Author's Notes: Sorry for the longer-than-of-late hiatus. I went on vacation, and basically took a vacation from all writing. I'm back, now, and I hope to chug through the rest of the rewrite of season 2 this summer.

Reviewer thanks: The-Chibi-Poe (I wouldn't say Thomas has a pale shadow of Tommy's power… just that right now he's incomplete, personality-wise. I'll be dealing with that more next chapter), Ghostwriter, The-Knight2000, GothamPowerKaiju (I honestly can't wait for Rito to show up and throw even more chaos in the Moon Palace household. Lol), and bleedredstars (See, that's the thing. I want to cause as much pain as possible).


Brighter Paths

Book 5: Shades of the Past

Chapter 20: Regrets

Rocky looked in the car that he recognized as Kimberly's. It was nose-first in a ditch; he'd call a tow truck for Kim as soon as he could get to a phone. "Nothing in here. Looks like Billy left his backpack, and from the dent on the fender they were forced off the road." He popped his head back out and looked up at Tommy, who was pointing a scanner at the ground. "Wonder why they didn't contact us?"

"They might have thought they could handle it on their own," Tommy replied. "Or whatever sent them through time also blocked their communicators." He shrugged. "Or Kim just got in over her head. She does that sometimes. Like some people I know."

Rocky grinned at the dig. "Yeah, well... from what I heard you were no different back in the day."

"Yeah, Jas had to keep a pretty tight leash on me," Tommy said breezily. He closed the scanner with a snap. "So, what do you think?"

Rocky had no idea what to say. Knowing Tommy, this was some kind of test. Or maybe he actually valued Rocky's opinion? That seemed doubtful. Rocky shook his head, trying to get out of his own self-doubt and actually answer Tommy's question. "Zedd and Rita wanted Billy and Kimberly out of the way for some reason. I thought at first it was just because we were new Rangers and they wanted to screw with us again, but you're still here. Unless they have something different planned for you…" Rocky shrugged. "If it's time travel, maybe they want to screw with the present? But I really have no idea. I can't figure out…"

"You're doing fine, Red," Tommy said. "You're probably right. They got rid of the most senior Rangers, probably thinking that we'd be lost without them. Ready to prove them wrong?"

Rocky's breath caught, but hopefully Tommy hadn't heard it. Tommy had just called him Red. He'd never done that before. Rocky had felt so much like a replacement, like Tommy still thought of him as Jason underneath the mask when he was morphed. Calling him that... it was the most Tommy had acknowledged him as a true Power Ranger.

They were about to teleport out when there was a flash, and they were surrounded by Putties.

Rocky put up his guard, and Tommy pocketed the scanner and did the same. "Another random Putty attack?" Rocky said.

"Doesn't seem so random," Tommy said grimly. "The others are busy. We can take care of these."

Rocky wondered if Kimberly and Billy thought the same thing, but he didn't voice his concern. Didn't want Tommy to think he couldn't handle himself.

Ten minutes of hard fighting, and the Putties were all destroyed. Rocky leaned against the car and caught his breath. "You know, I'm starting to think we're not well liked."

"That's important to you, huh?" Tommy asked, brushing some dirt from his jeans.

Rocky frowned. "I was just joking, dude."

"And Billy and Kimberly are still missing," Tommy snapped back. "Let's get going."

Rocky opened his mouth to defend himself, but Tommy had already teleported away. Cursing under his breath and shouldering Billy's backpack, Rocky followed suit. One step forward, two steps back.


The fields had finally given way to a dusty yard and a two-story wooden house. Kimberly would have called it Victorian, but she supposed that that style was contemporary to the time they were in.

The cock of a rifle brought Billy, Kimberly, and Henry to a halt. Billy's hand flew to his morpher, but Kimberly kicked him in the back to stop him. Right now, she knew they were dependent on the kindness of strangers, and she didn't know how well her ancestor would react to superhuman powers.

"Settle down!" Henry said, calling to a large man on the porch. The man was quickly surrounded by a few others, all armed. Kimberly was reconsidering her decision not to morph. "It's me, Hank!"

"And who've you got with you there, Hank?" the large man said. He was sitting on a wooden bench, his rifle at the ready. He looked to be in his 50s, gruff and weathered. He didn't quite lower his rifle.

"Stagecoach got robbed, and these two were on it, Mr. Cranston," Hank said. "Billy and his sister Kim, looking for work. Those thieves left 'em with nothing. Took the clothes off their back."

Billy's ancestor frowned, and then actually lowered his rifle. "That right?" he said. "Shame. This used to be a nice town. Until we lost our sheriff, and then all sorts thought they could do whatever they liked."

Billy said, "What's going on? Are you expecting attackers?"

Kimberly was glad Billy had asked. Given the time and the look of the Cranston ancestor, he probably wouldn't appreciate being questioned by a girl. It rankled her to sit by and listen, but they would have to make do. If she ever got back, though, she had a hell of an insight into her English essay.

Mr. Cranston seemed to chew this question over, and the men surrounding him shot nervous glances at each other. There was something that had all of them spooked, and it seemed a bit more serious than bandits. From the looks of it, they were prepared to hold off a small army.

"Strange things always happen in Angel Grove," Mr. Cranston said. "Things have just got stranger and more dangerous. When I say we lost our sheriff, I mean we lost him in the dead of night. He went out to collect a drunk from behind the saloon, and no one ever saw him again."

