Disclaimer: Don't own anything that was ever on TV.
A/N: Not much to say this time. Thanks for reading, reviewing, following and just being awesome. In case it's confused anyone, the quotes in italics at the start of each chapter aren't actually part of the chapter - think of them as unofficial chapter titles. They will always be quotes from that particular chapter; I've seen some TV shows that name their episodes after dialogue in each episode and liked the idea.
Unknown Location
July 10, 2012
8:00 AM
"Fuck you too, Rob Thomas."
Rocky DeSantos pressed his back against the dirty concrete wall behind him, panting as he scanned the surrounding windows for any sign of hostiles. The sunlight was harsh, unforgiving, illuminating every patch of sand that glistened with red and every discarded shell casing that littered the ground around him. His gear had begun to feel very heavy on his body, clinging to his skin through a layer of thick perspiration.
Squinting against the bright light, Rocky hoisted his weapon, the heavy object feeling foreign and awkward in his inexperienced hands, and leaned carefully around the corner. There was a loud report, and he jerked back behind the wall as a trio of bullets tore a small chunk out of the concrete he hid behind.
"Shit," he whispered, checking to ensure his weapon was ready. Suddenly he heard multiple sets of footsteps echoing off the shattered asphalt of the street, closing in fast. He glanced around quickly, seeking his next potential cover. The street was dotted with burned-out shells of cars and pockmarked with holes from bombs and bullets. Rocky pulled himself slowly off the ground and braced his weight against the wall with his feet, preparing to bolt at a moment's notice. His hands began to sweat against the hot metal of the weapon, his finger slipping dangerously close to the trigger.
Where's a Blade Blaster when you need one? He thought as he exhaled slowly through his teeth and counted silently down from three. When he reached one, he launched himself to his feet and whirled on his opponent, firing a few bursts in the direction he thought the footsteps had come from before darting out from behind the wall and racing down the street, diving behind a burning car and craning his ears for any sign of return fire. When none came, he let out a relieved sigh and climbed shakily to his feet, peering down the sidewalk for a doorway he could use for cover. He saw one, maybe thirty feet away, wide open and swinging lazily on its hinges. The wood was chipped from gunfire, the glass of the storefront window shattered and splayed out on the asphalt.
Moving more slowly this time, Rocky crept forward, easing out from behind the car. Before he could react he felt something cold pressed against his right temple. He froze, a bead of nervous sweat trickling down his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure standing to his right, wearing gear very similar to his own. The figure smiled and softly spoke two words.
"I win."
He fired. Blood sprayed onto the boarded up windows of the storefront as Rocky's body crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering on the pavement. His killer stood over him a moment longer, smiling gently, before the world began to fade to black and the words "Game Over" flashed on the screen.
"God damn it, Adam!" Rocky exclaimed, rocking forward in his seat and slamming his controller down into his lap. "You never would've beaten me if you didn't insist on camping like some twelve-year-old bitch!"
Adam Park grinned at Rocky from the couch across the room. He lay stretched out on his back, his crossed legs resting on one arm of the couch, his head on the other. "Perfectly legit strategy, dude. You're just pissed because that's six games in a row I've won." He set his controller on his chest and stretched his arms out before folding his hands behind his head.
Rocky snorted. "There's nothing 'legit' about playing with a strategy you learned from your nine-year-old cousin."
Adam just kept on grinning at the ceiling. "You conveniently forgot to mention that Troy kicked both our asses last time we played with him." He shrugged. "Don't hate the player, hate the game."
"Says the guy who uses a Fathead of Tim Tebow as a dartboard."
"That is entirely beside the point."
"Since the point was to make you look like a hypocrite, I'd say that fact is right on top of the point; probably dry humping it and about to finish."
"OK, now I know you haven't had enough sleep. You'd never have to stretch that far for a sex joke otherwise."
Rocky didn't respond to that, just blew out a frustrated breath and flopped back against the back of his chair, letting the controller rest on his lap. The two of them sat in Rocky and Aisha's living room, where they'd been since 4 or so in the morning. Adam's apartment building was being fumigated, so he'd been using the guest room here for the last week; Rocky had decided to make it into an extended, more mature version of the countless sleepovers the three of them had had over the years. That apparently included a few late-night rounds of Call of Duty as a (failed) insomnia remedy. OK, maybe it wasn't that much more mature, but at least the graphics had improved.
Rocky leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to think of a witty retort, when the opening notes of "Unwell" began to echo through the room. Rocky put a hand over his face, trying to convince himself that he was hearing things.
"Dude. Phone's ringing." Adam's voice practically dripped with smugness.
