Author's note: Hey, Chylea. I know, I'm late, sorry: RL sucks at the moment. Here's hoping this answers a few of your questions.

Saphire Stone(Hope I got that right): Thanks for the review. I'm glad you're enjoying.

In which someanswersare provided, and some more questions are posed.

Jack frowned, looking at Sky. "What do you mean?"

Sky backed up a few steps, out of Joanne's earshot. Z stayed where she was, watching Joanne and Bridge and listening with half an ear to Sky's explanation.

"Look at her. She's expecting to be shot in the back. She's so deep in shock she has no clue what's going on, only that we're here to take Bridge away from her. If she can remember her own name right now I'd be surprised."

Z looked back at Joanne; she was muttering nonstop now, and Z flinched as she began making out words. "No more. You won't hurt him again. Kill me first. No more hurting. Won't let you." On and on she went, repeating the same things and ignoring Bridge as he attempted to speak to her. There was a little more life in his eyes now, but she wasn't sure he recognized them yet.

Jack considered that for a moment before nodding. "Ok. I can work with that." Moving closer to Joanne again, he dropped into a hunker safely out of her reach. "Joanne, can you hear me?"

She shuddered, swaying alarmingly to the left before recovering. "Yes."

"Who am I?"

"Jack."

"And the others?" He gestured vaguely towards Z, even though Joanne couldn't see him.

"The team…"

Bridge was trying to sit up now, awareness and recognition flooding back into his face, but she hushed him with a look.

"You know Bridge is safe with us?" Jack continued placidly.

"Yes."

"Good. So will you move out of the way?"

"I can't." she whispered. Even as she spoke she was still protecting Bridge, shifting each time any of them moved to keep them away from him. If they had been evil, the only way they'd have gotten to Bridge would literally be over her dead body.

Z had been staring at the blood on Joanne's arm, and all of a sudden she realized what was bothering her. The blood was fresh; so much of Joanne's weight was hanging from that hand the shelving was cutting deeply into her fingers and palm.

"Joanne, all the fighting's over." Jack continued doggedly.

"I know." she agreed, shifting her weight again. Bridge was trying more insistently now to get her to let go, but she wasn't budging.

Z caught Sky's eye and they stepped forward in unison; Sky scooped Joanne into his arms while Z pried her fingers loose. Joanne wailed, trying to hit them, but Sky had caught her good arm between their bodies.

Sky locked eyes with Bridge while Z tried to bandage her hand. Very clearly, he said, "She couldn't let go." Bridge nodded, letting his head sink back to rest against the wall.

Sky stepped back, moving towards the door. Syd immediately scooted forward, talking softly to Bridge as soon as she was within reach, warning him what she was going to do as she quickly examined him. Jack joined her, and Z hovered over them.

Sky glanced down at Joanne, who'd stopped fighting him. "Can I put you down?"

She shuddered, almost overbalancing him. "Yes."

"Sure?"

"Yes. Please."

She slid into a sitting position as soon as she touched the floor. Sky stood beside her, watching the others try to maneuver Bridge out of the corner without injuring anyone in the process.

Jack glanced back at him. "Sky, can you help me move this shelf?"

"Yeah." He glanced down at Joanne. "You Ok?"

She didn't seem to register the question—or she was ignoring him, one or the other. Either way, she wouldn't miss him for a minute.

Their rescue efforts were hampered by Bridge's determination to help. Given that he was at best semi-conscious and only vaguely coherent, he was more of a hindrance than anything, but they couldn't persuade him to sit still.

He was more coherent by the time they'd got him out of the corner; enough to tell them his name, their names, and roughly what was happening, though he was defeated when Syd held up three fingers and asked him to count. He did, however, immediately ask about Kat and Morgana. Jack assured him that one had escaped and the other was safe in the infirmary. "Which is where we're going now." he added.

"What happened everyone else?" Bridge asked as they levered him to his feet. The question didn't hide the hiss of pain as he moved.

"Looks like you guys took the worst of it." Jack told him, glancing at Joanne. "Joanne, you ready to come to the infirmary?"

Z frowned, taking a step forward. "Joanne?"

Curled into a tight ball against the wall near the door, she didn't seem to even realize they were there. Z laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and she jerked away, slamming against the wall again.

"Don't." Bridge said suddenly, pulling free of Jack's hand. The move threw him off balance and he half-fell, half-slid to the floor. "Jo—Singer, listen to me for a minute. This is SPD headquarters on Earth. Sky, what's the date?"

Sky frowned but gave him the date, which he repeated verbatim to her. "We're hiding because Morgana wanted us. But the fighting's over now, Singer. We're safe now. My friends came to help us."

Joanne had been relaxing as he spoke, uncurling enough to see him. Now she whispered, so softly they barely heard it, "Lie."

Without hesitation, Bridge told her, "I wish you'd never come back into my life."

"Bridge!" Z protested. "Why'd you…"

"No." Joanne was struggling to her feet when they looked back at her. "No. It's good, Z. Thank you, Bridge."

Catching the look on Jack's face, Bridge explained, "Things that are true."

"And a lie I knew was coming." Joanne added.

"Right." Jack said slowly. "Whatever. We can sort that out later; let's get you out of here."

Bridge had broken a couple of ribs, they discovered later. His concussion had been aggravated by another blow, and he'd picked up a lot of bruises and cuts, including a line of bruises along his jaw.

Syd, it turned out, had sprained her wrist without even realizing. The other Rangers had various cuts and bumps, and Kat was nursing a split lip and a lovely black eye. Of the cadets she'd been worried about, only one was still in any danger, and he was said to be stable.