"At least, not like he was," one of the men supplied. "We seen him in the woods…"

"People are jumpy enough without you spreading rumors like that," Mr. Cranston said. He jerked his head at the woods. "Still, though… There's noises out there. Cattle and horses missing from the pasture, with only a few scraps left."

"People say wolves," Hank said. "Ain't no wolves that act like that. Not even a pack could take a full-grown bull without leaving something."

"What's your name again, son?" Mr. Cranston said. "You say you're looking for work?"

Billy jumped a bit at being called "son" by his ancestor, wondering if he'd noticed their resemblance. Billy sure had, and had hoped no one mentioned anything. "Billy, sir. Both my sister and I am looking for work."

Mr. Cranston nodded. "Can you shoot straight?"

"Yes, sir," Billy said without hesitation.

Mr. Cranston sighed. "Both of you are city folk, from the looks of your skin. I don't guess you've ever worked a day in your life, though you've worked at least some with your hands," Mr. Cranston nodded at Billy. "Still, I don't really have a job for you, miss."

Kimberly's lips thinned. Mr. Cranston obviously had as many brains as his descendent, but he was also a bit short-sighted, and probably didn't want the "womenfolk" around. "Mr. Cranston, you're about to lose you entire garden. From the looks of your tomato plants, you're about to have a lot of hungry people around here."

Mr. Cranston frowned. "We've been a bit busy to take care of the garden."

"And whose fault is that?"

A big lady in an apron breezed through the front door. The way the men made way for her told Kimberly quickly that this was Mrs. Cranston. The woman crossed her arms and seemed to square off with her husband.

"There's been…" Mr. Cranston began.

"You've had these boys walking around like a durn army, and most of them just drink liquor all day and let the farm go to ruin." She motioned to Kimberly. "You wanna work, girl, I'll put you to work. Maybe between the two of us we can keep everyone from starving to death. And we can put some money in your pocket and clothes on your back in the meantime. There's a little room you can stay in off the kitchen, and your brother can kip with the others."

"We'd both sure appreciate it," Kimberly said, feeling herself fall into the dialect.

Hank grinned and held out his hand to help Kimberly down, but Kimberly had already launched herself off the horse and landed. After being patronized to, it was nice to see a woman who wasn't afraid to hold her own.

"Oh, and Mr. Cranston," she said as she walked past him. "I can shoot straight, too."

Hank was a bit stunned at Kimberly's quick dismount and retort, but he recovered and slapped his outreached hand on Billy's shoulder. "Looks like you're both hired. See? Nothing to it."


Adam had been patiently waiting for the curator Julie to finish signing brochures. He had his in hand, and figured that he would end up being the only one out of the group after all to get the bonus points. While he waited, he stared at the display of "strange happenings" in Angel Grove.

Julie hadn't been kidding. Most of what he was reading had the flavor of local legend and passed-down mythology, but there were plenty of actual newspaper clippings and other scraps of evidence talking about disappearances, cattle mutilations, localized manias where everyone in the town gathered in mobs and chased people out of town… No history of lynchings, thank goodness, but Adam supposed more sinister things could have been hidden from the history books.

Ostensibly, Adam knew that all these examples could be chalked up to natural occurence or just the infinite weirdness of human beings. Bored teenagers create crop circles, feral animals or unwell people just wanting attention mutilated animals, and sometimes people just ran off, and that became a disappearance. Water contamination or fear could easily cause mobs. It didn't take extraterrestrial or supernatural interference to cause all this.

Still, he was a Power Ranger who fought space aliens. He knew magic existed. It wasn't like any of this was out of his experience now.

"1843." The curator's voice was suddenly next to him, and Adam realized he'd zoned out. "That's the year Angel Grove was almost destroyed. Strange that it was nearly 150 years before it happened again." She sighed. "Too bad they didn't have the recording equipment back then that we have now."

Alarms went off in Adam's head. 1843. If something disastrous had happened in that year, maybe Billy and Kimberly were right in the thick of it. "So, do you think the two events are related?"

"I couldn't say," Julie said. She smiled. "I'm glad you came back. I noticed you'd left without my signature."

"Yeah," Adam laughed slightly. "I had an emergency come up, but I took care of it. My name's Adam, by the way. Adam Park."

Julie took his brochure. "I've given my autograph so many times today, I feel famous," she laughed. "So, what do you think?" She gestured to the display as she handed the brochure back."

Adam paused, not sure how to answer without revealing too much. "There's not much to go on, is there. You say everything happened in 1843?"

"Not everything," Julie said. "I made the occurence a special study, and it's pretty clear that Angel Grove was no stranger to odd occurences, no matter who was currently living in the area. The indigenous people of the area had their own theories, but most of those were lost and moved when the people were moved for the white settlement. The railroad and better technology, as well as the gold rush, brought more people into the area, so it's a little hard to pin down exactly what was happening. Still, it's undeniable that in 1843 things came to a head."

"What happened?"

"This whole area was mainly owned by Jeremiah Cranston. There was his farm, and then there was the town proper. Cranston turned paranoid when his eldest son, William Cranston, disappeared without a trace. His son was also the sheriff, and no one wanted the job after that. Cranston took it on himself to raise a militia to track down whomever had made away with his son… and that's there everything went wrong."

Adam had had to keep the surprise from his face at this story. Cranston. A son named William. Was this a coincidence, or had Billy gotten far more involved in the past than they'd supposed? And where was Kimberly in all this?

