Summer was led into an interview room, where the Colonel and another officer were waiting. She had been subjected to numerous tests by the forensics officers, and cleaned up. Her clothes had been taken for further analysis, and she had been given a pair of plimsolls and a paper gown to wear. She moved slowly, her movements hindered by leg irons and her hands secured in front of her body by handcuffs. As she entered the interview room, she couldn't hold her head up. Colonel Truman was in the room. She had known him and Scott for a long time, and she felt like she had let them both down by ending up in this situation, even if she didn't remember how she got there.

"Take off the restraints." Colonel Truman instructed the officer bringing her into the room. "I'll take responsibility for the suspect."

He removed the restraints and left the room. Colonel Truman gestured for her to sit down. Summer did so, holding her head in her hands. She still couldn't look at the man who she considered to be almost a parent. She was sure he felt sorry for her and was supportive of her, but in her heart, all she felt from him was shame. She had destroyed every ounce of faith he had in her by going with those guys in the bar, and all over a stupid argument with Dillon.

"Would you like some water?" He asked her. She nodded wordlessly in response. He poured some water into a plastic cup and handed it to her. She took a long drink, thankful for the opportunity to finally alleviate some of the dryness in her mouth and her throat. "What happened last night?"

"I was in the bar with the others." She told him, feeling like a child being scolded. She had been so close to him for so long that the thought of going to prison scared her less than the thought of seeing his face if she ever disappointed him. "I was there quite late. I met up with three guys there after the others left and we played pool."

"How much did you have to drink?" He asked her. Summer shook her head.

"I don't remember." She told him. "I had a couple before the others left. A lot of the night is kind of hazy."

"When did you leave the bar?" He asked her, the tone in his voice indicating the hope she would have more to say. She shook her head again.

"I don't remember." She repeated. "I remember feeling pretty light-headed."

"You were drunk?" He asked her.

"No, it was more than that." She told him in a deep sigh. She still couldn't believe she had been taken in like that, but she was sure she had fallen victim to a couple of guys who didn't want to take "no" for an answer, and so had drugged her so she wouldn't be able to fight back. "I could barely stand. I zoned out after that. I think someone spiked my drink."

He pulled out three photographs and showed them to her. Summer could barely look at them. It was the three men from the bedroom. The photographs of the crime scene brought back the full horror of the scene, and made her feel sick to her stomach.

"Are these the three men from the bar?" He asked her. She nodded.

"They are." She told him. "I woke up in the room and found them like that."

"Your clothes were torn and you have extensive injuries." He reminded her. "Was there some kind of fight?"

"I don't remember." She told him, her tears beginning again. She genuinely didn't know what had happened. It seemed probable that she had been involved in a fight, but she didn't remember anything about what had happened. She wished she could tell him something else, but the more she tried to remember, the less she could. She genuinely didn't know what had happened in that apartment.

"Did they attack you?" General Truman asked her, his voice sounding a little hopeful.

"I don't know." She told him tearfully. She really wished she could say that they had attacked her and she had defended herself, but she couldn't remember what had happened much beyond when she watched Dillon giving up on her and walking out the door. "I'm sorry, I just don't know. I...I think they might have, but I don't know."

"Was anyone else in the apartment?" He asked her.

"I told you, I don't know!" She screamed, becoming more and more frustrated by the questioning as it went on. She looked to the Colonel a little apologetically. "I don't remember leaving the bar or anything after that until I woke up."

He sighed and took off his glasses. He liked Summer; she had been friends with his son for a long time, but things didn't look good for her. As much as he hated doing this to her, he couldn't treat her favourably.

"Sir, I want to ask..." She stammered, looking a little warily at the other officer in the room. Colonel Truman gestured to the door.

"Leave us." He told him. "I'll call you back in a second."

"Sir?" He asked him. Colonel Truman looked into his eyes sternly. The other officer got up and left the room. Colonel Truman looked at her sympathetically. He had some idea of what she wanted to ask him. "Was...was I...?"

