Disclaimer: Nobody belongs to me. This universe sort of does. Set analogus to White Thunder in the ATAP timeline.
Author's note: Big thanks to Nalanzu for betaing both of these vignettes, and no thanks to uncoporative characters.
Genesis of Evil
by Smittysgirl
Trent's head swam like a lower order of mammal in desperate search of food. He had been having more and more of these blackouts lately; though his father had begun to prescribe medication for him. He supposed he should have been more worried, but he knew his father would have diagnosed anything more severe than stress migraines.
He leaned against the wall, in desperate hope that his dizziness would go away. Not that it ever did, of course. He seemed to move around in life lately with a distinct lack of connection to it.
The sound of machinery humming drew Trent back to attention. Had he wandered into one of his dad's factories? It was certainly possible. The first time his blackouts had happened, he'd been pretty much bowled over by Cassidy Cornell in her cheerleading regalia.
He grunted in frustration, making his way down the narrow hallway and following the noises. Maybe his father was nearby. Maybe he had a perfectly good reason for being in a dimly lit facility at - he checked his watch - 2 in the morning.
Maybe, nothing. The was something wrong here.
"Fasssster," came a low voice from the adjoining warehouse. Trent had to strain to hear the hiss underneath the nearly deafening sound of the surrounding machines.
Trent froze. Where was here? What was going on? Did the blackouts have to do with... this?
The woman - Elsa! Trent recognized her from the news! She moved beside a disgusting reptilian creature, probably her master and made a vague curtseying motion.
"Yessssss," he hissed, examining a large stone in his hands. "It has taken us eight attempts to transfer the gem's power to a more viable receptacle, but I believe we have at last found the means by which to unlock our own Ranger."
"That's excellent news, master," Elsa said, positively simpering. It took all of Trent's reflexes to not gag in disgust.
The creature held the stone up to the light, and it twinkled luminously. "Where isss the boy?"
"I'll have him fetched, master," Elsa said, and turned to a tyrannodrone. Trent froze.
Taking stock of his whereabouts, Trent quickly made his way into a utility closet. By the time the creature had checked where he'd woken up, Trent could flank its position and get out of here.
But why would Elsa's master want him?
Why Trent Hernandez-Mercer, the son of Anton Mercer? And what else was going on here?
Heavy footsteps fell in the hallway outside, and Trent stiffed. A shadow underneath the doorway did not move with the others.
He stood stock still, barely managing to breathe.
The door creaked open. "Trent?" came a warm and familiar voice.
"Dad?"
Was he imagining all this? Was it all a dream? Trent desperately hoped so.
"Son, I've been worried sick about you. You left the house last night after dinner. If the night manager hadn't called me when he noticed you sneaking around I probably would have called the police."
"Sorry, Dad," Trent said. Had he just imagined the creature, Elsa, and the drones? He must have. He was going insane.
His father shook his head, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Trent, that's not the point. Now come on, let's get you out of this closet and back to your own bed. We'll sort things out in the morning."
Trent nodded. "Right. Sorry about this, Dad."
They trudged out of the closet, and were suddenly pounced upon by drones. Trent screamed, but his father stepped back unaccosted by the robotic dinosaurs. "This is for your own benefit, son."
"Dad?" Trent cried as the creatures grabbed his arms and legs. "What's going on, Dad?"
His father smiled coolly.
"Take him," he said, the reptilian creature's voice emanating from his mouth. "We will begin the bonding shortly."
"Bonding?" Trent asked as the creatures dragged him away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see green light.
Trent was bundled into a room which looked familiar.
i Have I been here before? /i . The drones tossed him into a chair, and busily tied him to it. Trent was surprised that his wrists were free, though he was restrained right below the elbow.
"What are you DOING to me?" he cried. In the distance he could see his father enter with Elsa and a being in unfamiliar black armor. "Dad, PLEASE!"
"Son, don't be afraid. This is a safe procedure," his father said soothingly. Trent looked from his father, to Elsa, to the figure in black, then wildly looked for a way out.
"The device is ready, my lord." Black armor nodded. "I am confident this time the energy transfer will occur without any unfortunate side effects."
"Good," his father hissed, glowing uncontrollably. "This had better not harm my ssson."
"I place my own life on it, sire."
"That's too much to ask for," Elsa sneered.
Trent tried frantically to undo his restraints, but found that having his wrists free only made his inability to reach any of the ties all the more frustrating.
A bright light surrounded his father, morphing him into the creature. "Elsa?"
She nodded purfunctory. "On your mark, Lord Mesogog."
"What are you doing to me?" Trent asked desperately.
The creature smiled. "Because I love you, my son. And what more could a father hope to give his son than the WORLD?"
Trent struggled in the chair. "What are you going to do to me?
The creature - his father - Mesogog steepled his hands calmly. "Give you the power to never be hurt again."
"But I wasn't hurt before!" Trent cried.
"Weren't you, Trent? This world has not been kind to you. The deaths of your birth parents. The pain and hardship that comes with being the son of a successssful man. Your difficulty making friends and not being judged as a Mercer. So much you could accomplish if not mired down amid this human rabble."
