A\N: So, my bunnies hate me. This was originally supposed to be the last episode of the Lithium arc, but it's too big, so pt. IV will come out later. Oh, and remember all that foreshadowing about Anton not being Mesegog? Anton is still a (censored). I really do not know why. aslkkddkf I hate you bunnies.
Location: AMI Research and Development, Reefside
Date: September 12, 2003
They were too late.
Tommy walked into the ruined building. Most of it had collapsed. If there had been people in here...No, don't think that, Tommy, if there had been people they'd have looked, done something, they're not like that. Even hiveminding they're not that reckless.
"Your kids did this?" Rocky sounded seriously impressed. "Damn, man."
"Maintain radio silence." It was more professional than snapping 'shut up, Rocky'. The other Ninjetti heard the meaning in it and shut up anyway.
Adam moved a bit closer. The Black Power whispered between them, Ranger to Ranger, an emotional hand on the shoulder.
Tommy shut his eyes.
He opened them again a second later. Grief was for later; for now he had to find them. He glanced around the lobby. The devastation was insane, but...there. He walked over to a tossed-aside chair.
There were three claw marks nearly shredding it. Mesegog.
"All right, Ninjetti, listen up." Billy, Kat, and Kim were missing and Tommy was morphed as Dino Black, but the remaining Ninjetti looked at their leader attentively. "The kids are somewhere in here, probably injured. Mesegog's somewhere in here too. We're going to spread out and search. The second any of you see anything, and I mean anything, shout it out, and the rest of us will come give you backup. Do not engage."
They nodded.
"Bro, um...don't you think you're freaking out a bit here?" Rocky asked cautiously. "I mean, yeah, they're crazy, obviously, but from what you've told us..." He shrugged. "Well, seems like they'd do fine if you just demorphed and let them figure out you aren't going to eat them for lunch."
Tommy blinked.
"...Rocky? They've killed before. And they weren't even fully into this state." Tommy shook his head. "Look, I know you guys don't know them, but-"
"But we do know what traumatized kids are capable of." Adam pointed out. "Especially Rocky. We work with pediatric psychology, remember?"
Tommy hesitated. Some part of his brain, the part that wasn't emotionally scarred from years of the abuse Anton had put him through, registered what Adam and Rocky were saying.
The rest of him, entirely incapable of thinking that this wasn't the end of the world, just rolled his eyes. "And I appreciate that. But right now these kids have adult powers, adult bodies, the ability to morph, and are wholeheartedly convinced that anything moving should be killed. Not 'taken out', not 'neutralized', killed." Tommy met each of their eyes. "Do not engage. That is an order. Am I clear?"
Various grumbled 'yessir's came from the comms. Tommy sighed, but he wasn't going to spend time reassuring them, not when his instincts were still screaming that this was a life-or-death emergency. "All right. Ninjetti, move out."
*PR*PR*PR*
Twenty minutes later...
"Fearless, I found something."
Tommy froze, his eyes sweeping around to check that he was secure as he responded to Adam. "Right, on my way. Ninjetti, to Black, now."
They all moved like lightning, reaching Adam in less than a minute. Thank God for ninja streaking, Tommy thought dryly.
Adam was standing next to a door. "I'm picking up heat signatures on the other side." He explained.
Tommy did the same scan. Multiple heat signatures. Separated, not together. "Not the kids. Civilians, it looks like."
"How can you tell?" Rocky asked.
Tommy snorted. "Right now I doubt they're half a foot apart from each other, these guys are a good ten or twenty feet apart." He pulled out his blaster, aiming at the door. "Let's go. We need to evacuate them before we continue."
He blasted the door open and walked in.
Then he remembered exactly why he hated AMI's R&D department.
*PR*PR*PR*
Location: Mercer Household, Reefside
Date: September 13, 2003
The only mistake Mesegog had ever made was letting Anton Mercer live.
Most of the time they functioned as a warped version of brothers. Mesegog thought Anton was weak, and built a place in their shared mind for Anton to sleep, while he made the world safe for Anton; Anton, well aware of the inherent filth of the world, avoided it and let Mesegog rebuild a world that he could survive in.
But Mesegog had tried to hurt Anton's son.
Now, two days later, Anton finished up a conference call with an insincere smile, firing off a few emails and glancing at the time. They would be awake by now, it was almost ten in the morning. They'd been up late, though, talking and trying to break out.
Anton sighed. Teenagers.
He shut off his computer and headed upstairs. Outside of Trent's door he hesitated, checking; yes, Mesegog was still asleep, curled up in the back of Anton's mind. Anton was free now. Free, and safe.
He pulled the key out of its hiding place, carefully altering his memories of the hiding place to self-destruct when Mesegog awoke, and unlocked the door.
Trent looked like a wild thing, sitting in the room of a teenage boy. He was sitting on the bed, telepathically talking to his siblings. Anton smiled, slowly shutting the door.
He didn't shut it quietly enough. Trent's head snapped up.
Anton stilled, sending out signals of calmness, nonthreatening peace. Trent hesitated, but then relaxed visibly, accepting Anton's presence. Anton smiled and walked slowly over to him, sitting down and reaching out. Trent curled into his father's side, too lost in his mindmeld for the pride of a teenage boy.