"No." He interrupted her mercifully, preventing her from having to ask. "Your injuries were consistent with a sexual assault, but they were prevented from going through with the act. It looks like they were killed while they tried to restrain you."

He rounded the table and held her in his arms warmly. He hated to think she had to face this situation.

"I promised you that I would protect you." He reminded her. "What you're worried about didn't happen."

Summer felt only a little relief at this news. It didn't do anything to make the case against her look any better, but at least she knew they hadn't managed to take that last little piece of dignity from her.

The other officer came back into the room, carrying a clip board and handed it to General Truman as he sat back down. Colonel Truman read the report, before turning to the other officer.

"Are you sure?" Colonel Truman asked him. "The lab is certain of these results?" The other officer nodded gravely. Colonel Truman turned back to Summer and let out a sigh.

"Summer, if you can tell us anything, please do so." He said in a tone that betrayed his feelings. She was, if anything, the daughter he never had. He hated to see her in this situation. "This isn't helping."

"I wish I knew." She whispered, drying her eyes. "I just...don't remember anything."

"The tox screen of your blood sample has returned." He told her. "It shows you had alcohol in your system..."

"I told you I had a few drinks." She responded shamefully. She was far from a habitual drinker, but Colonel Truman had been in her life for so long that his opinion of her meant a lot to her. She couldn't bear the thought of him getting the idea she was paralytic and had gone home with a bunch of guys she didn't know after everything he had done for her.

"The level of alcohol found in your blood was not sufficient to cause a blackout." He told her regretfully. "There were no traces of any other foreign substances in your body."

"That's not possible!" She shrieked; the desperation in her voice obvious. "I can't remember anything!"

"The knife from the scene of the crime has your fingerprints on it." He informed her. "Summer, you're under arrest for the first degree murder of Paul White, Terry Bolland and Mark Gallows. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?"

Summer nodded her head sadly. She couldn't believe this was happening. It was a nightmare, it just had to be. How could this be happening? Her fingerprints were on the knife. The tox screen had come back negative for sedatives, and it appeared as though the men had tried to rape her, and in response she had murdered them. Was it possible she had lashed out and killed them in an attempt to defend herself? The more she tried to remember, the more confused she became. It truly was worse than any nightmare she'd ever had. Looking at Colonel Truman, she noticed he couldn't look her in the eye. She was sure he was ashamed of her. Nothing could have hurt her more at that moment.

"I have to warn you that there is a lot of media interest in this case." Colonel Truman informed her. "We're worried about a backlash over this. There is a lot of ill feeling surrounding this case. For your own safety, you will be remanded in custody until your trial."

"I understand." Summer told him.

"We'll sort you out with something else to wear." He told her. Summer smiled a little at this. It wasn't a huge comfort, but there really wasn't much he could say to her that would make this any better. It wasn't much, but in his own way he was letting her know he supported her, even if the evidence against her did not look good.

"Thank you sir." She replied as she got up from the table. The custody officer came back into the room, carrying the chains. Summer didn't try to resist as he secured them around her wrists and her ankles, before leading her away.

As soon as she'd left, Colonel Truman pulled off his glasses and wiped his eyes of tears. He didn't want to see this happen to her, but he knew that enforcing the laws of Corinth was one of his main responsibilities. He looked to the sergeant standing in the room.

"You're dismissed." He told him.

"Colonel, if you're upset..."

"Sergeant, you're dismissed!" He barked a little too forcefully. The young officer left the room quickly, leaving the Colonel alone with his thoughts. He would never want her to face this, not after what happened before. He had protected her for so long, but he knew the past was going to come out. Everyone would hear about the incident that had almost broken her, and it was sure to make the case against her, if anything, more solid. As much as he hated the thought of what might happen, he couldn't see any way around it. He was almost certain that she'd be found guilty.

"I'm sorry Summer." He whispered to himself. "I tried."

