Norman, Silver, Purple, Gaby, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; strong sexual references.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
A/N: This story and 'Connections' take place at the same time, and I am posting them at the same time. They are separate but related stories, and can be read together or separately.
"Jesus. I hate hospitals." Wes sighed, sitting slumped in an uncomfortable chair in his father's hospital room. He had spent most of the night there, waiting and watching. Now the day had dawned, the first rays of the sun beaming in through the slats of the window blinds with annoying cheerfulness.
Jen smiled at him. Last night he had insisted she go home and get some rest, but she had returned almost at first light. "You do seem to spend a lot of time in them," she said.
"Yeah. Too much time." The time Ransik had injured his father. When Eric had been almost killed in the final battle with Ransik's robots. Later, when Wes himself had been sick, when he had been shot, every time a Guardian had been injured...
"The doctor said he'll be fine. Just a mild concussion."
"But this shouldn't have happened..."
"What do you mean?"
Wes looked up at her. Maybe it was the worry, the sight of his father lying in that hospital bed, maybe it was a missed night of sleep, but he could feel tears threaten. "I should have known Norman might go after my family. To get to me. To get to Eric through me. I should have been there... should have protected him..."
"You can't blame yourself. No one could predict what someone like Norman will do."
"I should have."
"Wes..." She came closer and sat in another chair. "You can't blame yourself. Not everything that goes wrong is your fault."
"But I should have..."
"No. You always do this. Worry too much. Feel like you have to take care of everyone."
He smiled. "Sorry."
"It's a serious character flaw." She returned the smile warmly.
He raised a hand to run his fingers through his hair until a voice startled him, saying, "Wes?" in a hoarse tone.
"Dad!" They both looked at the bed, seeing Collins blinking at them, looking dazed but conscious. "Dad, how do you feel?"
"Like I've been hit on the head. Are you okay?"
"We're fine."
Collins' eyes sharpened. "Philips?"
"He's got some bruises and a sprained elbow. But he'll be fine."
"Good. What about Ryder? Did you get him?"
Wes sighed, and exchanged a resigned glance with Jen. "No. Not yet. But we will."
"Any leads?"
"Nothing so far. But he's not exactly lying low. Sooner or later we'll run into him again, or track him down. We'll get that bastard."
"Wes, maybe you should call Eric back."
"Jen and I can handle it, Dad. Don't worry."
"That's right," Jen added. "We beat them last night. We can do it again. Hopefully, next time they won't get away." She glanced at Wes, then back at Collins. "Do you feel up to telling us what happened?"
"Sure..." Collins pushed himself up, wincing as he changed positions. Wes stepped over to the bed quickly, helping him sit up, arranging his pillows, and easing him back onto them. When he was comfortable, he smiled at them as Wes sat down again.
"They showed up right after dinner. Just knocked on the back door. Philips answered... they forced their way in. I was in the living room, they ran in and grabbed me, too." He frowned, a hint of the fear he must have experienced shadowing his face. "They held us there for about an hour, I guess. Didn't hurt us, but... Ryder threatened us. Wanted to know where Eric and Gaby are." His eyes moved up to meet theirs. "I didn't tell him."
"Good, Dad."
"You have to stop him, Wes. An hour of listening to him... He's crazy. Kept ranting about Eric and you. How you don't deserve any of the things you have. He hates you." He paused. "I think even his obsession with Gaby has more to do with taking her away from Eric than with wanting her for himself."
Wes glanced at Jen. He nodded. "I think you're right. For Norman, it's all about power, all about beating us, and beating Bio-Lab."
"Well, we just have to make sure he doesn't do it," Jen said.
Twenty minutes later, Wes and Jen were headed out. They paused outside the hospital doors, taking a deep breath of fresh outside air. Wes blinked up at the bright sun.
"I should go out and join the search for our men," Wes said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "They still haven't found any trace of them."
"Wes, you're tired. Go home and get some rest."
"I don't feel tired. Couldn't sleep anyway. Steve is covering for me at Bio-Lab, I think I should go." He looked at her face. "What are you going to do?"
"Go back to the stationhouse. Jimmy's working on your truck robbery, I'll see if he needs a hand. If not, I'll go help with the search, too."
"Okay. See you later then." He half-smiled. "Wish we had one of those mutant DNA detectors right now, so we could find Norman fast, before he can hurt anyone else…" Wes frowned as his cell phone rang.
"Commander Collins?"
He recognized the voice instantly. "Yes. What is it, Steve?"