"All that's clear is that Cranston had his militia round up some people and accuse them of witchcraft. Now, this wasn't the 17th century or Salem, so that was considered ridiculous at the time. Still, mob mentality being what it is, a lot of people must have believed him. Records show that one man, Henry Hart, was killed, and the mob dispersed pretty quickly after that. Not unlike the mobs that rose up last May."

"No one was killed then, though," Adam said, his voice dying a bit in his throat.

"Thank goodness," Julie said. "Adam, are you all right? You look a bit faint."

"Yeah," Adam heard himself saying. "I'm fine. Just… are there any documents other than these I can look at? I've got an idea for my essay, but I just want to check on a few things first."

Julie's eyebrows raised. "Go to the special collections at the Angel Grove Public Library, and ask Maria for the 1843 documents. Tell her I sent you. You're probably the most thorough students for your age I've come across."

Adam nodded uncomfortably. "Thank you for the help," he said quickly. He walked out of the museum, just stopping himself from running. If Billy and Kimberly were indeed in 1843, they had to be rescued, and soon. He had to tell the others, but first he had to make sure.


Rocky tried not to feel jealous as Tommy's hands flew over the keyboard in Billy's garage lab. He stared around at the equipment, unsure of what Tommy was doing, and unsure of how to help him. He felt a bit ashamed, but he sort of wished for some kind of attack. Just a few more Putties, just so he could do something he was good at.

"Sylvia won't be home yet," Tommy commented. "She's at some kind of PTA thing."

"I'm glad," Rocky said. "I'd really rather not tell her that her son is lost in time."

"Me, neither," Tommy said. "One way life is easier for us."

"What do you mean?" Rocky said.

Tommy gave an enigmatic smile. "Nah. That's okay. I probably didn't mean it, anyway." He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his chair. "I might have to get Aisha down here. Maybe even Alpha. I know some of what Billy's done here, but they'd be able to process this information better."

"Okay…" Rocky said slowly. "But… I really want to know what you mean, Tommy. Why is life easier on us?"

Tommy looked up in surprise. "What? Oh, I just meant that… I dunno… I sort of get why we work as Rangers. Let's just say we're both more… unattached."

"Unattached?" Rocky had run out of quips, at least until he knew where Tommy was going with this.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "I mean, you haven't seen it? Kim and Aisha have full families, Adam has Aaron and Billy has Sylvia, but us… I don't really have a family to speak of, and you've made it pretty clear that your dad doesn't really care what you do."

"The hell are you saying?" Rocky said. He was starting to get angry, though the little voice in the back of his mind agreed with these words a little too much. "What, you're saying that no one would really care about us if we got thrown back in time?"

"Or something," Tommy said, laughing slightly. He rolled his eyes again. "Oh, come on, that's not exactly what I'm saying. We have friends, they would make every effort. But… I mean… I died, and everyone got along fine saving the world without me. We're the ones that can take the big risks, because we're the ones who aren't going to cause a lot of pain when we go. Sylvia will mourn, but it wouldn't be like if she lost Billy, and my mom wouldn't care much."

"I'm not listening to this," Rocky said.

"This is why I didn't want to say anything, Red. I knew you'd take it the wrong way, and I'm trying to pay you a compliment here. Being Rangers… that's all we've got. And we're good at it. Why do you think I made you Red? I couldn't make you second right away, because Kim's got seniority, but that's not going to last forever. I needed someone who could give it their all, like me."

Rocky shook his head, unsure what to think. The thought he couldn't avoid was… Tommy wasn't wrong. Would his dad really care about him if he disappeared like Aaron would for Adam, or the Campbells would for Aisha? Wasn't that why he took risks and threw himself into every dangerous situation without thinking? If that was the case, he needed to work harder to protect his friends. Like Tommy had pointed out, they had more attachments. That's why they had to get Billy and Kimberly back.

Tommy had stopped paying attention to him. He tapped his comunicator. "Aisha, Alpha, come in."

"We read you, Tommy," came Alpha's voice after a few seconds.

"Alpha, I think both you and Aisha need to get down here and try to run these scans. I can't make heads or tails of it, but I know that Billy has a special program that can run this scan better than the Command Center."

"Will do, Tommy," Alpha said.

"I copy," Aisha broke in. "Be down in a minute. Adam hasn't reported in yet."

"Rocky and I are headed back up," Tommy said. "I've got a theory to test." He grinned at Rocky. "Feel like being a guinea pig?"

Rocky shrugged. "I guess that was your whole point. I mean, what have I got to lose?"


Billy sat against a wall behind the house. He'd retained his jeans, but he was now wearing a flannel shirt that was far too big for him and now drenched in sweat. He also ached in places he never realized existed. He'd spent the day repairing a fence, trying to avoid the other gun-wielding men around him. The pistol on his hip weighted heavily against him, and he swore that no matter what it would not leave its holster until he gave it back.

Kimberly slumped out of the back door, noticed him after a few seconds of squinting through the dark, and collapsed beside him. Unfortunately, she'd been unable to retain anything of her old clothes. She wore a worn floor-length, long-sleeved dress with an apron that looked like it was wound around her three times. "Finally finished cleaning up," she said, wincing at her hands reddened by the boiled dishwater. Boiled over a wood-burning stove. Billy had glimpsed Mrs. Cranston showing Kimberly how to light the fire. "I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life."

"I concur," Billy said quietly. He realized he'd been affecting a more countrified speech pattern ever since they'd met Hank, so he let it drop. "We've got to get out of here."

