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Jason wasn’t quite sure exactly where the discomfort started. It was subtle and elusive, the ghost of a living haunt keeping close to the shadows, dancing away from the light. One moment it was applying pressure to his stomach, a gradually increasing force that crept its way from the corner of his hip to the base of his navel before it disappeared all together; in the the next, it was draped neatly about his wrists, ribbons of invisible lace that noiselessly constricted, itchy and tight and then no longer there. A sudden soreness materialized in the hinge of his jaw, the dull pain curling up behind his ear and to his temple, gifting him with mere seconds of tension before releasing him to sleep muddled confusion. Strange little pinpricks of forgotten pathways brushed against the soles of his feet, tempting his knees half an inch towards the solace of his bare chest, and the base of his throat shuddered in an abrupt fashion.
He felt an involuntary huff escape past his lips as he burrowed further into his pillow’s limp hold, his subconscious stubbornly clawing for the edges of slumber, attempting to pull it over this unordinary activity and subject it to meaningless happenstance. Exhaustion warred valiantly with curiosity and brimming concern, and Jason could feel his breathing begin to even out once more.
Then his heart lurched, a single brisk and unapologetic tug, and suddenly the mattress was too restricting and the duvet was too hot and oppressive and Jason was fighting them both, scrambling to an upright position, eyes wide, chest heaving. He blinked, taking in the familiar silhouettes of his cluttered bedroom floor and the grey scale projection of raindrops spattering against his window, a faraway street lamp casting their shadows on the wall, stretching them out and bringing them to new life. It was a gentle shower, too boisterous and consistent to be comfortably classified as a drizzle, and it orchestrated a quiet hum that barely managed to seep through the walls and insulation and capitalized on the stillness of the night.
Jason glanced down at his disturbed bed sheets, recent memory of frantic energy clashing unpleasantly with the current calm. His chest still echoed with that sudden pain, his ribs pressing together in apprehension as his heart picked up its initial thrumming cadence. The lingering bouts of adrenaline fizzled at the tips of his fingers, unused and collecting at the joints, causing his hands to fidget and twitch, if only slightly, and thoughtless gusts of wind roared between his ears as he tried to make sense of his sleep-tainted evidence.
With sudden clarity, he took note of the muscles in his back and shoulders, how they sat coiled and stiff, locked in the ready, prepared. The palms of his hands tingled with intent, purpose, and his feet were firmly stationed on his mattress, evenly spread apart, ready to support action. He was bodily wound up, posture and placement completely and inarguably defensive.
His phone buzzed. It was exceedingly loud in the subliminal quiet, clattering noisily against the wooden tabletop of his nightstand, and every pulse seemed all the more pressing.
Eyes squinting ever so slightly at the notably dim yet still incredibly bright source of light, Jason reached for the device, shoulders lilting to the side as he held his waking position. He felt locked into place, mild trepidation leaking into the crooks of his elbows and dripping down the length of his spine. But then he saw the caller ID, an obnoxious collection of yellow hearts and winking-tongue emojis crowding about the name, hovering over an equally carefree selfie of him and his teammate, the image blurred by their shared laughter, and all hesitation instantly vanished.
He couldn’t answer the phone quick enough, ear smarting as he practically slammed the device to his head. “Trini?” he asked, suddenly breathless. Had it been anything else–a frivolous thought, a comical screenshot, an off-the-wall tease–she would have sent a text. She knew full and well that whatever last minute request or sudden question she had would be viewed and met and answered in the morning. She knew no one on the team started their morning without checking in on the others, checking their phones. Calls were reserved for very specific and urgent situations, and had it been anyone else, he might have been able to relax, to properly breathe. But it wasn’t anyone else. This wasn’t just anyone else.
“Trin? You there?” he asked, free hand wrapping around his ankle and squeezing, anchoring the rest of him down.
He heard her take in a breath, it undeniably shaky and tremulous, before she responded. “Yeah.” Her voice was high pitched and fragile, a far shot from the usual slow and steady drawl he was accustomed to. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“What’s wrong, Trin?” he murmured, tone even and low, both warm in its approach and demanding in its search.
She sniffled, the start of a phrase cut off by a sudden gasp, one she immediately tried to swallow down.
Something wrapped around Jason’s heart and squeezed. “Are you still at your house?” he asked, a surplus of energy washing over him as he began to move, springing from his bed and feeling through the dark for a shirt.
She sputtered for half a beat before answering. “No. I couldn’t take it. I just got up and left and–” The rest of her sentence crumbled into a restrained sob, it meek and nearly shy but on all accounts pained.
“Tell me where you are, Trini,” he said, taking care to keep the cadence of his voice level as he plucked up the first piece of clothing with sleeves his hand touched, throwing it over his bare shoulder before reaching for his keys.
“I’m outside the Smiths’ general store,” she stuttered. “The one with the dingy checkerboard set up on the porch?”
Despite himself and the situation at hand, Jason breathed a laugh. “Yeah, I know the one.” He toed on his sneakers, not bothering to lace them up as he left his quiet room and unmade bed behind, shoving an arm through the russet hoodie as he swiftly and soundlessly made his way down the hall to the front door, one ear tuned for any stirring movement in the other two occupied rooms of the house as the opposite tracked the audible stumbling pace of Trini’s breath. “I’m on my way, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
She laughed, it feeble and wet but still a laugh. “Hadn’t exactly planned to.”
