Fade

Ven had learned a long time ago that the fastest way to blend into the background in a hospital was to wear a white coat and carry a clipboard. It was a trick she used now in Silverhills' main hospital as she headed for Jen's room. Even though it was barely five o'clock in the morning, she didn't rate a second glance.

The plan was for her to assess Jen's condition, while clueing Jen into the present situation, heal as much of it as she could surreptitiously, then later in the day, Jen could be discharged. The doctor in Ven was inclined to balk at the whole plan -- from the injuries Paul had told her about, the best place for Jen was probably hospital. The trouble was, the situation warranted as many hands to the task as possible, and then there was the small matter of Wes.

Ven had seen enough of Wes' reaction to his father's death to judge that he needed Jen even more than they needed her to thwart The Master.

She reached Jen's room and entered. As befitted a head injury victim of this time period, Jen wasn't asleep, though she did look groggy and, presumably as her eyes fell on Ven, puzzled.

"You're not the doctor," Jen finally said.

Ven's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "I'm a doctor, if it helps."

"Who are you?"

"Ven Evore," Ven answered, closing the door behind her. "I don't think we met before Ransik's escape to 2001 -- I'm an old friend of Rob Logan and Alex Collins."

Jen's eyes widened. "You're... Does that mean...?"

Ven nodded. "We're all back -- but that's about as good as the news gets..."

~*~

Kimberly felt a certain amount of trepidation as she led Al into the house. There was no reason for her nerves. Ven had said that Eric would sleep naturally and be waking around about now.

"I'll wait down here," said Al.

And for one insane second, Kimberly was tempted to say no and beg Al to come with her. This is nuts, Kim! she admonished herself as she headed up the stairs. Eric is probably still snoring like a...a...hibernating bear.

But as she reached the top of the stairs, she heard something that definitely wasn't snoring. It was just a quiet, gasping sound and it made Kimberly's blood run cold. The last time...the only previous time she'd ever heard it, Eric had been in the middle of the sort of nightmare that was more appropriately called a terror.

Quickening her pace, she entered the bedroom expecting to see Eric rigid on the bed, but he wasn't. Instead, he'd somehow managed to huddle himself into the far corner of the room, just below the windows. Kimberly started forward, intending to bring Eric out of the nightmare, when she heard him make a soft, keening cry.

And then he started to thrash.

~*~

"What a dump!" Namir muttered as he poked through the wreckage of the Northlands Collective Business Park.

"It wasn't that great a place before Lexia blew it up," John pointed out.

Namir chuckled. "Why do the bad guys always pick really tacky hide outs?"

"Because there's fewer people around to spot them doing odd stuff," JJ contributed. Then he shook his head. "Someone let me down lightly when I wake up?"

"Huh?" Namir looked around, puzzled.

JJ gestured at the ruins. "Until an hour ago, I only knew one way to get from point A to point B without using a vehicle, and that was by walking."

John gave a grin. "It does take a bit of getting used to."

Namir shrugged. Although he hadn't used the teleport function in his own century, that had more to do with the fact that places like the TOI had null-teleportation devices than any hesitation to use it. "It's kinda common where I come from."

"Have you guys found anything yet?" Alice's voice sounded loudly, if tinnily, from the speakers of all three morphers. She, Rick and Lexia were searching through another section of the site.

"Nothing so far," John answered.

"Just lots and lots and lots of rubble and garbage," put in Namir.

"What about the warehouse that, ah..." JJ hunted for the name. "Mirracon -- him. What about the warehouse he used?"

"That's clear," Rick answered. "While certain people were running around, having fun with Leprechauns, some of us were actually here and watching Eric, mom and dad tear that place apart for clues."

Namir saw John wince and guessed the barb Rick had tossed was aimed at the black ranger. "If dad did that, you're probably right there's nothing left to find." John sighed. "But we ought to check it out anyway...unless anyone has any better suggestions?"

There was a pause. Finally, Alice came back with, "Worth a shot, Jonno. You guys are nearer there than we are, so if you finish up and head there, we'll meet you."

"You got it, Ali."

