Disclaimer: Power Rangers, the franchise, the characters, they don't belong to me.
A/N: this fic is based on the song "Denial, Revisited" by The Offspring. Hence the title. No lyrics posted herein, though. I hate that.
Dedication: to Sarafu, who encourages me, inspires me, and worships just as much as I do.
They were coming up on three years. Almost on the day, the first day of school. But school started on different days for them this year, three separate days for three separate schools.
High school graduates. Ex-Power Rangers. They were well on their way to become the future Dr. Thomas Olivers of the world.
"If you could do it again," Ethan had asked as the three of them had gone out for dinner post-graduation, "would you?"
"As in, all over again, from the beginning?" Kira had said. "I think I would."
"Me too," Conner had been hasty to add.
"Oh, me too, no question about it," Ethan had said. "But I meant like Dr. O. Going back to uniform. If a new Ranger team came up, and you had the chance to join, would you?"
"Being a Ranger again?" Conner had said. "Yeah, sure. But I don't know about a different team. I'd rather work with you guys."
They'd smiled at each other sadly, reflecting on their lost powers.
That had been months ago. They'd made the most of the summer, but it was hard now, coming to terms with the fact that they were all going away to school, and things would never again be the same.
Ethan had left two days ago. He'd promised to keep in touch, said his goodbyes to Hayley, Dr. O., Trent, Kira, and Conner. Whatever he said to each of them was said privately. Conner's message had been simply, "Tell her," and an encouraging smile. Then he'd hugged his parents, and Ethan James boarded his plane to Boston.
Now Kira sat wedged between Trent and Conner in uncomfortably airport chairs, her flight delayed by an hour. Kira's mother had a meeting to go to, and couldn't stay that extra sixty minutes, already cutting it close with the original departure time. So she had left her daughter in the care of the two strong men that she always seemed to be around, and had left with sincerest apologies.
Trent and Conner were friends now, though very distantly--more like acquaintances. Actually, more like Conner couldn't stand him, even after all this time. Trent and Kira had been going out for six months, having allotted themselves a lot of time to heal from his evil stint before progressing in their relationship. Conner stood by and watched, happy that Kira was happy, but feeling the ache more and more with every day.
He was prepared to let her go without a word. She was going to school in NYC, wanting the thrill of living in a big city. She would get a chance to perform nightly if she found locales willing to accept her. Conner didn't doubt that she would find several. He was prepared to let her go, to live out her life, possibly with Trent by her side. Trent was as yet undecided about his future plans, and claimed he wanted to travel. He'd probably make a lengthy pit stop in New York, much to Conner's dismay.
But Ethan's words two days ago had left Conner reeling. Telling Kira was something he wasn't prepared to do. It wasn't as though he was afraid of rejection --though he was, to some degree-- but rather that he didn't want to burst the little bubble that Kira had set up for her life. She was happy now, and to disturb that...
"So, Conner, you're leaving tomorrow, right?" Trent asked, his voice sounding excessively loud and unnecessarily happy to Conner's ears.
"Yeah," said Conner coldly. "Thrilled about that, aren't you."
Trent frowned, and Kira jabbed Conner in the chest. "Can I talk to you a minute?" said Kira, dragging him away a few steps. "Could you be civil?" she hissed when they were out of earshot.
Conner glared at Trent over Kira's shoulder. "I don't like him."
"You never have," she retorted irritably. "But the least you could do is be nice." Kira sighed deeply. "I can't believe we're having this stupid fight again." She touched his arm gently. "Please, Con, for me? Just this once, just for today."
He would have to make an effort for her. She was leaving, and more than anything, he didn't want her to leave mad. Well, more accurately, more than anything, he didn't want her to leave at all. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll play nice."
"Thank you," said Kira, and they returned to the little area they'd set up for the wait.
"I'm going to go grab a snack," Trent announced, unusually jovial for someone who was about to ship his girlfriend off to the opposite coast. "Anyone want anything?"
"No thanks," said Kira, while Conner shook his head and smiled politely. Trent disappeared into the crowd, in search of the food court, leaving Conner and Kira alone.
They sat in silence. The weight of change was heavy over the both of them.
"I never thought you'd stay in California," said Kira after a moment. He was surprised that she'd dropped the topic of his rudeness to her boyfriend. Not that he was complaining. She probably just wanted to make sure things ended on a good note. "I always pegged you to jet out of here as soon as you could."
"I've grown attached to this place," he answered with a soft smile, not meeting her eyes. He'd grown attached with the memories of the times he'd spent here during the past two years, fun times with friends, moments of great pride and accomplishment. He wasn't ready, not just yet, to go somewhere and have to create a set of all new memories, all by himself.
Her hand was on his arm then, a soft and gentle touch that made him feel hopeful and deadened, all at once. "It's gonna be okay, you know."
"I'm gonna miss you, Kira," said Conner, finally meeting her gaze. "More than anything."
She nodded, opening her mouth to speak.
