17

A funeral for a teenager was tragic.

Not to say any more tragic than that of a child or an infant, who hadn't been able to get even a taste of what life was like. Or as tragic as those that were older, well into their lives who were leaving their family and friends behind. A teenager's funeral was the midway point; they'd experienced life and what it had to offer, had a bright future ahead of them…and would leave their family and friends behind in a horrific wake.

It was even worse when the death was an accident, the result of a mistake. Or poor choices. But there was always anger attached to it. Anger from the family that had lost their mother, sister, father, brother. Anger from the friends who had just seen their friend "a half hour ago" and suddenly their lives changed forever. An empty space left in group photos, at the lunch table, at the top of the pyramid.

But what happened to those that were responsible for it, even though it was an accident? What happened to the ones who were innocent bystanders and victims in the whole thing? Who were the ones damaged by the same accident that killed someone else?

Those thoughts and questions swirled around Angel Grove as the funeral of Angela Watson, taken down too soon by a drunk driving accident. A lot of the high school was in attendance; present students, former students, teachers, staff, people on the board. All went to pay their respects to the fallen teen.

And Zack was left in his cell, unable to go. Unable to say goodbye. He didn't know if he wanted to, anyway. It was bad enough that he wasn't sure if his parents would do what they needed to release him from the nightmare—his mother had cried and cried when she heard what'd happened. His father had yelled at him before breaking down himself. He didn't know what was going to happen, but was more than heartbroken to know he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Angela, and to say he was sorry.

The other prisoners that watched the news, heard the news reporters that would talk about the night, about the criminal proceedings moving forward. He got strange looks, had been beaten, had been spat upon, his food stolen. All because he showed weakness, because he cried when he first got there. It made him an easy target.

But he worked through it. Day after day, put one foot in front of the other. Worked hard to fight against the ball and chain of guilt that attached to his ankle, impeding his movement as the days went on. He struggled. Struggled not being able to turn to even Zordon and Alpha. He knew they were watching him, were worried about him. But couldn't contact him. Couldn't teleport him out. They were aliens but knew enough of Earth customs to know they couldn't help him.

As it was, his morpher and communicator were gone. His morpher, left in the car, was taken into police evidence, his communicator taken in with the clothes and shoes he wore on the outside before being put into the jail clothes. Prison, jail, he didn't know the difference anymore, but knew it was where he'd call home for a long time. Even if he was worked to be let out of custody due to good behavior, or a technicality, it wasn't something he wanted.

He wouldn't be able to live with that guilt on top of everything else.

He had the time for it. For the guilt. The wondering. The worries.

He made peace with himself in some ways.

But in others it would be something he would never be able to forget. There was too much time on his hands to think about the repercussions of their actions. All of them. Tommy was supposed to be their leader, was supposed to be the one to teach them to choose from right and wrong. But Tommy had a lot of pressure on him for being the leader, being the best, working to keep the city as safe as he could possibly make it. Being adopted, having to be the perfect son must have payed a heavy toll on him, it didn't take much for him to drink. But now he was wracked with guilt, for being a sort of distraction for Zack, which ultimately caused the accident.

He wasn't allowed to see Kimberly while she recovered. Not that Kimberly was so vain that she wouldn't' let her boyfriend see her, but that her mother refused to let them interact with each other. Ms. Hart, who was always worried about the amount of passion the two held for each other, had forbade the two from speaking and blamed Tommy for her pretty little girl getting hurt. Kimberly was a fighter, and always would fight, but her head would, the laceration across her face, the guilt in what happened would plague her for the rest of her life.

Trini hadn't left the hospital yet; or else, she wouldn't be walking out of the hospital. The surgeons had done everything they could, and it appeared that, despite the protective bubble that being a ranger gave them, it didn't' stop some of the harsher consequences. She was paralyzed. Lost a lot of blood on the operating table. Almost didn't make it. And was going to need more physical therapy than any of them could ever imagine to even come close to being normal.

Jason's leg was spared, but he was never going to be the same. Would never be able to play football again. Would never be able to practice martial arts again. The injury to his knee was too great. He was, arguably, hurt the least of the rangers but was one of the ones who would lose the most. He lost everything in his life, everything he lived for. Being able to do martial arts wasn't about being strong to him, wasn't about learning how to defend himself, but was about teaching others so that their self-esteem would increase, so their self-confidence would rise. It was all about helping other people, and he'd never be able to do that again. Not that he minded, he spent most of his time in he hospital with Trini, working to make her stronger. Together.

Zack didn't quite know what was going on with Billy as Billy refused to talk to or see him. Didn't write a letter, didn't make a phone call, didn't visit. As far as he was concerned, Zack may as well be dead. Not exist. All he knew was that Billy secluded himself from almost everything, buried himself in his studies. Avalon did nothing but care for her sister; Bailey was another one of the innocent victims of the tragic night. She'd been with Billy in the other car, going to get some supplies when Zack had swerved off the road and hit them. She'd hit her head against the dashboard, had received whiplash, had been stopped by her seatbelt so hard that her liver was lacerated. But she survived, and Avalon made sure that nothing else would happen to her sister. She refused to leave her sister's side unless needed.

But Bailey was sweet, sweeter than anyone deserved. She forgave Zack for what happened.

Was the only one who did.

Because Zack couldn't forgive himself.

It'd be a long time before he could do that. He let his desperation to have something his friends did to have him make a bad decision, one bad decision. And it cost them all dearly.

One day, he hoped, others would see him as the boy he used to be; silly, a jokester, fun, loving. And wanting love and acceptance in return. With some of his best friends by his side. And his entire life in front of him.

And hoped they'd all believe it was just a mistake.

He'd get them to see it, once he was able to truly forgive himself.

Because he was on a mission, and nothing would get in his way when he was on a mission.

THE END

A/N: Well, that was a bit of a depressing end, but it was a bit of a depressing plot to a story. My point when doing the Powerless stories is to show just how human they can be with things that may be tragic, and I think I've accomplished that.

I do plan on updating all my stories very, very soon as well as having some new stories out! Ss be on the lookout, and thank you so much for the feedback as the story went on!

~Av