducked and shoved it, sending it falling over the body of its comrade on the floor.

Nightwing lifted the machine, staggering slightly. It was heavier that it looked. "Come on!" he shouted, heading for the stairs, quickly realizing he'd never be able to move fast enough up them to escape. And, as he looked back, he saw Steve in trouble, a pair of robots grasping his arms, struggling to free himself.

Across the room Norman snarled at them. "Finish them off!" he shouted. "Get that machine!"

More cyclobots were coming, reaching out with deadly metal fingers. Nightwing ducked past them, trying to reach Steve, holding the machine in front of him. Then it was yanked out of his grasp as they cornered him, grabbing, barely missing as he twisted away, then not missing, a metal fist catching the side of his face. He fell, head spinning, and saw more hands reaching for him...

But something else was going on. All of them looked up at the sound of blaster fire. Nightwing twisted to look behind him, seeing someone on the stairway, a Ranger, this one in black and white, weapon drawn. He fired again, sending the robots sparking and jerking to collapse on the floor.

Norman ran through the far doorway, followed by a few cyclobots carrying equipment. The remaining cyclobots turned again to attack. The one holding the machine ran to follow its master. Steve pulled free, drew his weapon, and opened fire. Then the Ranger was running past, picking off cyclobots, savagely kicking down the few who got close enough to attack him.

Nightwing crossed the room to Steve. "You okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, sure."

They both ran to follow the Ranger outside, just in time to see him shoot down a last wave of cyclobots. In moments the robots were no more than piles of scrap. They all looked around. There was no sign of Norman or the machine he had stolen.

"Power down," the Black Ranger said. He raised his arm and an instant later was transformed into a man in a white uniform trimmed with black, with dark hair and eyes, but a very familiar face.

Nightwing blinked in astonishment. "Wes?" he asked, uncertainly.

"The name's Alex," the stranger said with a cold stare. Nightwing blinked again. Except for his coloring -- and a completely different attitude -- he was Wes's double. After looking Nightwing up and down, he asked, "Who was that? What's going on here?"

"Who's asking?"

"The Ranger who just saved your lives." Alex frowned.

"It's okay, I know him," Steve said. "He's... an old friend."

"From Jen's time?" Nightwing asked, grinning as Alex shot him a sharp look.

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

"Look, I already know there's time travel involved here. And I'm making a guess you're from the future."

"Clever, aren't you?" Alex said with another cold look.

Nightwing stepped closer. "Six people have disappeared. I'd say the only important thing here is getting them back."

Alex considered him for another moment before surprising him with a smile. "All right." He turned to Steve. "I need to talk to Jen. And Wes, and Eric."

"I'm afraid that's going to be a problem."


TBC...