Anton shut his eyes. Finally. Finally, he was home.
Trent 'spoke' first. Daddy? Others where? He was already picking up Conner's signspeak. So close, those children.
With Tommy\Black, Anton sent back, using thoughts as simplified as his son's.
No. No they aren't. Stop lying.
Anton sighed and sent an impression of truthfulness, of how difficult it was for any of them to think clearly. Trent hesitated, but fundamentally trusted his father. He relaxed again, content.
No, Anton thought, 'trust' was the wrong word. Trent was traumatized. He didn't trust his father. He believed in his father, emotionally depended on Anton, because the alternative was to remember what Mesegog had done to him using Anton's face.
To remember what had been done, and try to understand why. And when you were fifteen, 'why' was about you. What you'd done. Especially if someone had told you that at the time.
Even at seventeen now, Trent couldn't erase that scar.
Anton sighed. It didn't matter. He had work to do now.
He gently nudged at Trent's mind, asking permission. Trent reached for his father's mind in return, unconditionally, unthinkingly, as faithful as a baby. Anton let their minds meld, carefully reaching for his son's thoughts.
This was difficult, skilled work. Anton had spent a lifetime developing his psychic powers, but no amount of training removed the inherent emotions involved. That was magic; psi was the basis for magic, the most fundamental access to magic every sorcerer developed in infancy, but magic used symbols and outside help to work with it.
A psychic stripped away symbols, potions, words. They worked with the most primal energies. And there was emotion involved, but even if Anton had studied magic, it wouldn't work for this.
This was too raw.
As Anton worked, Trent noticed Mesegog sleeping in Anton's mind. To Anton's surprise, he didn't ask who it was, he seemed to already know. (A minor victory, the boy barely recognized anyone.) Instead he asked, Not daddy? Different?
Anton considered that answer. ...Yes. (an image of two beings, separate, in one body) Not daddy. Daddy here. Awake. Mesegog there. Asleep.
That had been too wordy for Trent. It wasn't that he'd lost IQ points, he was still the same near-genius Anton knew, it was just that he'd lost most of his linguistic skill. Anton used Jungian archetypes this time, two circles for spirits, one white and one black, first emphasizing different, then putting them in one body.
Trent understood that.
The shock and emotion dislodged what Anton was doing, exploded so brightly Anton mentally jumped back, biting back curses. Trent glomped Anton, all but trying to burrow into his father's shoulder. Not you. Thought it was you but not you not you not you...
...You thought me? Me hurt you?
(an impression of his face and cold energies and pulling away)
Oh god.
Anton felt sick. Oh, god. Trent had thought he had...No. No, not me, never me. Love you. Love you always.
Trent's thoughts were pure relief and that strange, loyal 'love'.
Anton retreated from Trent's mind, re-establishing the connection at a less deep level. He wasn't going to get any more work done for hours. He might as well-
There was a crash.
Trent looked up, and Anton sighed, sending an image of an animal crashing around downstairs. Trent laughed, and Anton kissed the top of his head, sending an impression of him going to check.
Trent was sad, but nodded and let Anton go.
Anton locked the door behind him and hid the key, then went downstairs, now fully irritated. Sure enough, Conner, Kira, and Ethan were standing in his living room, having broken out.
Anton reached for their minds.
He wasn't Mesegog. He didn't break them, just dulled their thoughts and left them feeling sleepy and warm. He suggested to them they go back to their room. Well, not their room. From what he'd found in their hivemind, they all preferred the idea of taking Trent and going to live in Conner's car for the rest of their lives.
But Anton wouldn't allow that.
He sent the Ranger-children to sleep and started repairing the door, sighing. "You three are going to be more annoying than anyone I've ever met." He informed them, talking to the sleeping teenagers while he worked.
Looking at them, he felt a pang of guilt.
"...I'd help you." He said quietly. "I would. I really would. But I can't. You understand, right? I can help Trent, he's psychic even if he won't admit it, he hasn't been mindlinked like you three have...I don't have a choice. I have to leave you like this. I'd kill you if I tried to separate you."
They slept on. They were all half-draped over each other, close even in sleep. Their shared dreams were a guarded place that Anton, who normally could hear almost every thought in a room, couldn't even begin to sense, and didn't want to.
"I'm sorry."
They slept on.
Anton hesitated, then finished fixing the door. When it was done, he glanced around the room. They had books, some of that horrible junk food they liked, coloring books and crayons. Some of the pictures were even colored, Anton noticed with a dry smile.
He shut the door and locked it.
His son needed him.
*PR*PR*PR*
Location: Reefside General Hospital, Reefside
Date: September 13, 2003
The lockdown was over.
Tommy hadn't wanted that, but it was clear the teenagers had been taken. They weren't a threat anymore. Standing down was the only option with the mess that waited if they gave the CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, or anyone else time to process. The Ninjetti were still in Reefside. No one really wanted to go home.