"Fuck you very much," Rocky groaned, sitting up slowly and heaving himself to his feet. Scratching his thigh absentmindedly, he crossed the carpeted room and climbed a single step up onto the hardwood floor that ran from the entryway into the kitchen. His phone sat on the kitchen counter, where he'd abandoned it after he'd come home yesterday. The music gave way to Rob Thomas' voice as Rocky tread softly across the hard floor, its smooth surface cold against his bare feet. As he reached the counter and braced himself against the granite surface, the song abruptly stopped. Rocky dropped his head and sighed loudly, leaning against the island with both hands.
"You know," another voice said from the hallway, and Rocky's head snapped up to behold Aisha Campbell-DeSantos, in a bright yellow bathrobe, standing where the hallway met the hardwood floor, arms crossed over her chest. Her posture screamed annoyance. "Most people given their first day off in more than three months from pulling people out of burning buildings would probably spend some of it sleeping." On the couch, Adam had sat up and was turning the Xbox off, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand as he did so.
"We got some sleep," he said, dropping the controller and switching off the flat screen TV with the nearby remote. "Only been up since four. You'd be surprised how many people are online at this hour."
"Bullshit," Aisha retorted. Rocky turned his body to face her and was about to respond when the music started again. He glanced down at the screen and checked the caller ID. Rolling his eyes and leaning on the counter again, Rocky picked up the phone.
"Fuck you too, Rob Thomas," he muttered under his breath before he brought the phone to his ear, vaguely hearing Adam and Aisha continuing to argue in the background. "Yeah?"
"Rocky?"
"What the hell do you want?"
"There's something I need to tell you."
DeSantos Residence
Angel Grove, CA
July 10, 2012
8:10 AM
Aisha glared at Adam, tapping a foot impatiently on the hardwood floor as she watched him pick at his dark green T-shirt distractedly. He was looking everywhere except at her, his expression unreadable as always. Behind him, Rocky stood at the island in the kitchen wearing nothing but a red T-shirt and blue boxers, his back to her, speaking quietly into the phone. She didn't know who he was talking to, but the way he gestured heatedly with every sentence told her it was either an unwanted caller or bad news.
"You two didn't really get any sleep at all last night, did you?" She asked again, her tone implying that she already knew the answer. Adam finally looked up at her, his face completely serene.
"I did," he said calmly, resting his hands on his knees. "I went to bed about one. Rock woke me up at four because he couldn't sleep and we thought if we did something mindless long enough he'd just nod off like he always does."
"And you never thought to ask him why he couldn't sleep or whether anything was wrong?" Aisha was barely restraining herself from shouting at this point. Adam's nonchalance about the whole thing was only making her angrier, and she knew he knew it.
"Of course I did. He just said it was insomnia. Not exactly an extreme diagnosis, Sha. So I humored him, let him occupy his mind with something else. What was I supposed to do, hand him a glass of Coke with two crushed up Ambien in it?"
"If it got him to sleep!" She shot back, uncrossing her arms and stepping down onto the carpet of the living room. "You weren't here last time we got a week off, Adam. I don't know if he would've slept that entire time if I hadn't snuck him some sleeping pills." Adam's eyes widened, but she shot down his question in midair. "I know it was sleazy and underhanded but…god, you should've seen him. It was like it was right after he lost his powers. You remember that?"
He leveled his gaze at her. "I'm surprised you do, considering you weren't even on this continent."
Aisha closed her eyes and gripped the bridge of her nose. "Jesus Christ, Adam, do you really think Kim didn't update me every half hour about what went on here? If anybody could find a way to get me that information, it was her. Anyway, you were there, as you so helpfully pointed out. You saw how bad he was."
Adam swallowed, nodded slowly. Rocky had been a mess for a while after his powers were taken away, no matter how hard he'd tried to hide it. It was almost as bad as Jason had been after Zordon; Rocky hadn't slept, had shown no interest in food (which frightened everybody more than they cared to admit) and appeared to become entirely apathetic toward the outside world. To Adam it had seemed like without his identity as a Power Ranger, as a protector, a defender of innocent lives, Rocky had seen nothing left in life to make it worth living. All of them had felt it, to some degree. Once you felt a sense of duty, a sense of purpose like that, it wasn't easy to give it up. Finding places in the Angel Grove Fire Department had been a godsend. Without it, Adam shuddered to think of what Rocky might have resorted to. Clearing his throat, he blinked a few times to clear his head and spoke again.
"Aisha, I know you're worried, and you have every right to be, but…" Adam glanced over his shoulder at Rocky, who was still engaged in his phone conversation. Lowering his voice, he turned back and continued. "This is only our first night off. Are you sure you aren't jumping to conclusions? This could very well be just typical, garden variety insomnia. I don't want you to worry over nothing."