Kimberly looked down. "I know. I've been thinking about what to do all day. I know the others are looking for us, but would they even know when to look?"

"We can possibly be tracked through the Morphing Grid," Billy said. "Is our only option waiting around for rescue?"

Kimberly sighed heavily, puffing out her cheeks as she did so. "I've thought about teleporting to the Command Center. We know Zordon and Alpha are there, even at this time, but I don't know what damage that will do. I've watched enough science fiction with you to know it might not be good," she added with a wry smile. "Of course, hanging out with our ancestors is probably not the best idea either. Especially with all the weirdness happening around here." She paused. "Do you get the sense that your ancestor is a little… paranoid?"

"Most definitely," Billy said. "Him along with everyone else, but Mr. Cranston is probably the worst. Something about the sheriff's death… and something that's going on in the woods."

"There's just a lot of coincidences going on all at once," Kimberly said. "The first two people we meet are our ancestors? We fall smack dab into some sort of X-Files episode as well? I wonder if we got sent back to this place and time on purpose. Like Zedd and Rita have something planned."

"But why just us two?" Billy said. "Granted, we're the worst out of all of us to be sent back. My ancestor is right. We've never worked a day in our lives."

"Better us than Rocky, Adam, or Aisha. Or Tommy, for that matter, since his mom's half Native American, and people around here would probably notice," Kimberly pointed out. "Were you listening to the racist talk going on at dinner? And these are apparently the better types. Mr. Cranston let his slaves go several years ago, and he has a good working relationship with the nearby Native Americans, but… still a pretty sucky place to be for people who aren't white."

"Point taken," Billy said. "You were going somewhere with your discussion of coincidence."

Kimberly scraped her hair back. "We've got to figure out if this is coincidence or not. If this is something that Rita and Zedd set up, we have a responsibility to save these people. It may be our fault… or at least our involvement… that started all this in the first place, and Zedd and Rita may be attacking our ancestors on purpose. We might be disappearing from a photograph any second."

"And the alternative is that if this is a coincidence, any interference on our part could do irreparable damage to the timeline, which might further endanger our existence."

"So, basically, we don't know if doing something or doing nothing is our best bet," Kimberly said. "And we may be screwed either way." She took a breath. "So I guess we need to investigate without interfering, and hopefully the others will find us soon and give us some clue what to do."

"I can try to make something out of our communicators, so we can tap into the Morphing Grid and figure things out," Billy said. "I'll just need better tools that what I have, which is nothing."

"We'll save the Command Center as a last resort," Kimberly said. "If there's anything I trust to not wreck the timeline, it's Zordon. Still, I'd like to avoid the risk if we can." She groaned as she got up and held a hand out to Billy. "Come on, we need to get some sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a long day as well."

They turned to walk back in the house when they came face to face with Hank Hart, who was leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded. He looked like he'd been there for some time.

"There's no stagecoach in this area until next month," Hank said, his voice neutral and eyes suspicious. "I was waiting until you two got alone so I could figure out what you were up to."

"How much did you hear?" Kimberly said.

Billy was ready to bolt and drag Kimberly behind him. They'd have to morph to outrun Hank or anyone he brought with him, since they would probably use horses and would definitely use guns. The gun on his hip shifted as he moved his legs, but he still would not use it.

Hank took a breath. "You're either crazy… or you're not from around here. And I don't think you're crazy, but I'm not sure. You kept talking about ancestors. Who are you? Really?"

Kimberly and Billy glanced at each other. Billy knew from Kimberly's eyes that they weren't going to run… at least not yet. He decided to wait and see what she would do.

"I can tell you our real names, but you'll probably still suspect we're crazy," Kimberly said. "My… my name is Kimberly Hart." She looked at Billy, who nodded back. "And this is Billy Cranston."

That seemed to take the starch out of Hank, who slipped down to sit on the back stoop. "Well, hell," he said quietly. "I thought I noticed something. Mr. Cranston must have noticed, even if he's not saying anything."

"We didn't want to lie to anyone," Billy said quickly. "We're stuck here. Magic, I suppose you'd call it. We'd call it that, too. Like you heard, the person who sent us back might be causing everything that's happening."

"It's a good thing you hid your names," Hank said. "Billy, you're the spitting image of the sheriff… Bill Cranston. Mr. Cranston's eldest." Hank shook his head. "I know that's why he trusted you two right away. He hasn't been the same since his boy disappeared, and you looking just like him…"

Billy's eyes widened in realization. "The others, though… They kept giving me suspicious looks. And one of them implied that the sheriff was seen in the woods, not looking quite like himself."

"No one's said anything to me," Hank said. "But a lot of weird things happen around here. And there's a lot of local tales about people being changed. Taken over by witches, or that sort of nonsense. My money is that the others… including Johnny, the second eldest… might start thinking you're some kind of witch. Both of you."

"Do you think that?" Kimberly asked.

"I ain't never seen a witch," Hank said. "I've also never seen the likes of you either. But I heard you two talking, and I may not have understood everything, but it sounds like you don't want anyone to get hurt. Between that and the way you two worked today…" Hank sighed. "What can I do to help?"

Kimberly smiled, and Billy relaxed somewhat. "We need to figure out what's going on in the woods, and we need some small tools for Billy. Hopefully, we can leave this a better place than what it was."

Hank nodded. "We'll leave early, and I'll take you two into town. My father-in-law is the town blacksmith. He might can make what you're needing, or at least have something you can use." He grinned. "And you can meet the wife and baby. I… I guess you'd be meeting your grandfather," he looked shyly at Kimberly.