Jason snorted, tugging his sweatshirt over his head and completely on before flicking up the hood, resettling the phone by his ear. “And I’m sure you hadn’t planned to end up on the steps of a mom and pop store at half past ass in the morning, and yet...”
She breathed out a sigh, it not as heavy or frail as the first. “Got me there.”
Rain splattered against the cloth of his hoodie with jovial delight, staining the shoulders and back with dark crimson flecks as he quickly made his way to his weathered truck. “See you in less than ten, alright Trin?” he said, clambering into the driver’s seat and twisting the key into the ignition before even shutting the door, flicking his hood back.
Her response was soft, arguably timid, but he heard it all the same. “Alright.”
The gravel under his tires crunched and shifted with monotonous synchrony, forming a solid front of sound against the steady pattering of rain, just a hair louder with its advantageous proximity, all the more impactful with its dusty fade to silence. For the last handful of minutes, Jason had been puttering down damp strips of asphalt, slippery and reflecting every still lit storefront and stalled traffic light. The streets were deserted, the little business district of the town asleep, and despite the occasional crack in the road or newly developing pothole, the ride was smooth and seamless. Maybe that’s why the sudden cacophony of gravel was so noteworthy. The Smiths’ had their own quaint version of a parking lot, sure, it square with fading lines of white paint and yellow slabs to act as guides, and it had carried him with uniform grace all the way to the simple drive that led to the steps, but then he had caught sight of Trini, sleeves tugged over her hands, coveted beanie pulled low over her ears, and his right hand tires had ended up in the decorative grey gravel, no longer a buffer between weathered concrete and wooden porch. The way time had blurred, it was a miracle Jason had managed to find the brakes.
He leaned over, giving the plastic crank a few quick spins and banishing the rickety pane of glass he called a window into the depths. Rain water began to drip in near instantly, unable to resume the ambiguously straight pathways of its predecessors, now forced to either curve about the rounded portal’s outline or leap to a splintering rebirth. A few drops managed to actually get past the door, speckling across his dashboard and seeping into the worn cloth of his passenger seat, but it was hardly a bother, not even a thought, those dark brown eyes staring back at him from beneath the leaky awning captivating his true concern.
They stared at each other for a beat and a half, the late night shower and the simmering engine buffeting against their personal silence. Trini had yet to move from her spot, folded arms stone-like against the dripping railing, shoulders shielding her already hidden ears, thumb twisting at the bronze band sat around her ring finger with a barely contained franticness. The night made the shadows across her face seem darker, and the steadily falling rain made the scene before him all the more distressing.
Jason brushed at the mottled wheel with his thumb, head tilting slightly. “Fancy seeing you here,” he called out, the words hand painted and light as they floated in the misty breeze.
The corner of Trini’s mouth twitched, and she ducked her head, brushing the cuff of her sweater across her nose as she did. “You’re a riot, Red,” she tossed back, voice muffled and tone uneven, but she straightened, and Jason grinned, granting himself the briefest moment to let his ever growing bounty of pride for his team unfurl in his chest as she made her way down the tired stairs.
Tiny splashes rose just over the gentle wash of rain, faded yellow converse disturbing the film of water collecting along the drive with every step until their owner descended upon the gravel, and then the subtle murmur of shifting rocks bled into the air up until Trini reached the door, tugging it open with a muted creak. “If I had been told three months ago that the Jason Scott was capable of such cheesiness,” she said as she fell into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her with a solid slam before fiddling with the seat belt, “I know I wouldn’t have believed it, but I’m not sure how I would’ve reacted.”
His ears pricked at the familiar sound of teasing hovering shyly around the surface of her words, but Jason scoffed all the same, tongue probing at the inner corner of his lip as he tossed a glance out into the rainy night. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Trini only hummed in response, folding up in the seat beside him as she tracked the shadowy beyond, one knee up and pulled into her chest, chin balancing atop it. Her arms settled about her ankle, fingers plucking at her covered hands, and she closed her eyes for half a moment, taking in a deep breath through her nose. Her brow twitched.
Jason had yet to change gears, engine rumbling on as he watched the girl beside him, brain picking apart every warped and shifted detail, cataloguing the new, surveying the already known. Her tight shoulders echoed with the crackling of dry kindling under flames, and her unfixed gaze brought with it the spritely winds of the mountain, but the quiet was new, so unlike her but not. A relic of the past, dusted off and presented, as if the performance had the same effect, as if the replication could captivate and distract a knowing crowd. It was an outgrown t-shirt, a pair of battered shoes, the toes frayed and the soles parting from their seams. If he had seen this Trini three months ago, he wouldn’t have batted an eye. In fact, he probably hadn’t.
He reached over, movements slow, detectable, and his fingers brushed at the edge of her beanie, giving the knitted hem the slightest of tugs. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, Ri?” he murmured, touch lingering at the curve of her ear, the pad of his thumb following the downward slope as he pulled away, hand falling back behind the headrest of the seat.
Trini’s brow dipped, her lips jumping in a wry sort of smile for a moment before she spoke. “You’re just full of clichés tonight, huh Jay?” Her words caught on an invisible nail, ripping the back half of her sentence in two, tearing a sliver in her carefully measured tone, leaving behind a gaping wound, a sizeable crack. Her throat jumped, and she tilted her head away from him, bringing her arms up to her chest and folding them in a half-made heap.
Jason felt his heart stutter. “Trini–”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, words thick with dammed up reserves of emotion.