Tommy saw them standing around the lobby. He'd offered his couch, but they'd opted for staying at the hospital instead. They'd planned on morphing in turns so there would always be a Ranger around, but Vasquez (Tommy was going to frickin' marry Vasquez he loved the man so much) had taken over that part.
The Ninjetti looked...sleepless. Tommy knew the feeling.
He dug out his wallet and handed them a card. "There's a McDonald's near here somewhere. Get me one of those breakfast sausage things, would you?" Rocky took the card and nodded, too tired to say anything.
Tommy headed up to the quarantine rooms.
There were families there, parents, children, siblings, cousins. Vasquez had been reassuring everyone and providing updates when Tommy had left; now, like the families, he sat quietly in a corner.
The door to the quarantine ward was piled high on either side with flowers, cards, pictures, teddy bears and toys for the little one they'd found. Tommy had brought a wildflower he'd found growing near his house; he knelt and set it down before going to talk to Vasquez.
"You look like shit." Vasquez said, not even opening his eyes.
Tommy eased down next to him. "They aren't hurt. Mesegog took Trent away from them, so they're pissed, but they aren't hurt. Didn't let me sleep a wink, though." He glanced at the door. "How are they?"
Vasquez looked at the door. Tommy saw the expression.
They'd found five civilians. Three adults; one teenager; one eight-year-old girl. The children were siblings, but they were the only pair that knew each other.
All of them were infected with unknown bioweapons.
Reefside's CDC had quarantined them instantly, and word had come from somewhere that the top priority of the hospital was saving these patients. But when Tommy had gone home...the images of finding them, nearly unable to move from near-starvation, coughing up blood or dry heaving, the littlest one not even crying, haunted his mind.
"The doctors won't say." Vasquez replied. "You know, we thought most of them were kidnap victims? California had an Amber Alert out for the two kids." Vasquez shut his eyes. "Their family might not even make it in time. I hate my job."
Tommy understood.
There was nothing to do but wait, so they waited together, half-asleep, waited alongside these families, families suddenly learning that loved ones weren't dead...that instead, they were dying in a hospital that some of them had never heard of.
After a while, one of the doctors came out and walked over to Vasquez. "Officer, you can contact the Power Rangers, right?"
Vasquez glanced up. "Yeah, why?"
The doctor sighed. He looked as wonderful as Tommy and Vasquez did now, Tommy idly noted. "The little girl. Whatever she's got, it's progressing too rapidly." The doctor hesitated. "I know her family can't get here, and we've had her on the phone with them for hours, but if someone could come..." He paused again. "I know the Power Rangers found her. It would..." He shook his head. "I know it's a lot. But if they could come."
Vasquez looked at Tommy. "Hey, Oliver, can you run out to the car and make the call for me? I've got a number on my phone..."
"Sure." Tommy said, jumping up. He went out, wove through a few hallways, and ducked into a janitor's closet. "Hey, guys." He said into his morpher. "Wanted to talk to you."
"Sup?" Rocky asked.
Tommy explained. They all agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, the doctors were babbling about how nice it was and letting them into the little girl's room. Tommy saw a glimpse of another family being taken into their loved one's room. How many were going to die today?
Aisha instantly walked over to the girl. "Hey, kiddo! How're you doing?"
The girl lit up. "Yellow Ranger!" Tommy forgot how loudly eight-year-old girls squealed. "Oh my god I have an action figure of you and I totally love you and you're the best ever! And all you other guys!" She started coughing, blood specking the sheets.
"Careful, 'Sha." Adam warned over the team comm. The 'cloth' over his face canceled out the noise. "The blood won't get you sick if you're morphed, but you don't have your helmet on."
Aisha made a face, barely visible under the facemask. The Ninja morphs differed from the others, in that the 'helmet' was a force field containing all the things a normal morph contained, making it virtually a self-contained, one-man spacesuit that was indestructible. The helmet didn't have to be on, and didn't always activate. Aisha activated hers, a faint blue tinge surrounding her head, and smiled at the little girl, rubbing her back gently and talking to her animatedly about puppies.
Tommy felt tears sting his eyes.
An hour later, the girl died. The Rangers stood silently around her, Aisha holding one hand, the big sister, who the doctors had wheeled in, holding the other.
They stayed there, silent, for another moment. Then Adam turned to the big sister. "I'm sorry for your loss." He said quietly.
The girl didn't reply.
"Hey, Trisha, you awake?" One of the doctors asked, reaching out to shake a hazmat-suit-covered shoulder. The girl's head lolled.
She had died with her sister.
*PR*PR*PR*
The outbreak started at the hospital.
Later, people would point to the decision of the doctors to allow families, who didn't know and were likely to ignore proper quarantine protocols, into the rooms of the dying. They would say it was the CDC's fault for not checking to be sure the ones who had visited were properly quarantined in turn. They would say it was a planned outbreak, that Mesegog had intended for those five to be found, to spread an unstoppable disease.
They would be wrong. It was unpreventable, and a horrible accident.
But by the end of the day, the city would be in lockdown a second time, and this time the full force of the Earth Ranger Corps would be swooping in on Reefside in a mad-dash attempt to stop the outbreak before it killed everyone in the city.
And no one knew if they would succeed.