Joanne's right arm was broken, and the cuts on her left hand had needed stitches. The doctor diagnosed her with nervous exhaustion, and two days after the attack she was still sedated. The base was almost back to normal by then; the Rangers had been pulling long hours to help, lifting and carrying and supervising the cadets.

Bridge was confined to the infirmary for most of that time. The concussion had cleared, but lifting and tidying was out of the question for him. The Rangers made sure he wasn't alone too often or for too long, and Boom dropped in and out with plans for an upgrade of the base defenses.

On the afternoon of the third day Syd found his bed empty. On the verge of starting a base-wide search, she paused on a hunch and checked Joanne's bed.

Bridge was standing at the end of the bed.

Syd checked the curtains were fully closed before joining him. When he didn't acknowledge her, she ventured, "Should you be out of bed?"

"What happened?" he asked.

"What do you remember?" They weren't supposed to talk to him about this until they were sure his memory hadn't been affected.

"Nothing. I know there was an attack—but if I don't remember, did it really happen? And if your memories say yes and mine say no, how can…ow!"

"It happened." Syd said dryly. "Hurt yourself?"

"I think I turned too fast." He pressed his hand against his ribs. "What happened Singer?"

"Morgana thought she knew how to run the base." Syd said carefully.

Bridge nodded. "I sort of remember that; she had Kat as well, right?"

"Right. None of you told her anything, until she started hurting you. Joanne promised to help her then, but she blew the power instead and got you out in the confusion. She saved your life, Bridge."

Bridge took a step forward; Syd echoed him across the bed. "Is she Ok?"

"Yeah." Syd smiled. "She broke her arm and picked up a bunch of bruises. The doctor has her sedated; um, nervous exhaustion? But she's going to…Bridge!"

Bridge looked up in surprise, one hand hovering over Joanne's shoulder. "What?"

"Where are your gloves?"

"Oh." Bridge looked at his hand as though he'd never seen it before, lowering it to his side with exaggerated caution. "I left them…"

He trailed off suddenly, one hand going up to his head.

"Bridge?" Syd said worriedly. "What is it?"

"She touched me." he murmured.

"Joanne?"

Bridge shook his head, swaying alarmingly. "Morgana. She…none of us said anything so she was getting really angry and she was going to hit me, and then she didn't…" His words were spilling out too fast for Syd to follow now. "She touched me. She caught my chin, and I reached up to grab her hand. And it—there's all black inside, there's no light in her at all, and I couldn't see, I couldn't find my way out. And then Singer…I wouldn't let her tell, I kept telling her not to, but then I couldn't concentrate and I didn't know what she was doing and then she promised to help…" He glared down at Joanne, still sedated into unconsciousness.

"She was trying to help." Syd hazarded, not at all sure what had actually happened. Boom had told them bits and pieces, but he'd missed things and some he wouldn't repeat to anyone.

"That's not the point." Bridge muttered. One hand went to touch her and then fisted in anger.

"Bridge, come back to bed." Syd urged gently. "Get some rest. You can talk to her about it when she wakes up."

Bridge was about to answer when the curtain was abruptly pulled back; he flinched, turning away from the sudden brightness.

"Bridge." Kat said, resignedly. "I thought you might be here."

"I've been trying to get him back to bed." Syd said hurriedly.

"So have we all. He's not really hearing us, I think." "Looking at Bridge, she added, "Singer won't be waking up today."

"Don't call her that." Bridge said without looking up.

"Bridge…"

"Can I go back to my room?"

Kat rolled her eyes. "Not today, Bridge. We're still not sure if…"

"Please." he cut her off. Quieter, he added, "Not when she's awake, Kat."

"That's what she said." Kat studied him for a minute. "She won't wake up today. Tomorrow I'll check on you first thing, and if I can I'll release you then."

"Kat…"

"Tomorrow." she repeated firmly. Looking at Syd, she added, "Make sure he goes back to bed."

"I will." she promised. As soon as Kat was gone she added warily, "Bridge? You Ok?"

"I can't be here when she wakes up." He spoke almost absently.

"Why not?"

He looked up, meeting her eyes. As though it were perfectly obvious, he told her, "Because I'm angry with her."

"Why?" Syd insisted, moving around the bed to catch his arm.

"I have to go back to bed." he muttered, turning away.

"Bridge." Syd protested.

"I'm tired. We'll talk later."

"Can we?"

He glanced back at her, catching her meaning and smiling. "Yes. We can talk about it later." For a moment it was as though nothing had happened, as though he were just Bridge again, and she smiled back at him.

"All right. Let's get you back to bed now, huh?"

Bridge hesitated, though, looking down at Joanne again. "Do me a favor, Syd?"

"Of course."

"Singer gets cold really easily. She always did. Can you…" He trailed off again, pressing both hands against his head.

"I'll make sure she's Ok. You want a doctor? Did they leave you painkillers?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine." He didn't open his eyes as he spoke, though.

"You're not. Bridge…"

"On the nightstand." he said finally, giving in. Syd scooped up the pills and the glass of water, offering him both.

"Why do you do that?" Syd asked softly when he put the glass down.

"Syd…"

"Why pretend you're not hurting?"

"I'm tired, Syd." He sat down on the bed as he spoke.

"All right." she agreed reluctantly. "But we're talking later."

"Looking forward to it already."

When she glanced back from the door he'd curled himself into a ball and buried himself under the blankets.