The air sizzled for the briefest moment with something akin to tension, but it was smoke and ash long before it could truly stake any claim. A sharp buzz filled the quiet, followed by a triplet of similar chirps. Jason glanced down, a patch of light igniting the cracked walls of the console’s cup holders, bars of notifications flooding the screen. Tilting his phone back with his thumb, the boy eyed the messages with muted interest, another jolt of affection speeding through his veins at the true enigma that was his team.
Scooping up the device, Jason began crafting responses for the most pressing concerns first, tapping away at the screen as he spoke. “That won’t work for too much longer, Ri,” he said, words resonating with gentle honesty. He heard her shift in her seat, pressing closer to the door as if she was genuinely contemplating crawling out of the window. With a final tap of the thumb, he locked his phone, letting the device fall back clumsily into its plastic container before reaching for the gear shift, pulling the truck into reverse but keeping his foot on the brake. He once again turned towards her, upper body tilted just a hair, eyes searching for her gaze but not demanding it. “It’ll be just us, okay? Just us.” Rain continued to patter about them, the steady drone light and consistent, enveloping them, the car, the silence in a kind embrace, acting as a barrier against everything else. “Nothing bad has ever come from just us, and that’s not going to change tonight or anytime soon.” Trini swallowed, and he watched as her expression crumbled, every line of her face reflecting unspoken turmoil. “It’s just us, Trini,” Jason whispered. “It’ll just be us.”
For a moment and a half, his words echoed in the space between them, highlighting their quiet and the weather outside. Then she nodded, slow and slight, and Jason felt his shoulders relax, half the battle already won. Without another word, he turned in his seat, hands falling comfortably on the wheel as he eased away from the porch, his movements all the more careful as he became fully aware of how awkward a position he had been in. The parking lot ended at the gravel for a reason.
The old truck made the transition gallantly enough, the jostle only slight in its unavoidability, synthesizing just enough force to knock one of Trini’s knees into the other. Rain washed streets made the asphalt sleek and the ride smooth, the damp black of the tires melting into pathways stitched with midnight. The weather had slackened the barest inch from its already serene state, and the silence surrounding them had settled, painted with easy and familiar colors of the night.
Jason tapped at the lever on the opposite side of the steering wheel, the window wipers taking a breath before continuing their work at a more relaxed pace as they came to a four way stop, the box of traffic lights glowing gold on all sides.
The passenger seat creaked as its occupant shifted, and Jason spared Trini a glance as the girl turned toward him, shoulder burrowing into the frayed back, temple pressing into the curving slope beneath the head rest. Their eyes locked for half a moment, and then she glanced off to her right.
Jason followed, gaze settling on the series of knobs and buttons inlaid into the front of his hand-me-down truck, brain finally detecting the shy question in those brown eyes as he surveyed the slumbering radio. He nodded toward it. “Be my guest.”
Trini didn’t move immediately, her fellow ranger passing the weight of his foot from the brake to the gas, continuing their predawn journey on Angel Grove’s empty streets. She sat up slightly as they approached the next cross section, one arm reaching out and giving the right hand dial a quiet jab. The rectangular screen flickered to life, block numbers appearing with no introduction as faded blue light washed over them, crowding out the dark. Faint murmuring joined them, their welcome undergoing a slight crescendo before abruptly cutting off as Trini began fiddling with the knobs and pushing at the buttons. The corner of Jason’s mouth ticked up into a smirk.
Hiking up the volume just a hair, Trini sat back, her spine now parallel with the back of the seat, knees still pulled to her chest but focus now forward. The song instantly replaced the silence, flowing into dark corners and teeming out of shadowy crevices. It was a cohesive mass of oddball sounds, trickling chimes and confident snaps bundled up with an offbeat pulse and a sun baked voice. It followed the curve of the wheel as Jason made a turn with drowsy ease, and every breath in felt more drawn out and appreciated.
“Picking up our resident genius first, I see,” Trini hummed as they made another corner, a sea of picket fences and square houses rising up on either side.
Jason laughed a silent laugh, slowing the truck to a stop right in front of the familiar drive, the front porch stoic and dark as it presided over the potted rose bushes manning their mirrored stations. “Naturally,” he replied, hands falling away from the steering wheel, the tips of his index and middle finger hanging off the bottom lip in comfortable stillness. They didn’t have to wait long, a handful of breaths passing between them before the door opened, Billy shutting it behind him and giving the knob a testy shake before descending down the brick steps, the lapels of his navy robe fluttering against the forced friction of his brisk pace.
“It’s the legend himself,” Jason greeted with a grin, elbow occupying the space where the window had been less than a minute prior, fist outstretched to the approaching figure.
Billy ducked his head with a bashful smile, tapping his knuckles against Jason’s before his gaze flickered to Trini. “Hey, Ri,” he said, voice low and warm with the fading grasp of sleep and the surrounding night.
Trini’s smile fumbled to her lips. “Hey, Blue.”
Jason’s grin relaxed into something softer. “C’mon, man, we still have two sleepy rangers to collect.” Billy snorted, clamoring into the back seat without a single bit of hesitation as Trini shook her head. The late night shower had thinned into an early morning drizzle, and Jason knocked the wipers’ lever down one more speed as he pulled off from the curb.
“You start that history assignment yet?” Trini asked, words fluttering over her shoulder even as she continued to survey the smudged outer world. The mellow rhythms of the initial song had faded away, making room for purposeful drums accented by vibrant strings and powerful vocals.