Kimberly heart skipped a beat. It was strange, but she felt somehow safer around Hank, now that he knew who she was. No matter what, this was her family. She had precious little time with her father's side ever since the divorce. "I think we might have to add in a few 'greats,' but yeah… I'd like to meet the family."

With that, Kimberly stole back into the house, and Billy followed Hank to the barn, where several men slept in the hayloft. They didn't talk, as there were ears everywhere now, including a few men standing guard, but Billy was grateful that Hank had continued to be their ally.


Aisha took one look at the computer before she realized something was wrong. "There's nothing here."

Alpha looked over her shoulder, and then gently moved her aside so he could take over the keyboard. Sure enough, there was nothing for them to work on. Just some old projects of Billy's, but nothing about the time disturbance.

"I don't like this," Aisha said, her heart starting to pound. She'd been half distracted all day, worrying about what had happened with Tommy that morning, that she just now realized there was no reason for her or Alpha to be there and not at the Command Center. She tapped her communicator. "Aisha to Zordon."

There was no answer. Only static.

"Oh, ay-yi-yi," Alpha said, tapping frantically at the keyboard. "We've been cut off from the Command Center."

Aisha cursed under her breath. She tapped her communicator again. "Adam, come in. Are you there?"

"Aisha, that won't work," Alpha said. "The communicators use the Morphing Grid, and we're cut off from that as well. It looks like someone has cut off all ties to the Morphing Grid except for the Command Center."

"So I can't morph either?" Aisha said. "But who could…" She felt her heart pound faster. She knew exactly who could. He'd warned them weeks before. How could she have not picked up on the signals?

"Tommy," she said. "He's evil again, isn't he?"

"I don't know how this could have happened, Aisha," Alpha said. His voice's pitch was higher, and Aisha realized that Alpha was scared. He had, after all, lived through Tommy's first foray into evil. "Zordon and I created his powers to make it more difficult to corrupt him."

"But now Rita's back in town," Aisha pointed out. "Alpha, Tommy's up there with Zordon and Rocky, and they don't know he's evil. How bad could this get?"

Alpha hung his head. "The first time, Tommy almost completely destroyed us. But now… he's been a Power Ranger for a long time, and the leader of the Power Rangers for months. He knows everything about the Command Center. Oh, ay-yi-yi, there's no telling what he will do."

There was a soft sound at the door, and Alpha and Aisha whirled around to see Sylvia clutching the doorframe, her face pale and eyes red. "So it's true," she whispered. "I overheard a conversation he was having with Rocky, and it sounded nothing like him, and I was afraid…"

"What was he saying to Rocky?" Aisha said. Her heart was now thrumming in her throat, and she wondered how she was staying outwardly calm when she felt like screaming.

"He used other words, but essentially?" Sylvia said. "He said that no one would care if he died."

"Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi!" Alpha said, throwing his hands up. "Rocky's his target! We've got to save him!"

"We will," Sylvia said, her voice growing strength, giving Aisha resolve to match. "And I'm helping."


The clone of Tommy tapped the security station as they walked by, further disabling security and communications. He'd trapped Aisha, Alpha, and Adam in Angel Grove. Now Zordon was cut off from the rest of the world and the Morphing Grid, though he'd still be able to manifest in his tube. That was necessary. Thomas had things to discuss with him later.

He didn't have a lot of time, though. Aisha and Adam were inexperienced, but they were still resourceful. He had to get this done before any of them breached the Command Center… or figured out what was really going on.

"The 'danger room?'" Rocky asked sardonically, using Tommy's word for the holographic training room. "What kind of experiment are we doing anyway?"

Thomas started programming the computer, too fast for Rocky to see any details. "I want to recreate how Billy and Kimberly were taken. I think with the readings from the Morphing Grid we can get a better sense of what happened there."

It didn't make any sense. Thomas knew it didn't make any sense. He knew that Rocky suspected that it didn't make any sense, but the new Red Ranger was so desperate to impress Tommy, that he would have gone along with anything. Thomas smirked as Rocky turned his back and headed into the training room.

"Morphed or no?" Rocky asked as the door closed behind him. "Well, I guess unmorphed, since Billy and Kimberly weren't morphed."

"Oh, it doesn't matter a hell of a lot," Thomas said, laughing a bit.

Rocky looked up. He was now separated from Thomas by a transparent wall, which usually allowed the Rangers to observe each other training but not be in the room. Rocky's expression slowly started to show worry. "What do you mean, Tommy?"

Thomas grinned down at him, showing all of his teeth. "I mean you're a real grade-A idiot. And now you're my hostage."

Thomas watched with satisfaction as Rocky's face shifted from confusion to astonishment to anger. "You're evil again," he accused.

"Finally catching up," Thomas said. "I've practically been walking around with a sign pinned to my front. Are you so desperate to be accepted that you don't question a single thing I say? And you wonder why I didn't make you second in command?"

"What have you done with Billy and Kimberly?" Rocky challenged, his hand balling up spasmodically into a fist. He looked like he wanted to attack the wall between them, but frequent violent contact with that wall during training had shown all of them that the wall was well-nigh impenetrable.

"You don't need to worry about them. Just worry about yourself. That's what you're best at, anyway," Thomas said, enjoying the interplay of emotions on Rocky's face. In the back of his mind, he wondered how his counterpart could have given this up. The control he could exert over an entire person just with a few well-chosen words… It was intoxicating. Right then Rocky was scrambling to keep up, and he had no idea even half of what was going on.

