Ethan climbed to his feet feeling more awake and alert than he had in days. Talking with Eric had energized him – he was confident that together they'd be able to help Conner, but he was profoundly aware that they were working with a time limit, and time was running out. Ethan closed Conner's phone and tucked it into his back pocket in case Eric tried to reach him again, and after slipping his feet back into his sneakers headed for his bedroom door.

Ethan had no idea what time it was, but he felt like he hadn't slept all that long. Because of the rain it was hard to tell by the quality of light outside how deep into the afternoon they'd traveled, but Ethan knew it wasn't yet four o'clock. Ethan could feel anxiety building in his chest; this building anxiety was concern about getting past his parents. Ethan didn't have the ninja ability to streak from point A to point B. And, he was still at an age where he had to ask for the keys before he could use the car – the situation was desperate, but Ethan was not desperate enough to steal his parent's car.

Ethan jogged lightly down the stairs to the first floor. In his head he was rehearsing his strategy. Use as few words as possible. Don't say anything that is open to question or argument. State facts…don't demand. Don't use a tone that could be taken as rude or whining…that never works with Mom.

The stairs opened onto the living room, but from the landing Ethan could also easily see into the kitchen. Though his father was an avid sports fan and usually watched the games in the back room Ethan was not really surprised to find his father sitting in the living room. His father looked up and closed the book he was reading when Ethan came down the stairs. His mother, who had resumed working in the kitchen, rose from the table when she saw Ethan and walked into the living room toward him. Ethan knew he had to make a preemptive strike – he had to be the one to talk first…set the tone, or he'd never have a chance.

"I have to go back to the hospital." he stated urgently, addressing his mother. "May I please take the keys?" Ethan focused all of his energy on Beverly, willing her to instinctively understand his need and give in without an argument or discussion. So he was totally floored when it was his father who answered.

"No."

Ethan did a startled double-take. His father had risen from the chair where he'd been reading and moved to join his son and wife at the bottom of the stairs. Looking at the expression on his father's face Ethan knew he was in deep, deep trouble. From the time he was old enough to argue or be defiant Ethan had always been at odds with his mother. He loved her absolutely, and knew her love was without depth in return; but he couldn't stop the never ending wrangling between them. They were like oil and water – at odds about everything, but too similar to give in on any issue. And she was tough – a stern disciplinarian.

Tyrone James almost never directly intervened in any conflict, but was the ultimate peacekeeper between mother and son. His gentle, genial nature soothed both parties until a truce was called and peace reigned again. Ethan could always count on his father for a sympathetic ear – as long as he didn't disrespect his mother. Dad was always able to develop a reasonable solution to any issue that arose with his mom. And on more than one occasion, Ethan got his father's unwavering support when Mom's expectations or demands were (in Ethan's opinion) ridiculous.

That was why, when quickly formulating his plan of attack as he jogged down the stairs, Ethan had focused totally on his mother. She was the wall he needed to climb, the sentry he needed to get past – that was the way it had always been. So Ethan was totally unprepared when it was Dad and not Mom who responded. It took Ethan a moment to switch gears; in those precious seconds he lost even more ground.

"You're not going anywhere, Ethan, except back to bed. And tomorrow, when you're feeling better, you're going to sit down with me and your mother and tell us what really went on today." Tyrone had unconsciously folded his arms across his chest while he was speaking. His posture, imposing height and steely resolve would have sent Ethan scampering back upstairs on any other day – but not today. Ethan couldn't see it, but Beverly would tell him later that his expression changed into a mirror of his father's at those words. In that moment she saw something change between father and son, and it grieved her to see it. This was no little boy facing his father – what was about to pass between them was man to man.

Ethan took a deep breath, fighting to control his emotions. "I have to get back to the hospital." he repeated trying hard to keep his voice level.

"You're not going back out in this storm." his father replied. Ethan glanced out the window and his heart did a little skip as he realized that the storm did indeed seem to have picked up some steam. But he missed the concern and anxiety on his father's face because he was so concerned about his own needs.

How do I make them understand? How can I explain to him? Ethan took a step closer to his father; not to be physically threatening, but just to get closer to him. He had to somehow communicate his urgency. "I have to get to Conner, Dad. I have to help him."

Even as he said it, Ethan knew it was a mistake – he'd left himself wide open to argument. His father took the opening and jumped right in sounding exasperated. "Conner is in a hospital surrounded by many doctors and trained people. They are the ones who can help him, not you, Ethan." A low and distant rumble of thunder punctuated his father's statement. Ethan could feel his control beginning to slip – he was angry that his father didn't understand, and that he couldn't make him. Eric was getting closer and Conner was slipping away. Ethan was convinced that Eric wouldn't be of much use without him and Kira to help as well.

"You're wrong, Dad." Ethan's eyes flashed with anger and distress. "We can help Conner - me and Kira."

Tyrone interrupted, placing a hand on Ethan's shoulder and squeezing slightly. His voice was rough and edged with frustration. "No, Ethan! There's nothing you can do…you are not a doctor!"

"No, I'm not a doctor!" Ethan shouted back as he knocked his father's hand away and pulled out of his grip. "But I am his teammate! Conner needs me, and I won't go to my room like some child who's being punished!"

Tyrone's eyes went wide when Ethan physically pushed his hand away. He had never had a physical confrontation with his son. But the stress of the day, his concern about Ethan and his friends, seeing the emotionally wrecked condition of the others in the hospital had sent Tyrone's thoughts along a dark and scary path after he'd put his son to bed. It was frighteningly obvious that Conner was grievously injured today, and it could just have easily been Ethan. His son was safe and sound at home; Tyrone wasn't about to let him journey back into the storm.

"You will go to your room because that's what I've told you to do." Pointing forcefully at the stairs he continued at a volume just short of a roar, "This is not up for discussion. GO!"

Ethan staggered back a step and Beverly saw a flash of something cross his face. He took a strange stance, and for a heart-stopping moment she was convinced that he was drawing his fist back to hit his father. Startling both his parents, Ethan yelled out, "Dino Thunder, Power Up – HA!"

A fantastic display of light and sound followed Ethan's cry. In moments he was transformed, and standing at the foot of the stairs in their living room was the Blue Power Ranger. No one knew what to do. Both Beverly and Tyrone stood transfixed, not able to process what they had just witnessed. Neither one could reconcile the spandex clad figure standing before them with their son. Then he took off his helmet.

Ethan stepped toward his father again; his face was a picture of urgency and desperation. "Dad," he pleaded, "you have to understand. I know I'm not a doctor, but what's wrong with Conner is something a doctor cannot fix. It's Ranger business."

Tyrone stood silently shaking his head. Ethan tucked his helmet under his left arm and reached out to his father with his right hand. "Dad, please. There's not much time left. I know you don't understand…and I swear when this is over…after I help Conner… I'll explain as much as I can. But please, I have to get Kira and get to the hospital now."

With a shaking hand, Tyrone drew Ethan closer and pulled his son into a fierce embrace. Ethan hugged him back. Beverly wiped her eyes watching the moment between them, then turned on her heel and called out over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen, "I'll get the keys."

TBC
The good news is – no school tomorrow, and I'm finding all this rain inspirational!