Billy’s lips parted, his eyes flitting up to meet Jason’s in the rearview mirror before he responded. “I finished it yesterday.”
Both Trini and Jason groaned immediately. “C’mon, B, we literally have until next Friday,” Trini nearly whined, resting her foot on the dashboard as she crossed her arms with a huff.
“I’d rather be doing something else by then,” he said matter-of-factly, but they could both hear the amusement in his tone.
“Nothing with explosives, please,” Jason said pointedly as he made a left, the road crackling slightly as the tires shifted.
The silence in the back seat was palpable.
Jason sighed. “Billy.”
Trini laughed, it full-blooded and careless, and Jason felt another knot undo itself in his stomach, muscles in his back loosening further. “Go ‘head, B,” she snickered, reaching a hand back to her teammate with familiar ease. Billy shot a sheepish smile towards the driver’s seat but high-fived her all the same. Jason shook his head.
Kim was waiting at the curb when they arrived at her house, short hair fanning over her face as she ruffled through the tote bag resting against her hip. Jason slowed to a halt right beside her, hazel eyes glittering with mischief. “And to your left we have some delinquent probably up to no good as we speak,” he called out, a smirk solidly fixed upon his lips even as her gaze sharpened.
“Speaking from experience again, I see,” she tossed back effortlessly, the corner of her mouth twitching as the other passengers in the car made raucous sounds of approval. Jason only smiled, and she returned it with gentle kindness before lifting the strap at her shoulder with her thumb. “I’ve got snacks. Thought we should do this right.”
“You’re a saint,” Trini said emphatically, flashing a brief but steady smile.
Kimberly arched a brow, stepping down from the sidewalk as she intercepted the opening car door, her own smile intact, eyes alight with gentle teasing. “Hungry?”
Trini only grinned. “Starving.”
Zack had assumed a position similar to Kim, the ranger off on the far side of his residency, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the pillows tucked under his arms the only company present to wait with him. When the truck eased to a stop beside him, he leaned in, pressing his hip into the side of the door as Jason arched a brow. “So,” he drawled, eyes glittering with mirth, “you come here often?” Trini groaned.
Jason wrestled down a flat expression, amusement bubbling in his chest. “I honestly try to avoid it.”
“Well you’re doing a lousy job,” Zack tsked, grin making a reappearance as Jason shook his head.
“Get in the damn truck.”
“What’s with the pillows?” Kim asked from the other side of the vehicle as her teammate shut the door behind him and they shot off into the night once more.
Zack tossed her a smile, it a calmer rendition of the ones prior, more thoughtful and serene. “I’m in it for the long haul, baby,” he said before offering the spare to Trini. “For my favorite crazy girl.” His words were light, just outside of question territory, placing all the cards in his teammate’s hands.
Jason watched as she accepted the pillow, shadows flickering across her face as the corners of her mouth twitched. The dark sky above rolled with a distant echo of thunder despite the drying night, and the techno infused babble emanating from the speakers seemed just out of reach.
Quiet descended on the car for a handful of moments, then Zack leaned back, shoulders brushing against Billy’s as he propped an elbow up on the door. “How much gas you got, Red?”
Jason’s eyes flitted down to the gauge, lips twitching in consideration as he answered, “Just over half a tank.”
The boy grinned, that expression so consistently present, so carefully maintained, so resilient, brilliant, it made Jason’s heart teem with affectionate admiration. “We can go basically anywhere with that!”
Kimberly huffed a startled laugh as Billy’s brow furrowed. “I’d have to disagree on that,” he intoned carefully, earning a fond smile from the boy on his right.
“C’mon, B! We have endless possibilities right now!” he pressed, shifting his pillow so it sat in equilibrium between them.
“Half a tank could only bring a vehicle of this nature in this condition eighty-three miles at best,” Billy said, one hand gripping the edge of the bedding while the other fiddled with its cover.
Zack’s eyes glittered like youthful stars. “That’s eighty-three miles in any direction we choose!”
Kim blindly reached into her tote, throwing a package of cookies at the grinning ranger’s chest. It crinkled helplessly as it tumbled into his lap. “Eat these and shut up.”
He laughed as he tore into the plastic, holding the now accessible treats out to Billy as he took two himself. “I can only promise to comply to the first part.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Jason said, tone contrasting his statement with its weightless cheer.
Kim ripped open a bag of chips. “Incredibly.”
Quiet resettled for a smattering of seconds, but it was once again displaced by a fluttering sigh. Trini turned toward the driver’s expectant gaze, her head tilted back against the car seat, face pinched and eyes tired. “Where are we going, Jason?”
Any shifting motion or general activity from the back seat dimmed, and Jason gave the steering wheel what he hoped to be a discreet squeeze. “Got any suggestions?” he asked in response, voice melding into the new stillness, accommodating and adjusting. She only stared back, her fingers twisting at the pillow in her lap, her shoulders rising with a lengthy breath. Jason tilted his head out to the all the more present and crowding night. “Then you’ll see when we get there.”
Conversation slowly picked up, it hushed and frivolous but a strong defender against complete silence, supporting the efforts of the radio and its current upbeat assailants with exemplary skill. The prior atmosphere returned, it apt but not exactly steady, the dust of its collapse clinging to the space around them, lengthening pauses between spoken word and dampening laughter with less jovial emotion. The sky crackled overhead, bruised clouds bulging and the white glow of far-off lightning pulsing to life with every muted crash and thunderous growl. The air was crowded with something more–increased amounts of energy, high levels of electricity, an abundance of thought–both outside the car and in it.