"But I have a good job. A nice boss. A girl I like...."
"And imagine how much more you'll have when you ssserve at my side," Mesogog said smoothly.
Trent shivered at the tone. This creature... this creature was his father? No, this creature was his father, twisted in unimaginable ways. And a being who sought to impart those twisted ways to Trent, whether he willed it or not.
A 'drone placed a bracelet on his wrist and quickly backed away. Mesogog nodded to Elsa. "Begin."
Lightning crackled from the machine, arching through Trent's body. The gem on the bracelet began to glow with an unholy light.
"Dad...." he groaned, as the power spread through him. "Don't."
"The Dinogem is responding well to the energy we siphoned out of it," black armor said from his instrumentation. "There appear to be no significant complications."
The bracelet on his wrist grew warm. Trent arched.
Trent bolted upright, warm and secure in his own bed. God, what a nightmare that had been!
He stretched, and got out of bed. Her seriously needed to watch what he ate; it was giving him really weird dreams.
A throbbing pain eminated from his wrist, and Trent clutched instictively at the ... the bracelet? Oh no.
"Shit!" he swore, nearly flying out the door in his panic. He grasped at the bracelet, hoping to remove it and drown it in the nearest lake.
Lightning crackled from the gem, exploding across his body and sending him flying back to the bed. A voice seemed to whisper into the darkest recesses of his brain.
Trent opened the door to his balcony and ran onto it. Maybe he should drown himself in the nearest lake.
Trent...
The voice seemed cold and foreign and familiar all at the same time.
Trent...
Trent jumped the balcony.
Light erupted all around him, and he landed on the ground in a perfect perch. How had he done that?
Trent! the voice said again, more insistant.
"Go away!" he cried, running towards the lake.
I can't, Trent. And I don't think you want me to, either.
"Yes, I do," Trent cried, the inviting depths of the lake coming closer and closer.
Trent, the voice said sternly in a tone he had heard all too often from his father, I want you to look at your hand before you do this.
Trent looked. A white gloved hand flexed experamentally in the moonlight.
You can't drown, Trent. You generate your own atmosphere in this form.
"I'm sure as hell going to try!"
Look at your reflection, Trent. Tell me what you see.
Trent looked. Instead of a hispanic young man in pajamas, he found himself looking at a figure in a helmet and fierce looking armor. "What... oh, shit!"
This is your father's gift, Trent.
"I don't want it!" Trent screamed, running into the waves, willing himself to become ... Trent.
Light erupted around his body, reverting him back to his haggard form.
Do you understand what happened to you tonight? Do you understand who i am?
"I was...." Trent's mind burbled around the concept. "I... Mesogog's my father! He kidnapped me!" He'd been given the bracelet, bombarded with energy ....
Mesogog wanted him as one of his people. Trent wasn't about to allow that.
Your father loves you, Trent. More than words, more than there are stars in the sky. He wants only what is best for you.
Trent realized with a start the voice was his own, but colder and more detached. He waded deeper into the inviting waters.
"I don't think so," he said.
The suit rematerialized around him.
We can do this all night if that's what you want. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you.
Trent suck to his knees in the lake water. "I don't want this!"
What is it you think you're refusing, Trent?
"Whatever Mesogog wants." Of that, he was certain. He hadn't chosen this suit. He didn't care if he lay at the bottom of the lake for a thousand years, he didn't want to do whatever Mesogog had planned for him.
Mesogog wants only what you want for yourself. Mesogog has never lied to you, Trent. Not like your friends. Not like KIRA.
"Kira hasn't lied!" Trent said, trying to reason with himself. He started crawling towards the lake depths again.
Look at your wrist, Trent. Do you recognize the bracelet?
Trent shook his head, blankly.
Think back. Do you recognize the (accoutrements on your friends?
Trent thought back, rapidly. What had the being inside himself wanted to point out?
The bracelet.
Kira. She'd been wearing a bracelet like his.
Trent gasped, clawing at the jewelry. In a flash it returned to the device it had been a moment earlier.
Do you understand now what she has done to you?
"She's a Ranger," he mumbled numbly.
They all are. Even McKnight. Even Dr. Smitty.
"NO!" Trent screamed. He couldn't believe that. The older man had been like a brother to Trent, and had always been happy to pitch in when crowds got too much to handle at the cybercafe.
Yes, Trent.
Trent stumbled even more. "But... but...."
Trent, don't you see? They've all lied to you. Your father wanted to keep you out of all this, wanted to protect you. His was a lie of omission, one with the noblest of intentions. What excuse does Smith have? Does KIRA have?
"They were... they were trying to protect me too," Trent whispered.
Tell me. Tell me how this was protecting you. Protecting you from your own father? Haven't you seen by now all he wants for you is what is best?
"But my father ... my father is Mesogog ... one of his monsters attacked me ...."
Mesogog also gave you the gem. Gave you ME.
"I didn't ask for you!"