"Tommy, it's not too late. You can still come back," Rocky said, trying to keep his voice firm even as he was sweating. "Just let me out, and then we can get Billy and Kimberly back. You know… your brother and your girlfriend? You don't want them hurt."

Oh, this was just too cute. He actually thought he could talk Tommy out of this. Even if he were actually Tommy, and not a clone, those desperate words were nothing compared to the higher purpose of serving Rita. Thomas smirked and decided to push Rocky a little further before beginning the program.

"But remember?" he said. "We're the ones who are unattached. Will it really matter to anyone what happens to you? What happens to us?" Thomas laughed. "You try to trick the world, don't you? Surround yourself with friends. Take them on trips. Spend money on them, but not too much because you used to be a rich asshole, but now you're so reformed. You're not fooling anyone, Red."

It looked like Rocky was going to say something, but the words died on his lips. Thomas had struck a nerve.

"You're lonely, aren't you?" he kept going. "All the time. You stink of loneliness, and you try to cover it with stupid jokes and keeping your friends like pets. But you know they really just pity you, because they know how lonely you are, and they know that if they leave, you'll really have nothing." Thomas laughed. "I can sympathize, but I deal with it. On you it's pathetic."

Without another word, Thomas began the program, inspired from Tommy's time dimension-hopping. Through the Morphing Grid, the room would be able to read Rocky's mind and materialize whatever he most feared. He wished he could stick around for the show, but he had precious little time. He still had to talk to Zordon before the others made things more complicated.


Rocky yelled until he realized it was no good. Tommy was gone, and he was trapped in the training room.

The room started to shift before his eyes, swirling around in color and vague shapes as whatever situation Tommy had programmed in began. Heart thudding, Rocky tried to calm down, knowing that he'd have to cope with realistic holograms while trying to figure out how to escape.

"Program end. Red Ranger authorization," Rocky said, taking a shot in the dark.

The room didn't respond, confirming that Tommy had indeed disabled the safety protocols. He assumed that meant the situation would be far more dangerous than they ever used in training as well.

Aisha was at Billy's house, and Adam was still out investigating. Tommy would have made sure they couldn't find him, and Zordon obviously couldn't help him either. He was alone, and he had to deal with this alone.

"You're lonely," Tommy's words came back to him unbidden. "You stink of loneliness."

That's when the images began. Nothing physically attacked him. Instead, on the walls, he saw his life, stripped of the shields he put up daily.

He sat in a living room, one of the many living rooms he'd lived in without truly living in any of them, waiting for his father to get home and hoping he could stay awake for it this time.

He knocked Adam down on the soccer field again and again until the other boy ran from the field, crying.

He stood in a cave next to his friends, chained to a stone, as a snake made its way closer to them, and he knew that it was his fault they were there.

He walked through the hallways of his Stone Canyon school, targeting others with cruelty after cruelty, hoping that hurting others would make him feel even slightly better, but only feeling worse with each cold laugh.

He watched his mother leave. She promised to stay in touch, but each phone call grew farther and farther apart.

He watched the one he loved, and knew he could never tell…

Rocky sat, breathing calmly and letting the pain wash over him. He knew Tommy thought this was going to be real torture, but there was something Tommy didn't know. All these images… his worst nightmares? These were things he thought of every day. He didn't make jokes to make himself feel better. He made jokes so no one would know how truly fucked up he was.


Kimberly held the baby and wondered which of her ancestors this was. Great-grandfather? Or should she add one or two more greats to that? She tried not to think too much about it. Thinking about this baby as someone who would eventually result in her… it made her feel just a bit of nausea. And that wasn't just because of the spit-up now gracing her shoulder.

Sally, Hank's wife and Kimberly's great-grand-whatever, handed her a cloth. "Are you sure I haven't seen you anywhere before?"

Kimberly smiled. She'd asked Hank not to tell anyone else about who they really were. Hank had readily agreed, since no one would actually believe him. Still, it was exhausting to keep coming up with cover stories. "Just one of those faces, I guess."

"Now, when your brother walked in, I thought I was looking at a ghost," Sally said. "It was like I was seeing Bill Cranston all over again. Even the same name, though no one ever called the sheriff 'Billy' and got away with it."

Kimberly handed the baby back to Sally. Her arms still weren't fully recovered from the day before, and the baby seemed to get heavier by the second. "What was Bill like?"

"Fair," Sally said. "Smart. His daddy's a smart one, but I think Bill was the smartest man around these parts. He prided himself in never having to use his gun. He'd out-talk or out-think anyone, and he'd make it clear to any troublemakers that they weren't welcome." She sniffed a little, and her eyes were suspiciously misty for a few seconds. "We searched for weeks after he disappeared. Deputy Skullovich has taken over the job, but he won't even call himself sheriff. He doesn't want the job, but no one else will take it."

Kimberly kept herself from reacting to another familiar name, and hid the smirk when she pictured Skull in a 10-gallon hat and long mustache. "Mr. Cranston is really spooked. Does he think that the person who did away with Bill is going to come after him?"

"So you think he was murdered?" Sally said.

Kimberly shrugged. "I think that's what Hank thinks. And I think I trust Hank's judgment over the more… paranoid ones around here."

Sally shifted the baby on her hip, looking suspicious. She seemed to decide not to question anything too much. "I'll let Hank tell you." She nodded her head to the door, where they could hear footsteps.