Jason guided his truck and his team forward, headlights sweeping over rundown duplexes and cracked sidewalks as they got further and further away from the center of their portside city. He felt detached yet reconnected, nerves directed at points rarely paid mind to, cognitive spaces rendered to primitive static. His hands guided the steering wheel with an independent sense of judgement, and his vision felt ever so slightly out of focus. And despite this disjointed state of being, this not completely tuned in state, Jason felt in control. His breathing was even, his shoulders relaxed, and his heart completely at the helm, a realization that settled over him when he took note of Trini’s brief intake of breath at where they had stopped rather than the actual destination itself.
He felt the weight of a hand at the corner of the driver’s seat, and Jason turned, meeting Zack halfway, their eyes connecting in the fractured dark. Zack smiled, it faint but undeniable, and he tilted his head toward the rocky terrain and patchy undergrowth of the great beyond. “Nice choice,” he said, voice light but hardly hushed. “Not like we’re here enough, but can’t go wrong with Old Faithful.”
“Old Faithful is a geyser, not a mountain,” Kimberly said, face twisting as the two shifted their focus to her.
Zack’s smile evolved into a smirk, the transformation seamless and easy. “Same thing.”
Billy arched a brow. “Hardly.”
Zack breathed out a laugh before falling back into his seat with a resonating thump. “Well, engine's still going, Red. You gonna run this thing up the mountain or what?”
Jason cut the engine in response.
Zack pouted, his frown deepening at Billy’s snort.
They were parked at the cusp of an incline, the ground tilted at the barest of angles; it was the beginning of a towering ascent, the whispers of thought before the spark of an idea, the slight breeze before a torrential storm. The mountain rose before them with its characteristic might, stature unmatched and incomparable for thousands of miles around. Its woody foothills watched them silently, dark masses of trees tilting in the stirring wind, leaves clattering together haphazardly as they manned their posts with unending discipline. Jason glanced over at Trini, and he finally identified that expression shining through restraint, those brown eyes wide, those lips folded in on themselves, those fingers tangled in the inner fabric of her jacket. Lightning flashed once more, this time visible and in front of the cloud cover, an advanced extension of roots bleeding into branches and blinding in its intensity, and its split second performance allowed for him to see her creased brow, her tremulous inhale, her unfocused gaze.
She was afraid.
She was wholly and completely and undeniably afraid.
She was miles beyond scared and firmly residing in terrified, and Jason had no clue as to why.
But he was going to find out.
“Put your feet on your seat, Kim,” he called back, tearing his eyes away from his curled up teammate to the roof of his truck, fingers flicking the switch of the overhead light, artificial yellow rays washing over the passengers with abrupt yet gentle courtesy. “You too, Zack.”
Zack nudged Billy, grin even more brilliant when visible, his arms wrapped snugly about his knees, legs crossed at the ankle. He was only wearing socks. “Want in on this action, B?”
Billy didn’t even blink. “I’m good, thanks.”
Jason reached down into the crevice between the door and his seat, elbow jerking slightly as he yanked up, and soon the back of his chair was falling away, its descent slow but even. “You can take off the headrest and pass it to me,” he said, holding his hand outstretched with expectant patience as Kimberly did just that, and soon the block of fabric was hidden away in the shadows beside the brakes.
Jason tossed a look to Trini, the girl watching his actions with silent curiosity. “C’mon, Trin, get with the program,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards as he reached down, pulling at another concealed lever beneath the seat and walking his chair forward, the steering wheel digging into his thighs before he wiggled his legs free. He twisted around, gaze naturally sliding over to Trini as he settled, back pressed into the weathered bottom lip, front facing his team, and they all watched as the yellow ranger began to move, actions slow and unsure but consistent, and soon she too was facing the back row of seats and the people in them.
Trini sat stock still, knees squeezing the pillow, packing it further against her stomach. Her arms remained crossed, hands digging into her elbows and holding tight. Eyes flickered about in fizzling silence, and wind buffeted against the roof, pawing at the truck as it rolled by.
“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten rain like this,” Kim hummed suddenly, her words like a bolt of lightning close offshore from their island of light, a tumbling stream of thought that managed to catch its footing and stand, beating the surrounding darkness back a hair. They looked around, watching each other watch the outside, eyes taking note of the slanting pitch of the night.
“Well it had to happen eventually,” Billy interjected, twisting in his seat toward Kim, mirroring her own movements, and soon the two were slightly turned into each other, Kimberly upright and attentive, her shoulder pressed into the faded cloth, Billy bent slightly forward, wrists turned and palms up. “Angel Grove is directly in between a mountain and the ocean. So you have both the air currents and the sun working to make these rain clouds, these storms.”
“Two for the price of one?” Zack asked with a quirk of his lips.
Billy looked over his shoulder, nodding emphatically. “Exactly!” he agreed, the exclamation buzzing with such genuine emotion, Zack’s expression melting into something fond.
Thunder erupted overhead, a capital shockwave of sound that crashed to the earth below, so momentous a sensation that the energy traveled through the vehicle and made the windows quake. Everyone started to some degree, wide eyes turning to windows, bodies flinching, backs pressing further into seats.