Later in the night, Summer was lying alone in her cell. She had been given a pair of blue denims and a pale grey T-shirt, standard attire for remand prisoners to wear. It wasn't much, but it was a hell of a lot better than the paper robes she had been given by the forensic examiners. She was stirred out of her sleep by a sound in the hall. She looked up to see Dillon standing there.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him, running to the bars. She reached through the bars, taking his hand in hers.

"I wanted to see you." He replied. "Colonel Truman told us that custody is off-limits, but you know how much that means to me."

"Thanks." She told him.

"Nice outfit." He joked. "I thought Yellow wasn't your colour, but grey definitely doesn't flatter you."

"I'll speak to my wardrobe department about that." She said sarcastically. "Personally I really hate the shoes."

"Well you are on suicide watch." He reminded her. "They couldn't give you shoe laces or anything else you might try to harm yourself with."

"Well at least I got a room to myself." She told him gesturing into the cell. "Since I helped put a lot of the inmates in here, I'm in isolation for my own safety."

"Summer, what happened?" He asked her. She shook her head in a defeated manner. He hated to see her like this; she looked like she had all but given up on this situation.

"I don't know." She told him. "After you left, everything went blank. I remember feeling light-headed and trying to leave. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in a room full of butchered corpses."

"You don't remember anything?" He asked her. "Were you drugged?"

"Not according to the tox screen." She told him. "I had a couple of beers, but nowhere near enough to have that effect on me."

She squeezed his hand a little, wiping away a tear.

"I understand how it must be for you." She told him. "I never understood before, but I'm freaking out over this and I'm only missing a few hours. I can't imagine how much worse it must be to be missing out on everything."

"You never miss what you never had." He told her, trying to get back on the subject in hand. "What are they saying happened?"

"My injuries suggest they..." She couldn't bring herself to tell him, but as she looked at him, she knew he understood what she meant. "They were killed in the struggle."

"They think you did it?" Dillon asked her.

"The door was locked from the inside." She told him. "The knife had my fingerprints on it. There was no one else in the room. Of course they think it was me! Who else could have done it?"

"No, you couldn't have done it." He told her, reaching a hand through the bars and touching her cheek.

"But the evidence..."

"I don't care about the evidence." He assured her. "I know you, and you aren't capable of something like that."

"I'm not so sure." Summer murmured, her tears beginning again. "Maybe I wouldn't do that if I was thinking straight, but when I was drugged? If I was desperate...?"

"No, you couldn't have done it." Dillon told her flatly, wiping a tear away from her cheek with his thumb. "I'm going to prove that."

He turned to leave, but she kept a hold of his hand. He turned back to her to see her greeting him with a weak smile.

"For what it's worth, you're right about one thing." She told him. "I'm not in control, and it scares the hell out of me."

"We'll get you out of this." He responded, dropping her hand. "I promise."

He turned from her and left, making his way quietly from the cell block. He met Ziggy in the hall.

"I told you to be quick!" He whispered in a panic. "We're not meant to be here! I still can't believe you talked me into hacking the security system to get you in here!"

"I needed to see her." Dillon told him. "There's no way she did this."

"We all support her in this." Ziggy replied. "But we have to be serious. The evidence..."

"I don't give a damn about the evidence Ziggy!" He snapped. "I saw the look in her eyes; I know she isn't capable of doing something like this. One way or another, I'm going to prove it."

"How?" Ziggy asked him.

"By doing my job and looking for the evidence." He replied. "Now, you can go back home and wait until the court case, or you can come with me and do something to help her."

"Willy Wonka strikes again." Ziggy sighed, following him from the building. "Why do I get the feeling the Venjix Barrier's going to look like a cake walk by comparison?"

They arrived back at the garage, finding Flynn under his jeep, working on something, while Scott was pacing, ranting about something. Seeing the look in his eyes as they arrived back, Ziggy could guess what he was talking about, but opted to pull out of it. Scott and Dillon always clashed heads anyway, and he was used to just retreating to the sidelines and letting them duke it out.