Aisha came dangerously close to snapping at Adam at this, but at the last second his words began to make a kind of sense. Hadn't Rocky been doing significantly better over the last few months? His inability to sleep appeared to be the only remaining symptom this time. Could all this just be a coincidence?
She didn't have time to ponder the issue further. Rocky tossed his phone back onto the counter, where it clattered to a facedown position. He turned to face the two of them; Adam vaulted over the couch and leaned against it from behind. Glancing back and forth between his best friend and his wife, Rocky groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "That was Tommy," he said. "Jason and Kim have called an emergency former Ranger meeting at their place at ten. What time is it now?" He asked, suddenly realizing he'd lost track.
"Just after eight," Aisha responded. "He say anything about what happened? I'd figure the three of them would never run out on their jobs unless it was extremely important."
"That's about all I could get out of him," Rocky said. "That it was extremely important and that we needed to be there in two hours. He sounded pretty shaken up." Adam and Aisha stared back at him, bewildered looks on their faces. "Don't ask me anything else cause that's all I know. Tommy just swore up and down that Jason would explain everything when we got there."
Aisha whistled softly through her teeth and put her hands on her hips. "Really not how I planned on spending my first day off."
"Yeah, me neither, but you know those three," Adam put in, his posture remaining casual, peaceful. "If they say it's important I see no reason not to trust their judgment."
"All right, then. Let's go." Rocky grabbed his phone again and strode out of the kitchen and across the entryway to the front door, grabbing his keys off a hook on the wall.
"Rocky," Aisha said. "Shower."
"Took one. 3 AM. Thought it might help me sleep. Clearly I was wrong." Rocky reached for the doorknob as Adam spoke up, an amused smirk creeping over his face.
"Rocky. Pants."
Aisha put a hand to her mouth and giggled as Rocky looked down at himself and smiled sheepishly. "Right. Sorry."
"We have two hours, babe. Jase and Kim only live five miles from here," Aisha said gently. "No need to rush."
Before the words were even out of her mouth, Rocky was moving past her down the hallway toward their bedroom. "Hey Sha?" He called from inside. "Would you mind making some pancakes or something? I'm starving."
"Sure, hon. Anything else you want?"
"Maybe some hash browns while you're at it. Oh, and scrambled eggs. And bacon! Don't forget bacon."
Aisha smiled and shook her head, moving past Adam into the kitchen. As she did so, Adam looked up at her, a triumphant grin lighting up his face.
"Oh yeah," he said as he moved to help her. "He'll be fine."
Pink Ivory Dance Studio
Angel Grove, CA
July 10, 2012
8:00 AM
Zack Taylor had just inserted his key into the lock on the front door of Pink Ivory Dance Studio when he heard the office phone ringing from within the building. Startled by the sound, he stopped in mid-motion, the key half turned in the lock. Frowning, he peered into the dark interior of the studio for a moment as though he expected to see someone appear from the shadows to answer the call. Zack's reverie was quickly broken by footsteps scraping on the pavement behind him. As he turned to acknowledge them, his companion cocked her head at him and slowed to a halt in front of the entrance to the studio, which towered above them, a three story structure of dark metal and tinted glass.
"Something wrong?" Tanya Sloan smiled at Zack over a pair of designer sunglasses, crossing her arms over the front of her bright yellow tank top. He didn't reply for a moment, staring at the glass door, his hand still on the key. "Zack?"
"Shhh!" He held up a hand and pressed his ear against the door. "You hear that?"
Tanya pressed her ear to the door as well, the two of them listening quietly for a moment. The morning was crystal clear and practically silent; the only sounds the soft chirping of a nearby songbird and the distant hum of the morning traffic on the highway. After a moment, Tanya frowned and said, "I think I hear the phone ringing. So what?"
"No one ever calls this early," Zack replied, pushing the door open and holding it for her. Tanya hesitated for a moment before walking past him into the studio. The building had no lobby; the front doors opened directly into an enormous open room, mats spread out on the floor, a massive stereo system set up against the far wall. Off to the sides of this main room were doors and hallways which led to locker rooms, smaller practice rooms, a single soundproof room for private lessons, and the offices. Zack let the door swing shut behind him and followed Tanya across the expanse to the thick wooden door that opened on his office. "The place ain't even open yet, won't be for another hour. Why the hell would anyone need to…?"
Zack let the thought hang and let himself into the office, darting forward and snatching the phone off the desk. Foregoing the traditional professional greeting – "Pink Ivory Dance Studio, this is Zack, yadda yadda yadda" – he settled for "Yes?"