~*~

Kimberly found herself paralysed by the scene unfolding. Part of her knew that she needed to do something to help Eric, but the rest of her was frozen in place, terrified and unsure as to exactly what she could do to help.

A second, keening moan, broke through the paralysis and she darted forwards. Come hell or high water, she was going to break through this awful dream -- seizure? -- and bring Eric back to the here and now. But she very quickly found that, unlike the first -- only other -- time she'd come upon Eric in the midst of a nightmare, she wasn't going to be able to get close enough to shake him awake. His arms were flailing like a prize fighter's, and as much as she wanted to bring him out of this, Kimberly knew he'd never forgive himself if he hurt her. He very nearly hadn't forgiven himself for what happened that last time.

So instead, she was reduced to getting as close as she could, and saying, "Eric, wake up -- hon, it's just a dream..."

"I hurt her..." he muttered rapidly. "I hurt her..."

"You haven't hurt anyone, hon," Kimberly promised. "Come back to me...please..."

"Alice's hurt...I hurt her...killed her..."

Hearing Alice's name was a shock, and if that was a shock, hearing Eric suggest he'd killed her was much worse. There was a split second when Kimberly found herself wondering if what he was saying was true. Then reason reasserted itself -- whatever else had or had not happened, she knew Alice was Alice and not some replicant. Whatever this was, it was something that The Master had done to Eric. "Hon -- you haven't hurt Alice, she's OK."

"I killed her...it's my fault..."

Nothing she was saying seemed to be getting through to him. In mounting desperation, Kimberly took an incautious step forwards, only to be struck -- albeit not hard -- on the shin as Eric kicked out.

Damn... "Honey, whatever it is, you didn't do it. It is not your fault."

"It's my fault..." The words trailed off into another keening moan, leaving Kimberly at a loss. Talking wasn't getting her anywhere, yet she couldn't get close enough to do anything else.

~*~

The light coming on startled Zaskin more than a little. The sudden brightness left him all but blind as the door of his cell opened -- doubtless his captor was relying on that to prevent the scientist from escaping, given that Zaskin wasn't bound in any way.

"It's time for you to start working, Doctor," said a voice from the doorway.

Zaskin felt a frisson of recognition travel the length of his spine. He knew the voice. Looking round, though, all he could make out was a person-shaped blur, which gave nothing away as far as confirming his captor's identity. "Whatever it is you want me to do, I won't do it."

The person-shaped blur laughed. "Oh, you will do it -- the history banks show you did." Hands seized Zaskin, hauling him to his feet. "Now, move."

~*~

Just as Kimberly was beginning to wonder if she wasn't going to have to get in touch with Ven and get the doctor here, a new player in the drama walked onto the stage. A large, disreputable-looking, patchwork-coated tom cat. He wasn't an official member of the Myers household -- point of fact, he was a neighbourhood stray -- and if Kimberly had final say in the matter, he wouldn't be an unofficial member of the household either. Except that she was consistently out voted, three to one.

How the creature had got into the house was a mystery to Kimberly; it was certainly the last thing she wanted anywhere near Eric in his present state. As much as she disliked the cat -- Kata Eric had jokingly called it, to the delight of the then seven year old John -- she had no wish to see it get hurt, and she suspected that if one of Eric's flailing limbs should catch it, it would fight back.

"Oh no you don't..." Kimberly murmured, making to stop Kata from getting any closer.

The cat was quicker. Despite its size, it shot through the minuscule gap available. Then, before Kimberly could do anything to adjust, it calmly sauntered up to Eric's prone form, gave Eric a long, measured look and sedately put its paws onto his thigh.

Kimberly wasn't sure what to expect next, except she had a vague feeling of impending disaster. The cat would stick its claws in, or Eric would catch it with a fist, or... The cat could actually climb up onto Eric's lap, turn around a few times and curl up.

Kimberly blinked. After the assorted weirdness she'd seen and lived through in her life, she had thought she'd more or less lost the capacity to be genuinely surprised by something, but watching the cat begin to purr like a badly tuned car engine -- and more to the point, watching Eric's struggles calm -- was too much for her to actively grasp. It was just too weird.