"Where the hell have you been?" Scott snarled as he got into Dillon's face. Ziggy just backed off a fair way while Flynn got off the floor. While they normally clashed heads, it was usually not serious. In a state like this, it was obvious that leaving the two of them alone together would only lead to bloodshed. "We needed..."

"I had my morpher." Dillon cut him off casually, taking a seat and crossing his feet on a table. "If you wanted me..."

"We're not allowed to get involved in the case!" Scott snapped, swiping Dillon's feet off the table. Ziggy backed into the wall, seeing the look in their eyes.

"I am involved in the case, I'm her friend!" Dillon said coldly. "What's your excuse?"

With that, Scott launched himself at the Black Ranger, slamming fists into his face and body wherever he could. Flynn threw himself between them, forcing them apart as they threw punches at each other.

"You aren't doing a damn thing to help her!" Dillon snarled as he struggled to get to him.

"Summer means the world to me you sanctimonious asshole!" Scott barked as he reached an arm past Flynn and smashed it into Dillon's face.

"Pack it in the pair of you!" Flynn yelled as he shoved Scott onto his ass while keeping Dillon behind him. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep them apart. "I hate what's happening too, but this isn't helping! If either of you throw one more punch, I swear I'll kick the living shit out the two of you!"

They both realised that he had a point. Both of them were focussing on their own pain, and couldn't appreciate others were hurting too. Scott stormed off in a terrible mood.

"That's right, walk away..."

"If you want to keep your teeth straight, end that statement RIGHT NOW!" Flynn warned Dillon. He backed down a little. He didn't have any real problems with the Blue Ranger, and if anything, he kind of respected his level-headed attitude. It wasn't often he would threaten violence. "This is about Summer!"

"Scott doesn't..."

"I'd advise you to stop there!" Flynn warned him. "I'd slap the piss out of you for saying it. If Scott was here, all hell would break loose if you dared to say it."

"What happened?" Dillon asked him. Flynn looked to the ceiling for inspiration.

"This wouldn't be the first time someone's taken an interest in Summer." He sighed. "You know...like that!"

"She was..."

"No!" Flynn interrupted him. "It never got that far, but it almost did. She was young, and someone tried to take advantage."

"So what's with..."

"Scott and Summer have been best friends for years!" He interrupted him. "Colonel Truman almost looks on her like a daughter."

Dillon slumped against the wall with a deep sigh as he realised his mistake.

"I suggested he didn't care..."

"There's no one Scott cares for more." Flynn informed him. "Well, no one alive anyway."

"So what happened?" Dillon asked him.

"I really don't know." Flynn told him honestly. "All I know is someone gave her hassle, and Colonel Truman sorted it out. Other than that, they kept it between themselves."

"Who..."

"Summer keeps a lot of stuff close to her chest." Flynn interrupted him. "Maybe there's a reason. I'd respect her wishes if I were you."

"I would except for one thing." Dillon told him. "She's being arrested for murder! She'll be in prison for life if she's convicted! I need to know anything that could help!"

"If she wanted people to know what happened, she'd tell them." Flynn responded. "I have ideas, but she hasn't told me what happened. I figure if she wants me to know..."

"You don't always want people to know." Dillon cut him off as he left the room. "Thanks Flynn."

With that, he turned and left. Ziggy came out of the corner he'd be hiding in and came to Flynn's side.

"I think you should go with him." Flynn told him. "He's likely to do something stupid."

"What makes you say that?" Ziggy asked.

"It's Dillon." He replied. "I'd never call him stupid, but let's face it. He isn't exactly known for thinking about things too deeply before he does them."

"Point taken." Ziggy agreed as he left quickly. Flynn sat on the stairs and held his head in his hands.

"I really hope you can control him." He said to himself. "Otherwise, he'll end up doing more harm than good."