"We've got a lead. A big one. Got a report of someone seeing a couple of cyclobots. A silver one and a purple one."
"Silver and Purple. Where?"
"The old Hillside silver mine. A couple of hikers saw them. When we got here we found footprints."
Wes looked up at Jen. "Maybe we've got our wish." He returned to the phone. "You're there already?"
"Yeah. Got a squad with me."
"Okay. Don't do anything until we get there. We go in first. Okay?"
"Got it. See you."
Wes hung up and briefly touched Jen's arm. "Steve thinks he's found them, in an old silver mine that's been closed up for -- at least fifty years. It's a perfect hideout for Norman."
"What are we waiting for?"
"Nothing. Let's go."
"No one here. Strange." It had taken them only five minutes to arrive after morphing. Wes pushed himself out of the small cockpit of his personal flyer and stood on one of the wings for a moment, looking over the scene. It was a wooded area, on the side of a large hill, rocks scattered around and the ground uneven, probably from the mining operation that had once gone on there. The mine entrance gaped emptily, a dark tunnel leading into the hill. There were footprints, all right, and loose boards on the ground that had obviously been intended to block the entrance. But nothing, and no one, else.
"Could they have gone inside?" Jen asked. He turned to see her leap to the ground from her own flyer.
"Steve wouldn't disobey orders. Not if he had a choice." He jumped down also and joined her.
"No signs of struggle here… and where are the cars?"
"Don't know. But after whatever Norman did to Mitchell and Daniels… I don't like this."
"Yeah." She looked around again, hands on hips. "We have to go in. They must be in there."
"Right. You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." Her helmeted head turned towards him. "Have to admit, I'd feel better if Eric was here."
"So would I. But Steve and his troop are in there. We'll have backup, when we find them."
"I hope so," she muttered.
They started in, walking slowly and silently into the tunnel, the optics in their helmets adjusting for the darkness, seeing the debris of the work that had gone on here, wooden planks lining the ground, rocks and pieces of ore tossed here and there. After the first few yards it was deathly quiet, the sounds of the forest fading behind them. Soon they were moving through inky black, feeling the air turn chill and clammy through the ventilation in their suits, feeling as if they were completely cut off from the rest of the world.
"Look," Jen said.
There was light ahead, someone had powered up the old mine's work lights. A string of widely spaced bright spots ran above them along the roof. As they moved forward, he could see the dark gaps of other, smaller tunnels or holes along the side of the main tunnel. The light made walking easier, but it meant someone was around, had been using this place. They slowed down. There was no sound, impossible to tell if anyone else was there...
"Look out!" Wes shouted. He and Jen stepped back, falling into fighting position, back to back. From the side tunnels, there were two glimmers, one silver and one purple, as the two robots moved into view, the bright lights gleaming and glittering on their metal skins.
They stepped out and stood quietly. Then Norman appeared from the far end of the main tunnel, smiling maliciously as he came closer, his hair dazzlingly bright, his eyes literally flashing silver.
"How nice of you to visit," he said.
"We're not here for a social call," Wes retorted. "Where are my men? The Silver Guardians, and the guard and driver from the truck you robbed?"
"Your Guardians are safely back at their base, I imagine. I really don't know."
"Bullshit. They called us here."
Norman grinned wider. "Silver, if you would..."
"Commander Collins, we've got a lead. A report of someone seeing a couple of cyclobots." The voice was Steve Miller's, but it was coming from the silver robot. Wes stared in astonishment and growing alarm.
"You... it wasn't Miller on the phone."
"No," Norman said. "My creations are quite good at imitating voices." He laughed. "And you fell for it, without a second thought. Stupid."
"So this was a trap," Jen said.
"Of course."
Wes took a step forward. "What have you done with our guard and driver?"
Norman shrugged. "I sent them on a little -- trip." He snickered, stepping forward himself, his expression twisting into a snarl. "And now, we're all alone. And you're going to tell me what I want to know."
"No way," Wes retorted.
"Aren't you going to call Eric? Save me the trouble of finding him?"
"And have him walk into a trap, too? We can take care of you ourselves. Right, Jen?"
"No problem."
"All right then. Let the game begin." Norman waved a hand at Silver and Purple. With no more warning, the two robots dashed at them from both sides, both moving together, each spinning to slam a sweeping kick at them. Wes blocked Purple's foot, pushing it up to throw the robot on his back, glancing back to see Jen duck and side-kick Silver, before he was forced to concentrate on his own opponent.
