A\N: And now they meet! Enjoy!
Rita gently pressed her palm to her son's cheek.
Tommy jolted up as if shocked. Rita stepped back, waiting as he gasped, his head turning. Then he saw her.
For a moment, they just looked at each other.
Tommy saw her bloodstained white dress, the bandages peeking out from under the cloth, the tousled long hair she hadn't remembered to comb. Rita saw his wild, haunted eyes, the bags under them, the telltale marks of red fingernails on his arms.
Then, gently, Rita reached out.
Tommy clung to her like a drowning man, sobbing as he had the first day they met. Rita sat beside him, crooning nonsense to her son, the keening tone of her voice occasionally escaping her control.
They were home.
Tommy shut his eyes as his tears dried, burying his head in Rita's shoulder. She pressed her face to his head, letting her own eyes drift shut.
"My son." She whispered softly. "My baby boy. Shh. Shh. Mama's here. Your mother's here..."
She almost began to cry again.
Mother.
There was no disgrace in the word. It was honorable to care for others. But Rita had never been a mother before.
And now she was. Just like that.
"Mother." Tommy whispered in agreement. "Rita."
"Yes." Rita said.
Tommy suddenly regained himself, pulling away. Rita smiled through her tears. Boys and their pride...
"Who hurt you?" Tommy growled, his eyes flashing green.
Rita shook her head. "No, no, Tommy...I did this."
Tommy's eyes changed, fearful and concerned.
"I kept myself locked in my room." Rita explained. "I was going insane, I would have killed myself otherwise. Although it seems I should have been more careful about what I did." She ended ruefully, glancing at her bandaged arms.
Tommy reached out, carefully taking an arm. He badly pronounced the word of healing, and the Universe responded, bending itself to the child's will.
It did almost nothing.
Rita couldn't have been more proud.
"You remembered." She whispered. "I thought Zordon would have tried to make you forget."
"He can't get in my mind." Tommy said simply. Coldly. Too coldly--Rita suddenly felt a dark weight in her stomach. She reached out, lifting her son's chin so she could look in his eyes, and thus in his mind.
It was clear. Clean. Tommy was whole.
"He thought you brainwashed me." Tommy explained.
Rita smiled dryly. "I think the correct term is counterbrainwashing. Where in the galaxy did you get your ideas from?"
Tommy glanced at the floor. "M'parents." He muttered.
Rita's smile vanished.
Tommy looked up at her, smiling weakly. "S'okay now." He said. "I got you."
Rita nodded slightly, putting her arm around her child's shoulders.
For a moment, possibilities whirled through her head. She was a master strategist, thanks to her height. No short person could rely on brute force; no, the mind had to be developed. And her mind was the best.
"The guys are gonna hate me." Tommy muttered slightly.
Rita looked down at him, then realized that he had begun thinking as well.
Good.
"There are three choices." She said quietly. "One, stay here. Forget you met me. I'll do the same for you, if you like."
Tommy frowned.
"Two, join me again. Become 'evil'. Stay with me until you're really ready to leave."
Again, there was no reply.
"And three..." Rita carefully translated her idea from her native language into English. "I have one son. But I would be honored to have two."
Tommy's head shot up.
He stared, just stared, at the woman who offered him so much. A home, a family...
Away from Kim.
Away from Earth.
Away from the people who needed him.
Tommy turned his face away in pain.
"Tommy?" Rita asked softly.
"I can't."
Rita frowned. "The monsters aren't a threat, little one." She reminded him. "You know that."
Tommy nodded. "But Zordon is."
Rita stayed silent.
"If Zordon was willing to take teenagers to be Rangers, then he'll be willing to do more." Tommy said quietly. "I...I want to come with you, Rita. I want to go home."
Rita bit back her tears.
Suddenly Tommy's head lifted, his eyes searing through her. "But I'm not letting my friends get hurt again."
Rita felt a slow, powerful pride take her.
Her son was noble. Strong. Courageous.
A warrior.
"You hate me." Tommy whispered, his head falling.
Rita laughed. Actually laughed, taking Tommy in her arms again.
"No." She whispered. "Tommy, I'm proud of you."
Tommy looked hesitantly up at her.
"You're doing the right thing." Rita said. "It will hurt. But the sacrifice..." She shut her eyes and forced herself to say it. "You're doing the right thing."
Her mind screamed at her. Doubtless Tommy's was screaming at his.
But they parted anyway.
Tommy watched her quietly. "When it's over..." He asked.
"Then I'll take you home." Rita promised softly, then touched his temple, whispering a word. "If you need me, I'm right here."
"Thank you." Tommy whispered.
Rita stood, hesitating.
Leaving your son was hard.
But she did it anyway.
* * *
ELEVEN YEARS LATER...
The former Black Ranger reached to unlock his door.
It was open.
A hair. Nothing a human would have noticed. But Tommy Oliver was not quite human.
He frowned and pushed it open.
There, in the middle of his living room, stood an elvish woman in a white dress. Her long silver hair flowed to the ground now, and a metal staff was in her hand.
She held out her other.
"Son." She said, her smile lighting the room. "It's time to come home."