“Can’t imagine how anyone’s asleep with that going on right above them,” Kim huffed, folding her arms to her chest as she shot one more tentative look outside, only rushing streams of rainwater truly visible with the encompassing black.
“Can’t imagine how anyone’s asleep at all.”
The words were bitter, withheld, but they lingered in the belly of the truck, focusing the storm’s energy further inward, the air concaving on itself, an impending avalanche of something heavy. Every gaze was turned to the speaker, to Trini, to her hunched shoulders and tired but glittering eyes, to her curled lip and furrowed brow, to her twitching hands, her listless fingers, to the storm raging a pathway across her face.
“What?” she nearly spat, jumping from one set of eyes to the next. “How are so many people able to sleep? Through this night, through any night. It makes no damn sense.” Trini pulled her crossed arms closer to her chest, tugging the pillow along with them as she stared at the scuffed tips of her sneakers, forehead crinkled, eyelashes casting dark shadows across her cheeks. “This world is so big. Almost too big,” she said with a puff of laughter, it barely there and crackling to nothing in the air. And then her voice condensed, words piling on top of each other, and her eyes flitted about for half a moment. “Big enough for so much fucked up shit...”
Jason couldn’t move, couldn’t really breathe; almost every ounce of his energy was centered on Trini, and what was left over was keeping watch over the rest of his team. Kim sat stock still, her legs crossed, head tilted back but eyes forward, hands residing in her lap, the left one boneless as the right gripped its opposite’s wrist, brown knuckles paling at the force being used to squeeze. Billy watched on silently, brow troubled and eyes shining, completely enraptured and undoubtedly concerned. Zack had shifted, his legs stretched over the reclined seat, knees bent and kept bent by the displaced car. He was leaning forward, stomach hovering above thighs, his left hand gripping the back of his right, expression void of any emotions sans the slight tug at the corners of his mouth and the barest squint of his eyes.
“People die every single day,” Trini mumbled, suddenly motionless, her gaze having yet to leave her feet. Jason glanced over to Kimberly, their eyes meeting, reflecting something raw and helpless back at one another. “People get into wrecks, guns go off, natural disasters, illnesses.” Zack closed his eyes for less than a second. “Young girls get dragged down alleyways, young boys get felt up by old fucks, and no one is awake to give a damn.”
Trini tilted her head, jaw jutting out as she considered the spot on her shoe where her attention was tethered. “Can’t expect people to stay awake forever, but doesn’t hurt to try and be the exception, huh?” she muttered, lips trembling into a dampened smirk.
“You haven’t been sleeping?” Billy asked, voice quiet, words carefully placed but frantically constructed, a pained lightness hushing their delivery even further.
Trini shrugged.
“You can’t just not sleep, Ri, you need rest,” Kim pressed, her approach gentle but not lacking her coveted presence.
“Try telling my brain that,” Trini said, head finally up, words drenched in sarcasm, a misdirected stab in the dark. She smiled, a small smile that might have passed for steady had her eyes not glittered with locked away grief above it. “I stay awake as long as I can because I know the minute I fall asleep I will have to see her face.” The rain poured on, maintaining a pounding cadence that somehow felt thousands of miles away as a single tear slowly slithered across the curve of Trini’s cheek, tracing the line of her jaw before dropping off her chin. “I’ll have to feel her hand around my neck, hear her voice in my ears. She’ll be back in my room, looking at me with those eyes,” she sputtered, face growing damp and breathing becoming erratic. She hugged herself impossibly tight. “If I fall asleep, Rita wakes me up.”
It ignited then, a swatch of kindling steady smoking before finally burning to life. It was a low, familiar heat, one that Jason had definitely experienced in the past, but this present one was a different brand of fire than what he once knew, a more recent rendition of its older self. This flame was just as vicious, just as deadly, just as calculating and precise, but it danced to new music, sparking with a bit more control and spreading with a more focused hunger.
“I can’t let go of that night. As much as I fucking try to forget, it always comes back,” Trini gasped, the transition from crying to sobs imminent. “And I don’t think it’s really what happened that keeps it in my head,” she said with a swallow, her hands spread and fingers trembling. “Rita broke in to my room and slammed me against my wall. My brothers were asleep on the other side.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Down the hall to the left are my parents. No one woke up, no one checked on me. Everyone saw what she left behind; I was the only one to see what happened. And I’m not saying I wanted them to see that. I can’t imagine what would have happened had they seen that,” she whispered, words crackling and frail. “It’s just…had she gone for someone else, my brothers, my dad, even my mom–had she went after anyone else…” Her voice fell away for a moment, tears collecting in her throat, face crumbling as she struggled to breathe. Her teammates sat around her, completely still, completely silent, all attention on their yellow ranger, on the words she’d say next. Trini opened her eyes, and beneath the too obvious exhaustion and fear was a shining star of pain. “Had she gone after anyone else, I’m scared I would’ve slept through it, too.”
The fire grew into an inferno.
Everyone began talking at once, cries of outrage and soothing remarks rendered unintelligible due to their synchrony, a feat Jason normally observed with exasperated warmth or a humorous gaze but could only see as an unnecessary bringer of confusion, one that blew those teary brown eyes wide.
“Guys!” he snapped, and silence returned with instantaneous speed, lips still parted but no words being spoken. Jason turned to Trini, his entire body facing her way, an indescribable need to be close tugging him forward but her tense shoulders and huddled up form keeping him back. He leaned forward, shin pressing into the console between them, eyes soft as they met hers. “C’mon, Trin, deep breaths. Try and relax, alright? Relax.”