"Huh?"

The soft exclamation drew Kimberly out of her stupor. She realised that Eric was now, finally, back and with it. "Honey?"

"Kim? What...?" Eric frowned, one hand now resting on the still purring cat. "What's going on?"

Kimberly chewed her lip. "You...don't remember?"

A careful shake of the head answered that. "Where am I? And...why is Kata sitting on me?"

~*~

Vaguely, Ben wondered why it was his head felt as if a marching band had started using it for a practice ground. Part of him wanted to wonder where the heck he was and what on earth had happened, but the headache was making that all but impossible.

"Ben?"

The voice was soft and concerned enough that Ben managed to find the energy to open his eyes a fraction to see who the speaker was. Unfortunately, all he could see was bright, harsh lighting, which set his head pounding even harder.

"Ben, it's Jenny Deslaurier," the voice continued.

It seemed to take forever for the name to actually mean something to him. Finally he placed it -- she was a Silver Guardian; Ian Foster's second in command. What was she doing here?

"They asked me to sit with you -- tell you what happened."

Oh good -- there was a reason why he felt like three-day-old crap. That was comforting.

"There was an explosion at SGHQ yesterday afternoon...you were caught in the rubble."

Dimly, Ben felt a flash of recognition at that. He did have some memory of that happening. A slow frown began to form. Wasn't there someone else who'd been with him?

"The doc'll be in shortly to give you a once over, but they've told me that -- barring some cracked ribs and concussion -- you're OK."

Something about her tone told Ben there were other people worse off than that. The long pause that followed told Ben Jenny was having difficulty coming up with the words to give him the bad news.

And that was when the memory of who else had been in the SGHQ reception area with him fully surfaced. Taylor had been leaving early to go to a doctor's appointment.

Headache or no, Ben forced his eyes open. Jenny's expression confirmed his fears. "What's happened to Taylor?" he whispered.

~*~

Led by a now inordinately proud looking Kata, Kimberly helped Eric down the stairs. She was still hoping that Eric would shake off her help -- or at least grouse about it -- but he didn't. He'd been meekly compliant as she'd helped him get washed and dressed, which she tried to put that down to the episode he'd suffered, but he remembered nothing of it. He didn't even remember getting out of bed.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Al appeared from the living room where, presumably, he'd been waiting.

"I figured it was your cat," he said, inclining his head in the direction of the cocky Kata. "It was sitting on the windowsill, so I let it in."

Kimberly smiled wanly, recalling events of the morning so far. "He is now."

"Who's that?" Eric asked softly.

Al's eyes widened at the question.

Kimberly sighed. It was just another sign of there being something wrong. "It's Al Drake -- Katie's husband."

"Oh." It was non-committal. Just a trace of a frown on Eric's face momentarily -- as if the answer had actually surprised him -- then that faded and his expression returned to something more passive.

"OK -- let's get you sitting down; then I can do some breakfast...you want some coffee?"

"Sure." But Eric's tone was disinterested.

Kimberly sighed. It was going to be a long morning.

~*~

Dizzily, Ian Foster tried to reach the phone. He knew he needed to call for help -- whatever this virus was, it just wasn't going to quit -- but he couldn't, quite seem to coordinate his movements. Everything felt sluggish, as if he was moving through quicksand. Then the dizziness struck again, hard. The room seemed to dip and sway like some bizarre roller coaster. He was falling, he vaguely realised. He tried to catch his balance, but to no avail.

He landed in an uncoordinated heap a bare foot away from where his cell phone was on charge. The proximity mocked him. He felt too weak to even crawl the distance, much less stand again.

The dizziness struck a third time and brought with it nausea. There was nothing left in his stomach to bring back, but still he found himself vomiting. Dimly, he recognised that what was coming up was bloody and the realisation forced its way through his mind: I'm dying.

The sickness passed, but he was too weak to even move away from the mess. Instead he lay there, on the floor and closed his eyes. He wasn't dying, he realised, he was already dead.

TO BE CONTINUED...