Purple rolled to his feet and came back swinging, punching like a boxer now. Wes blocked again, bent to the side and twisted, and drove a fist into the robot's stomach. A moment later he regretted it, as pain shot through his hand from the impact with hard metal. Purple smiled, a disturbingly human expression, and grabbed for him. Wes dropped to one hand and knee and kicked out in a sweep at his legs, spinning back up and stamping at his purple face as he fell.
Jen came into view, attacking Silver aggressively, leaping to deliver a quick one-two double kick at the robot's chest, driving him back, hitting the ground to bounce back in a spin and a back kick, sending Silver slamming against the wall of the tunnel. Her opponent hit, and immediately pushed off, hitting her in the chest. She fell on her back, rolled her legs up, and flipped back to her feet, ducking another punch.
Meanwhile, Purple had grabbed up a long, slim metal pipe from the discarded materials on the tunnel floor and tucked it under one arm, whipping it at Wes backhanded. He ducked, saw it come at him again, and threw himself into a roll, recovering and turning back.
Purple moved towards Jen from behind, lifting the pipe, then hesitating just for a heartbeat. Just long enough. Wes ran a few steps and jumped, crashing into the robot, then wrestling him for the pipe. Jen turned, saw them, knocked Silver back with a fast back kick, and grabbed the end of the pipe, sliding it out of Purple's grip with a hard yank. A moment later, she was ramming it into Silver's midsection. He doubled up and staggered against the tunnel wall.
Wes rolled onto his back, Purple on top of him, and kicked him up and over, holding on to his upper arms to send him slamming into the ground. A split second later, he was on his feet, blaster summoned and pointed at Purple's head. The robot froze, staring at him, metallic anger on his face. Jen had her own blaster in hand and aimed now, and was facing off with Silver.
"Looks like we win this game," Wes panted. "Your playmates are down. Give up before we do the same to you, Norman."
"Give up? But the fun's just begun." Wes glanced up, to see Norman standing several yards away, smiling with surprising confidence, one hand behind his back. He brought it out now, holding a large, odd-looking gun. His smile widened as he raised it.
"No you don't!" Wes cried, swinging his blaster around. But Purple was ready, he uncoiled from the ground and grabbed Wes's wrist, forcing it up and behind his head, a metal arm closing around his neck.
"Wes!" he heard, and saw Jen turn toward him, distracted just for the moment Silver needed to jump at her, twisting her arm behind her, a rough hand behind her shoulder driving her down to her knees.
"Excellent." Wes looked up at the sound of Norman's voice. Saw him smile again, the chill of menace in that unfriendly expression, the strange gun coming at them, firing, but not bullets or energy blasts. A large pellet came from it, hitting the ground between them and bursting.
A fog of pale violet smoke drifted over them, seeming to move in slow motion. He realized it was gas, leaving a purple haze in the air, a haze that seemed to distort his vision, a faint, sweet smell as the world began to change around him, a hint of something else behind it...
Sudden fatigue came over him. With a last coherent thought, he looked for Jen, seeing her collapse to her hands and knees, and then roll onto her back. He slumped down, falling to his knees, then to his face, so tired, a moment of vertigo coming and going, darkness, silence, peace, and then...
A sweet smell, like flowers, like the garden behind his house. A voice was talking to him, the words not making sense, not yet. He shook his head, raised a hand to rub his eyes. There was light when he opened them, daylight, the brightness of early morning. A cool breeze. He was sitting on a stone bench in the garden at the back of his house, near the swimming pool. And not alone.
"Wes? Are you all right?"
"Huh? Dad? How..." he glanced around in confusion. There had been a fight -- a man, a woman -- Jen... "How did I get here? What happened?"
"You looked like you drifted off for a minute. Typical." Collins smiled, but not approvingly. "You usually fall asleep when I talk business."
"No..." Wes struggled to his feet, fighting a wave of dizziness. "Something happened..."
"What?"
"I -- I don't remember... I was fighting someone, I was morphed..." He stared at his left arm. "Where's my morpher?"
"Your morpher?" His father was staring, face dismayed. "You know you don't have a morpher."
"What are you talking about?" Wes pressed a hand to his head again, images blurring in confusion, trying to hold on to memories which seemed to distort as he reached for them.
"Wes, son..." Collins frowned at him. "You must have been dreaming. You were the red Ranger only once, when the others needed you to unlock the morphers. Jen never let you use it again. They didn't need you, not after Eric got his morpher and joined the team. I know you were disappointed, but you have to face reality. You're not a Ranger, and you never will be again."
TBC...