Trini nodded, closing her eyes and scrubbing at the left side of her face with the cuff of her flannel, the covered heel of her hand sweeping along her cheek, her languid movements slowing further when Jason reached over and did the same on her right with the pad of his thumb. Their individual gazes melded in to one, and Jason attempted a small smile. “It’s just us.”
And in her own unique way, in that completely Trini way that Jason had come to love, he watched her rise from yet another fall, brush off another rude remark, shoulder the weight of a hundred eyes, and she smiled, it soft and shy but resilient.
“You know what nightmares actually are?” Kim asked, earning the car’s attention. The storm was once again ebbing, gliding from torrential levels to simply persistent. “We learned about it in psych last semester. They’re the neurons in your brain shooting signals back and forth, trying to work through whatever’s going on in that thick skull of yours,” she said with a teasing smile, Trini wrinkling her nose in response as the rest of the team snickered. “They’re incredibly emotional by nature, and the fact that this is reoccurring means Rita’s on your mind more than necessary.”
“Any of her at all is more than necessary,” Billy pointed out, his brow furrowing and lip curling at the thought. Trini grinned, ducking her head a bit as she did so, and everyone else couldn’t help but smile, too.
“Besides, you don’t have to worry about her anymore,” Zack said, tilting his head toward Jason as he continued, a smirk settling on his lips. “Let us not forget the patented Jason Scott Bitch Slap that sent that wannabe to infinity and beyond.”
Billy nodded, shooting a smile Jason’s way as he did, their leader arching a brow, before turning back to Trini, delivering a shrug. “Can’t do much against the cold vacuum of space.” Zack grinned, bumping his shoulder against Billy’s as he did, earning a gentler bump in return.
“Probably feels right at home,” Kimberly said, sharing a smile with Trini, eyes sparkling with mirth.
Billy tilted his head, brows knitting together for half a beat. “Well, more than likely she’s dead.”
Jason hummed, the flames twisting and twining within as he earned his team’s eyes on him. He gave his wrist a squeeze. “Even better.” He turned to Trini, and once more their eyes connected, her furrowed brow picking apart his cool expression and unblinking gaze. It washed over them both, a wave of understanding that settled in its designated place once more, pushing down hunched up shoulders and setting each breath at a slow and even pace. It was a familiar click, one tempering the hearth in Jason’s chest while also stoking the flame in the person opposite to him. Like a hand finding another in the dark, the grip firm and everlasting, no plans of separation lingering over the potential of tomorrow. The corners of Trini’s mouth quirked up just a hair, and Jason responded with a twitch of the lips and nothing more. Nothing else was needed.
“I get what you’re going through, though,” Billy piped up, and once again worry and concern crowded the atmosphere, it the same intensity but tuned at a different frequency. Billy was shaking his head near immediately, fingers splaying as he held his hands up. “I mean, not to take away from your own experiences at all!” he said, brow pinched in consternation as he locked eyes with Trini. “And I don’t really have those dreams anymore. Can’t remember the last time I did.” He froze for half a second before wincing. “Well, yeah, I can, but two months and seventeen days is a long time!”
Trini shook her head, a minute back and forth that didn’t shift her focus on her teammate in the slightest. Her grip on her pillow was vice-like. “What did you dream about, Billy?”
He shrugged, it light, careless, and his lips twitched, a haphazard tumble from a smile to something less than. “Drowning.”
Trini felt her heart jolt at the word, snapshots from that portion of the night on the docks flitting through her mind faster than she could truly pay them any attention, but the emotion they brought with them was breathtaking, a powerful wind acting as a hurricane’s processional, just as unavoidable and just as damaging. Zack looked severely uncomfortable; Kimberly’s eyes shined with resurrected pain. Jason’s face had crumbled, Trini dazedly imagining a single pebble on a precarious pile of stone, the rubble shifting in consequence.
“Sometimes Rita was there, most times she wasn’t,” Billy continued, voice a hair softer. “It was the struggle that was consistent. Every night I had that dream, it was the last thing I would experience, which makes sense, really. All that rope just…pulled me down. I’d wake up gasping for air just like I did in the ship.” He smiled then, it small, self-conscious, shy. “Thought you guys would be there once or twice.”
“Billy…” Jason said, voice broken, hushed, as Kim fisted her hand in the flopping excess of her teammate’s robe, scooting as close as she dared, eyes teary and forehead creased.
“It was just a memory on a loop,” Billy continued, glancing at the girl beside him and gifting her with a gentle smile, his expression easy and honest. “I just had to keep reminding myself it was left in the past. It wasn’t really happening again, no matter how much it felt like it was.”
“That’s the crazy thing about nightmares, though,” Zack said with a huff, leaning further onto his knees, hands locked about his ankles, chest a breath away from being flush against his thighs, smirk faint. “They feel so fucking real. They aren’t, but for a moment you think they are, and then you wake up believing they could actually be.” He paused, a split second of hesitation so unlike Zack that it made Jason want to scream. The thought that three months ago he wouldn’t have even given a damn made him want to go hoarse. But then Zack’s gaze flickered up, eyes meeting Jason’s before connecting with Trini’s. “Pretty much all my nightmares are about my mom.” He pursed his lips, stare going unfocused before snapping back to clarity. “I wake up–meta, I know–or come home from school, from a late night out, and I check on her, and she’s not breathing. Sometimes she’s just gone. And yeah, there’s a chance of that happening, sure,” he admitted, words turning bitter and sour, dripping with undeniable grief. But then he tilted his head, dark eyes growing soft as he tracked the silent tears rolling down Trini’s face, and he smiled his patent smile, confident and cocky and Zack Taylor without a doubt. “But you want to know how I know it’s just a dream?”
