Chance
There was a one in a million chance, and it happened.
Kat lays on an operating table, now. Her lung, liver, diaphragm and one kidney are under repair by Felix and the best team of surgeons available. She had lost a lot of blood by the time they got there. When Doggie last saw her they were unable to awaken her with the defib so they were shooting adrenaline straight into her heart.
Now, he sits, waiting. He has already paced in his office, punched a dent in the chrome wall of his quarters and bitten an orange head's arm clean off. B–Squad sits with him, but he imagines Kat is much calmer when their roles are reversed. Thinking of Kat, and her current condition, brings up a swirl of painful emotions again. It should be him in there.
Since he was with B–Squad in the megazord, Cat ranger had been sent out to clean up a minimal mess downtown. It turned out to be a trap, though, and she was ambushed by a legion of krybots and orange heads. She disposed of them easily enough, but when she pounced at an orange head, Cruger showed up, distracting her. The orange head managed to get its claws through her suit's micromesh just enough to injure her. It had torn open her right lung, pierced her right kidney, torn her diaphragm and skimmed her liver.
I did this, he had thought in that painfully slow moment. He watched, horrified as her body went rigid and fell off the orange head's bloody claws. In a second he had its arm in his jaws and crushed it like a soda can. Turning, he managed to get her helmet off. She smiled at him for just a second before coughing up blood.
Everything is a blur. He can't stop thinking of the desperation that clung to him as he felt Kat's body go limp in his arms. He remembers calling for help; he remembers Felix compressing her chest as blood continued to leak from the corners of her lips where her fangs poked out. Now, he sits. It's all he can do, really. He thinks it has possibly been seven hours since she went in.
This isn't right, he thinks. It should be him in there, fighting to be alive. Usually she's the one waiting for him to make it, which isn't necessarily fair to her, but he's in more danger than her on a daily basis. He can't blame her, or the Cat morpher, but he can blame himself all he likes. He keeps looking at the distraught B–Squad, thinking that Kat should be here with them, with her calming presence. He's conditioned, and cold, and refuses to feel anything, because if he does, he will break under the possibility of life without her by his side.
"She'll be okay, right? I mean, it's Kat, she's tough," Z mutters somewhat to herself. Kat went into the OR almost eight hours ago, and Felix promised they'd have news by now.
"It's Kat, this place...it wouldn't be the same without her," Jack mutters darkly.
"Kat will be fine," Sky says firmly, though there's a shaking in his voice he can't hide. He's as scared as the rest of them that she won't make it. "There isn't another option in this."
"She'll be okay," Bridge nods, though his watery eyes don't agree as readily.
"She has to be," Syd whispers, placing her head back against her knees.
Felix had told them that the surgery had a low chance of success.
There was a one in a million chance, but it's happening: Kat is dying.
"Rangers, Commander," Felix rushes in, covered in blood. He notices their horrified expressions: "There was a lot of blood in her vascular system, but she's going to make it."
Doggie doesn't register his rangers all but collapsing from relief. The next thing he realizes is happening is him, sitting, holding Kat's fragile, pale hand. She'll be asleep, healing, for several hours. He can wait, for her. "I guess I get a second chance to tell you that I love you."