Didn't you? What about the nights you cried yourself to sleep with loneliness? I know you, Trent. I know the fear and uncertainty which clouds your life. I was your father's gift to you to remove all that. You at your maximum potential.
"I don't want to fight!"
Do you think you have that option anymore?
Trent sighed, almost crying. "I want to think so."
The bracelet on his wrist began to pulsate in time with his heart. Trent clutched at it - protectively? To remove it? He didn't even know anymore.
Then don't. I won't force you to do anything you wouldn't normally, that isn't Mesogog's way. Use the powers as you see fit to use them, but accept who you are. Accept the gift you've been given.
"You won't?" Tren taksed.
The voice sighed. Trent, there are subtleties of this you're not grasping. I am not a curse to be forced on you. I simply represent your optimum potential in all things, including a fighter. I bow to your will.
"If you bow to my will, why didn't Mesogog just give me to you, as a gift?"
He tried. Your father gave me to you months ago, but you never responded. He was dreadfully worried something may have gone wrong, you were hallucinating constantly.
"I was?" Trent asked. "I don't remember...."
You don't recall what you did during the blackouts?
Trent shook his head.
Then you see why Mesogog was forced to handle you roughly at the warehouse. You have already had two episodes tonight, and you tried to make a break for it agan. He couldn't know if you were yourself. Activating your dinogem was the only way to end the process.
"He did that?" Trent whispered.
He had to save you, Trent.
"He did?"
I'd say this is preferable to lying dead in a ditch.
"So, how long have you been with me?" Trent asked.
Since October. Do you remember passing out behind the bleachers? You passed it off as dehydration. It was the first time begun to manifest.
"You've been ... you've been with me since October?" Trent asked. "How come I never noticed?"
You noticed the blackouts, I think.
"Yeah, but ... why didn't you make youself known to me before?"
I couldn't. Without the dinogem bonded to you, I was trying to manifest as part of your conscious mind. It was killing us both.
"Bonded to me ... what does that mean?"
What your father did last night bonded your gem to you for life.
Trent paused. "What's a dinogem?"
Trent made his way down the packed hallways of Reefside High with little interference from others - and blessedly little interference from his father's gift. He didn't know what to make of the voice just yet, but it felt good to know he wasn't as crazy as the situation made him feel. Crazy people didn't doubt their sanity. Or at least he didn't think they did.
His senses screamed a warning from behind, and he dodged as a hand shot from behind, intersecting the area of space where he'd just stood.
Conner. Conner McKnight. The Red Ranger, if he was to believe the voice in his head. "Hey, Trent. We missed you the other day after class. Why'd you blow us off?"
Trent shrugged. "I ... had some stuff."
Conner's eyes darkened. "So I guess you put stuff above your friendship with us, huh?"
"Look, I didn't mean to be that late, something happened ...."
"That." Conner shoved him back against the lockers. "Isn't." Shove. "Good." Shove. "Enough!"
Conner continued, ignoring Trent's grunt of pain. "If you want to be our friend, if you want to be something more to Kira, you have to be a friend. Not some spoiled little rich boy putting in his time in the soup kitchen."
"Look, if you have to know, I blacked out again!"
Conner's face contorted into something between a grin and a frown. "Always trying to steal my thunder, aren't you? Even my condition, you had to go and get one of your own."
Trent turned away. "Sod off," he muttered. "I didn't do it on purpose."
"I bet you didn't," Conner drawled. The larger boy seized, clutching at his chest, elbowing Trent in the process. Trent's fight or flee instincts, already on hyperalert, kicked in as well, causing him to swing at the other Ranger.
The force made him stumble backwards, nearly toppling over as he connected with Derrick Rydall, one of Conner's fellow soccer players. Rydall grimaced down at him, shoving Trent aside and moving next to Conner. A ring of jocks and cheerleaders swam around the larger boy, who whimpered in agony.
Though Trent knew Conner couldn't fake this, he'd never want the humiliation or pity, his own condition was getting worse. He had to get out of there, get away. He barreled through the double doors, making his way out back.
"I ... hit Conner," he whispered.
He hit you first, Trent. Don't you remember?
The sequence of events was jumbled, he couldn't remember what started it or what was exchanged.
You're lucky to have gotten out of there in one piece.
"You're right," Trent said.
Look at them.
Trent walked back to the door, peering in the window. The other soccer players were pounding their fists together and making menacing gestures for Conner's benefit.
Cliques stick together. Do you think he won't send all of them after you? He has everything, and still he wants more. He's permitted his eccentricities, but you ... you're persecuted for not being like them. Not allowed to be one of the gang, but not allowed to be different. He's brainwashed them.
"You're right!" Trent declared.
Embrace your father's love, Trent. Embrace his gift to you. Accept me - and Conner can never hurt you again.
Trent nodded.
Light crackled from the bracelet, engulfing his body. Trent was racked by siezure after siezure, throwing his form against the wall. When at last the light show stopped, Trent arose from the ground, his gaze defiant and his posture proud.
He clenched his fist experimentally. "This should do nicely."
Proudly, he strode back towards school.