Tanya stood leaning on the doorway, frowning as Zack's expression went from curiosity to surprise to confusion in the space of a millisecond. She stepped forward into the office, about to ask what the problem was, but his next words stopped her cold.
"Kat? …I could ask you the same thing. I'm here with Tanya, we were gonna go through some choreography for her tour before the studio opened this morning." He looked up at her and she mouthed the word What? Zack just shrugged and shook his head before saying, "Yeah, she's right here. I'll put you on speaker."
Zack hit a button and set the handset down on his desk. Tanya just stared at it, unsure of whether she should say anything. After a moment, a slightly muffled version of Kat Hillard's soft Australian lilt emanated from the device, filling the small room they stood in.
"Good morning, Tanya."
"Hey Kat," Tanya replied, waving a little at the phone as though Kat could see her. "What's up? Isn't this a little early for you?"
"It's a lot early for me," Kat said. "But this is rather important, I'm told." Zack and Tanya exchanged a look as Kat continued. "Tommy called me about ten minutes ago. Apparently, Jason and Kimberly have called an emergency meeting. They're asking everyone in our group to meet at their place at ten. I was calling here to find someone to cover for Zack and me for the day. Lucky for me I got you two instead – saves me two extra phone calls."
Zack leaned forward onto the desk, pressing his palms onto the smooth wood. "What happened? Is everything OK?"
"As far as I know. Tommy was irritatingly cryptic."
"He didn't tell you anything?" Tanya asked incredulously, folding her arms over her chest again. "That doesn't sound like the Tommy I know."
"Believe me, it's not the Tommy any of us know," Kat sighed, and Zack narrowed his eyes at the phone, a small chill running down his back as the gravity of Kat's words began to sink in. "He sounded so strange, Tan, I haven't heard him use that tone since…the old days." They had decided they would keep mentions of their Ranger days coded over the phone and especially on the Internet, just in case anyone was watching or listening. "He sounded really shaken up, and he said something about how I would understand better if I'd seen what he saw…I'm not sure I want to know what he was talking about."
Zack's twinge of worry had grown into a full-on, gnawing anxiety, verging on panic, and he voiced the concern that had taken root in the back of his mind. "Something happened to Jase or Kim, didn't it?"
"Zack, I just told you I don't know anything else. I heard Jason's voice in the background and he sounded fine, if that helps at all. Anyway, I still have to call Trini and Billy. See you guys in two hours."
There was a soft click as Kat hung up. Zack stood rigid, his hands balling into fists. Tanya reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm; when he turned to face her, she flashed her warmest smile and said, "I'm sure Jason's fine, Zack. We both know how well he and Kim can take care of themselves. Now should we leave now or do you want to wait until somebody else arrives to watch the studio?"
"No, we should probably go so I can change. I won't get that shower I was planning on at this rate," Zack said, gesturing at the ratty black tank top and grey sweats he'd arrived in. He bent to write a quick note for the normal opening crew when they arrived; as he went to tape it to the wall, he suddenly glanced up at Tanya, his face darkening. "Are you sure you want to go to this thing at all? You and Adam haven't been in the same place very much since you broke it off and…"
"And we decided our friendship was too special to ruin with an ugly breakup," Tanya finished for him. "It's been three years since we split, and in that time Adam and I haven't said one unkind thing to each other. I'll be fine, I promise. Besides," she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, giggling a little at the way his eyes lit up. "Maybe now we can finally announce our couple status as official."
He grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, walking her out of the office and across the main room to the front door. "Well, when you put it that way."
"We do have two hours, you know," Tanya said abruptly as they pushed through the front door and Zack turned back to lock it. "Maybe we can squeeze that shower in after all."
Zack gaped at her, at a complete loss for words for a long moment. Finally he seemed to recover and breathed, "Well this day just keeps getting better and better." The two of them jogged across the bright, empty parking lot to Zack's black Jeep and swung themselves into the seats.
As they were pulling out, Tanya's cell phone began ringing, filling the car with Alicia Keys' voice. Glancing at the caller ID, Tanya chuckled a little and muttered, "Unbelievable. I know it's early but still…" She brought the phone to her ear. "Miss me already?"
"Hey Tan," Kat said, all business. "I'm having no luck getting hold of Trini. Can you and Zack swing by her place on your way over? I just want to make sure she gets the news."
"Sure, no problem," Tanya said, as much fake cheerfulness in her voice as she could fit.
"Thanks," Kat said before promptly hanging up again. Tanya brought the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment.
"Nice talking to you, too," she muttered before turning to Zack and filling him in on the change of plans.
"Damn it," he sighed, smacking the steering wheel with one hand. "Only Trini could cock block me without even being here."