"I have to tell you something," he continued, the words flowing out of him in a torrent, with the knowledge that if he didn't speak now, he never would. He brushed her hand off his arm, and instead went to squeeze it within his own. She was staring at him with confusion in her eyes. "And this isn't the best time, I know, but I have to say it, Kira. I've waited way too long to say it."
He'd practiced it in his room. A dorky move he'd tried sometime last year, standing in front of his mirror. It had been lame and desperate, but he'd been holding onto the hope that maybe something he said when he was staring at his own reflection would be sparkling eloquence that would make Kira love him back. But now that she was actually there, anything he'd rehearsed --nothing sparkling had ever come about-- had utterly vanished.
"Conner..." she began.
"I love you," he blurted. There, he'd said it, and he thought it would feel better, worse, something. But he couldn't feel anything except terror, clawing at him.
Her face didn't change. Horror didn't seep into her expression, nor did her hand leave his panicked grip. She just stared at him, and for every millisecond that passed with no reaction, he grew more petrified.
"What?" she said finally, blinking.
"I love you," he said again. "I've been in love with you for a long time now, and I couldn't let you leave without you knowing."
The reaction he hadn't been prepared for was the stream of tears that now cascaded down her cheeks. "God, you idiot!" she said, hitting him firmly in the chest, a blow that didn't merely sting as her exasperated jabs usually did, but actually hurt. "How could you! Why here, why now!"
Conner couldn't fathom any of this: the tears, the anger. She was angry, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. In the back of his mind, he kept thinking that if somehow he could get the words to come out right, that she'd stay for him. It was a crazy, irrational, selfish thought, but he needed something to cling to, and the fiction building itself in his mind was far better than the reality he was suffering through now.
She hit him a second time, as hard as before, if not harder. "You--" she began, but lost the words en route from her head to her lips. Lost them, or chose to push them back. He hoped for the latter.
"I'm sorry," said Conner desperately. He knew he could make her stay, he just had to find out how. But he'd never been particularly articulate, and it was going to be the end.
"You're a jerk," she said.
"Why am I a jerk?" he asked, feeling some of the fire returning to his belly, the same irritation that always came when he and Kira got into one of their spats. He willed his voice not to rise.
"Because I'm going to be leaving for New York today, and you decide to pull this crap on me. You wait for my boyfriend to go out and get food--"
"Yeah, you're leaving for an undisclosed amount of time, and he goes to get food," said Conner.
"Don't even. God," she huffed, blowing her bangs off her face. He looked away sharply, irritated with himself that he was softened by the cuteness of the gesture. "You suck."
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Conner. This changes everything."
"It changes nothing," said Conner hopelessly. "You're still leaving. You're still with Trent. Nothing has changed, except for now you know."
He grabbed her hand, about to ask --to plead-- that she stay, but Trent chose that moment to return, chomping into a muffin. He produced a bottle of apple juice. "Thought you might be thirsty," he said with a smile, handing it to Kira. She grinned her thanks up at him. Conner looked away. Trent brought her a bottle of her favorite drink, and he got a smile like that. Conner confessed his love, and got hit. For months Trent had tried to kill them, and all was forgiven with juice.
But it wasn't forever. As Trent and Kira chatted and laughed, Conner sat there sullenly, reminding himself for what seemed the millionth time that it wasn't forever. They wouldn't last. Things seemed okay now, but there was too much negative history.
"Now boarding, flight 407 nonstop to New York City from gate 18," came the announcement.
Kira stood up, her smile vanishing. "That's me." She threw her backpack over one shoulder, and made her way through the rows of chairs to the line that had assembled. She hovered back from the line a few steps, seeing it, biting her lip, and glancing back to Conner and Trent. She dropped her bag unceremoniously on the floor and threw her arms around Trent.
Whatever the two of them said to each other, it was as secret as the private goodbyes Ethan had issued when he'd left. Conner averted his eyes, staring at the scuffed floor until Kira touched his shoulder. "Con."
He looked at her, and she put her arms his waist, as high as she could comfortably hug him without him stooping. He squeezed her back tightly, not wanting to ever let her go. "Don't go mad," he whispered, though what he really wanted to say was 'don't go at all.'
"I'm not mad," said Kira softly. "You're my best friend; you know that, right?"
"I know," he said. "I'll miss you."
"I'll keep in touch." He didn't doubt that she would.
Kira released him, grabbing her backpack off the floor. When she straightened again, he bent down and kissed her cheek. She flashed him a sad smile, through a river of tears. She got in line.
Conner and Trent stood apart, watching her go. They didn't speak as she moved through the line, nor did they when she boarded the plane, nor when they stood at the windows and saw the plane disappear into the sky. If Trent was suspicious or jealous, it didn't show. He didn't even seem upset about Kira's departure. Maybe it hadn't sunk in yet, or maybe he just had a remarkable ability to hide his emotions.
Conner sat in his car in the parking lot, the keys in his hand, for a long time. Someday she'd realize what she had left behind in Reefside, of this he was convinced. He would wait here until then. Aside from remaining her friend, there was nothing else he could do until that day came.