Hank and Billy walked in a minute later, Billy with a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. "I think this will do," Billy said. "Do we need to head back already?"

Hank laughed a bit. "It's not fun on the Cranston property right now, I know. Everyone's so jumpy. Still, gotta head back soon." He crossed the room, kissed Sally, and scooped the baby up in one arm.

"We're going to have to start investigating what's going on when we get back," Billy said. "But we'd like to hear anything you can tell us while we're away from any prying ears."

Hank glanced over at his wife, who had pulled out some sewing. "I don't really know what's going on, Henry, but I don't have to," she said. "I trust you."

Hank cleared his throat and started letting the baby grab his fingers so he would stop grabbing at his mustache. "Like I told you last night… people believe strange things around here. Caves with paintings that come to life… monsters lying in the sea… Most of it's boogeyman stuff. Tell your kids there's monsters in the caves, and maybe they won't go in the caves and get their fool necks broken. But… sometimes things go strange, and there's no explanation."

"Like the sheriff," Kimberly said. "One of the others said they saw him in the woods."

"I saw him in the woods," Hank admitted. "But… it wasn't him anymore. I was out patrolling and saw him take down a cow. Just… landed on the cow and brought it down like that. No sound except a thump. Then he looked up at me with eyes that weren't human anymore, and…"

Hank was shaking, and he seemed to realize he was. He took several breaths and handed the baby back to Sally. She looked like she'd heard the story before.

"But you were able to get away," Billy said, his voice barely over a whisper.

"Yes," Hank said. "I shot at it, but it leapt away before I could hit anything, and then I ran. I made the mistake of telling Mr. Cranston what I'd seen, and he's been even more paranoid ever since."

Kimberly was about to say something, when she jumped. She still had her communicator on her wrist, and it had buzzed soundlessly. The look on Billy's face told her he had felt the same thing.

"Hank, we need to take care of something before heading back," Kimberly said. "We'll let you have a little time with your family."

Hank smiled weakly. He looked like he wanted more than anything to just stay in that room and never go back to the Cranston farm. "I sure appreciate it. You two be careful."

"We will," Billy promised, and they ducked out of the house, and then behind the shed where they could be alone.

Kimberly tapped her communicator. "Who's there?" she said quietly.

"Power Rangers." It was the voice of Zordon, and Billy and Kimberly grinned at each other. They'd never wanted to hear his voice as much as right then. "Please prepare to teleport to the Command Center."

"Sure thing," Kimberly said, and she closed her eyes gratefully as she felt the familiar tingle of teleportation.

She opened her eyes to the sight of a Command Center that was incredibly familiar and somewhat… different… at the same time. Zordon was there, floating in his tube, and Alpha was standing by fretfully, but there was a sense of sterility about the place, as if no one really lived there. And the computers looked different as well. This, she realized, was the Command Center of the past.

"Power Rangers," Zordon said, his voice formal and without any sense of recognition. "I have been monitoring your progress as well as the fracture in space-time that sent the two of you here. I did not wish to interfere unless it was necessary, but the story your ancestor just told was disturbing enough that it became clear you needed my help."

"You'd be right, Zordon," Kimberly said. "I'm sure you'll understand that we can't tell you much about ourselves."

"You are Power Rangers and come from 151 years in the future," Zordon said. "That is all I need know. I have purposefully limited my connection to the Morphing Grid. It is not wise to know too much about one's future."

"I'm starting to think it's unwise to know too much about one's past as well," Billy said. "We suspect R… our enemies of being behind the attack against the sheriff, as a way to attack us. Do you think that's the case?"

"I highly doubt it," Zordon said. "I have monitored the sheriff since last night, and from our readings and what Henry Hart has said, it seems most likely that the sheriff came in contact with some concentrated Putty clay."

Both Kimberly's and Billy's eyes sprung open. If they'd been expecting any answer, it wasn't that one. "But…" Kimberly said, "Putty clay is mined on the moon."

"There are places on Earth, in certain caves, where Putty clay still exists," Zordon said. "I thought I had neutralized all these places, but I seem to have missed one. Bill Cranston came into contact with the clay in some way, and it has corrupted him. He has turned feral… as violent as a Putty, and stronger, but far more skittish. I doubt he would hurt anyone, though he seems to have taken to preying on animals to survive. Thankfully, there is a cure."

Billy and Kimberly looked at each other, reaching a silent agreement. It did not matter if the sheriff's dilemma was not their fault, and it also didn't matter what changes to the timeline may happen. There was someone who needed their help, and they were going to help them no matter what.

"We'll administer the cure," Billy said, "if you can point us in the right direction."

"And then we'll talk about getting to our correct timeline," Kimberly said. "Hopefully we didn't change things too much."

Alpha gave them a bottle with a green liquid. "Simply throw this on the sheriff, and it should combat the effects, Rangers," Alpha said. Alpha had little of the personality they'd grown used to, and Kimberly wondered when he'd become like the Alpha they knew.

Zordon as well had looked rather reserved, but for a moment he seemed impressed. "It appears I have chosen my Power Rangers well in the future. May the power protect you."

Billy and Kimberly grinned at the familiar words, and then teleported out.

They landed behind the shed and ran back to the house where they'd just left Hank, Sally, and their baby. The door was open and hanging on its hinge.

They looked at each other with wide eyes and edged into the room. There had been a struggle. A chair lay broken on the floor, and a window was broken. There was no sign of the little family.

"Here," Kimberly said, her voice high and trembly. She picked up a note, where the words "Come back to the farm witches" were scrawled on a thin sheet of paper from the writing desk in the corner. The ink was blotted so they could barely make out the words.

"I suppose we're the 'witches,' then," Billy said.

"They're going to hurt Hank and his family," Kimberly said. She looked up, suddenly determined. "I think the time for laying low is over."


Adam already knew something was wrong. His research had given him enough information that he knew time travel wasn't the only thing wrong. He could pick up on clues others had missed. Not only did he know exactly what was happening with Billy and Kimberly in the past, he also had an inkling of something terrible in the present. He had to get to Zordon to confirm his theory.

He didn't figure out how wrong things were until he tried to teleport and nothing happened.

He stared down at his communicator and poked at it again, all to no avail. His heart pounded: he'd made a mistake. He'd waited too long to report in, and now the worst was happening, and there was little he could do about it.

He pulled out his morpher. He could run to Billy's house and maybe use the flying car they'd told him about…

Before he could do anything, and black-robed figure appeared before him. His face was bone-white, with fire burning underneath.

"You are about to become a nuisance," the figure said, and Adam recognized the voice of the Wizard of Deception. He had nightmares about that voice coming out of his brother's mouth. "You know too much."

Adam tried to morph, but nothing happened. A bead of sweat trickled down his cheek, but he tried not to act like it phased him. "So I'm right," he said. "The time travel… the clone… You even set up Billy and Kimberly to get killed in the past. It's all coming together while we weren't looking."

"You seem more competent when your brother isn't in danger," the Wizard said. "As I said, you know too much." He summoned a group of Putties. "These should keep you busy. At least until you can't do any damage."

The Wizard disappeared, and Adam grinned. The Wizard had just made two missteps. First, he had assumed a group of Putties would be a challenge to Adam. Haunted by his recent defeats involving the Mirror of Regret, Adam had trained hard on his own, and now fighting Putties by himself was practically second nature.

Second… he did know too much. He knew what the Wizard didn't know. That his plans were going to fail.


Thomas tapped one last command entry into the computer as he swept past the Viewing Globe. On the screen, he saw Adam battling a group of Putties, and he nodded in approval. He hadn't given much thought to Adam. He wasn't that big of a threat, and it was decent of Rita to keep him occupied.

"You're slipping, old man," Thomas said softly, smirking up at Zordon. "I shouldn't have been able to get away with what I did. I wasn't even that subtle, if you'd been paying attention."

Zordon looked at him wearily. He'd probably been waiting for this confrontation for several minutes, when he'd noticed he was cut off from everyone and everything. "I admit that you are correct," Zordon said. "I should have noticed. Are the Rangers unharmed?"

Thomas crossed his arms. "Mostly. I don't know where Billy and Kimberly are, and I'm a little pissed I can't play with them. Though, they probably wouldn't have let me get away with half of what I did. Aisha and Adam are panicking right now, and Rocky…" he grinned. "He's my hostage. I can just promise you he's not physically hurt."

"A hostage," Zordon said slowly. "What is it that you want, then, clone? Do you prefer to be called Tommy, or would you like another name?"

He laughed. "Thomas, actually. You know, I actually thought you hadn't figured it out. Good on you. You're not completely senile."

"The Wizard of Deception still had a Tommy clone after I destroyed the others," Zordon said. "And he took genetic material from Tommy yesterday to make you whole. I must admit, I have been distracted, or I would have pieced this together sooner."

Thomas gripped the console. "But I'm not whole. I'm not… real. A shadow given a mockery of life with a few strands of hair and the remnants of the green candle. I'm here to serve my Empress… but I can't really do that. Not while I'm dependent on the Wizard of Deception to keep me alive." He gritted his teeth. "I'm a clone. And just like Billy's clone Will before me, I'm unstable and will be destroyed if anyone who matters finds out I'm alive. Empress Rita may want me around now, but that will change, especially if someone like Dark Specter is involved. Or is that husband of hers gets a chance to do away with me." He took a breath. "But you can make me real."

"You could have asked me for help," Zordon said. "You needn't have threatened any of us."

Thomas laughed. "You don't get it, old man. I'm still evil. Hell, I'm enjoying this." His eyes glinted dangerously. "I have all of Tommy's memories. I remember betraying my Empress. Becoming your Power Ranger. Being justly punished by my Empress, and then defying her again and again. It's driving me mad, and the only way I can feel better is by causing as much pain as I can." He grinned wolfishly. "I'm not done with any of them. Rocky's trapped and living his worst nightmares as we speak, but I won't leave him like that. Adam and Aisha, too… I've already played with Aisha some, but there are so many more ways they can suffer."

Zordon shook his head. "You may be a clone, but you're still Tommy. Desperate to convince yourself that you don't care. Release Rocky," Zordon said, his voice resigned, "and I will help you. We can use my power and the power of the Morphing Grid to stabilize your condition, so that you don't have to rely on the Wizard."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "You really do think I'm an idiot. How about this… I leave Rocky where he is, and I go down to Billy's house and torture everyone I have trapped there… including Tommy, by the way. After I'm done with that, I'll come back and see if you're more serious about helping me."

Zordon's eyes flew open, and he seemed to have broken out of his ambivalence. "Wait… Tommy…"

Thomas laughed. "You're right. I'm not Tommy. But I am the Green Ranger… and this is what I do."