Trini only nodded.
Zack’s closed-lip smile broke out in to a grin, and it felt like a preview of the morning’s later hours, of the sun bursting over the horizon and driving the storm clouds away. “My mom would never leave me without saying goodbye.” He shook his head with the breath of a laugh. “She promised me she wouldn’t, and my mom’s a woman of her word. I trust her. You gotta trust what you know, T, that’s how you shake this kinda shit. Trust what you know.”
Trini blinked, lips parted and twitching but words delayed, stumbling out of her on newborn legs as she said, “You make it sound so easy.”
“I don’t remember us saying it was, though,” Zack said pointedly, tossing a glance over his shoulder at Billy. “Did I say that?”
“No,” he answered, mouth quivering as he fought back a smile.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“See?” Zack said, drawing out the word as he leant forward the final inch, snaking his head back and forth as he did so.
“They aren’t wrong, Ri,” Kim added, words gentle and soft, but by the way Trini flinched back–a contained jerk of her brow, a slight squint of her eye, a tiny press of her mouth–an outsider could have mistaken it for barbed wire. Kimberly tilted her head, confusion and concern mottling her features as she tossed a silent question Jason’s way, mouth open but words stalled in caution.
And suddenly dozens of images Jason hadn’t realized fit together appeared identical, a pattern sprawled over a late night and a rainy drive. Every shaky expression, every stuttered reaction, it now had a common thread stitching each haphazard piece together. In a subconscious collection of evidence, notes taken he hadn’t remembered writing and details tucked away he hadn’t remembered paying attention to, the true cause of such misfit action had finally come to light, and it pushed him over the edge. All Jason could see was red.
“Do not let her take that name away from you,” he said lowly, practically glaring at Trini. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged the pillow tighter than ever before. Jason shook his head. “You love it when we call you that, do not let her take it away.”
“I won’t, I’m not, I just–” Her words broke off, a shuddering breath stealing her thoughts as tears streaked down her face. She shook her head, the motion a heartbreaking form of helpless. “I’m just so tired .”
Jason took his own breath, closing his eyes, willing the fire down. Though the intention didn’t exist, he wasn’t going to let someone he loved get burned. Not again. “ Amarilla ,” he said, the word clear, pronounced with meticulous care and undeniable confidence, no signs of past stumbles or the fond laughter it produced. “Look at me. Please.”
Trini sucked in a breath, the heel of her hand pressing hard against the crown of her forehead, a pair of tears dripping off the tip of her nose, but she turned her head, slowly, throat jumping in the efforts to be quiet, and she opened her eyes.
“When your brothers are raving over their favorite superhero, and they get so excited they can’t help but speak ninety miles an hour, what is the name they use for you?” he asked, summoning the tiniest of smiles on Trini’s tear-stained lips. “You light up when they call you that. It’s so you, it’s so all of you, there’s nothing that fits better. It’s your name, Ri.” The corners of his mouth ticked up, and he tried to convey every ounce of emotion he had welling up and nearly overflowing in his chest with a single look. “Don’t let her take that from you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes once again picking him apart as her mind reassessed every word he’d said. She took a breath, and he took it with her, and when she nodded, slow and sure, her eyes twinkling with so simple but so precious a jewel as trust, he exhaled with a sigh that bled into a laugh, a huff of air tugging with it a grin dazzling with pride.
“So now what?” she whispered, words turned soft in the gentle quiet.
“Well, you did say you were tired,” Jason said, smile being pulled in one direction, nearing the title of a smirk but not exactly earning it. “Couldn’t think of a better place or better company to get a good night’s sleep with.”
Trini snorted, tossing an amused but fond glance out at the other passengers in the car, but soon she was nibbling at her lip, fingers plucking at the pillow in her lap.
“It’s okay to be scared, Ri,” Kim told her softly, gifting her with a tender smile, “but you have nothing to worry about. We’re here.”
“I know, but I have good reason to be apprehensive,” she pointed out, tone tinged with that familiar forcefulness and subversive flare.
“Nice word, but you think too much,” Zack said, earning a set of narrowed eyes his way. He only grinned. “How’s about turning on that radio again, Jay?”
Jason arched a brow. “You heard her, Taylor, she’s tired. And I know she’s not the only one.”
Zack snorted. “C’mon, in this day and age, who isn’t tired? The real question is: are you sleepy?”
“Isn’t that the same question?” Billy asked, forehead crinkling as he held up a finger halfway pointed toward Zack.
Kim sighed, face slack. “Typically.”
“You think any of us are truly ready for sleep? We’re all a little tense, let’s be honest,” Zack continued with an easy shrug and an easier smile. “C’mon. Music is the best medicine, and I think crazy girl has earned a little fun, don’t you?”
Jason locked eyes with his fellow ranger, reading around and between the lines, scanning the margins for the scatterbrained thoughts of his friend. It didn’t take long to find, wasn’t a difficult search in the slightest; Zack Taylor was the most unapologetically genuine person he knew. When his intentions finally clicked, a swift and easy locking into place, Jason shook his head before turning, gunning the engine and jabbing his thumb on the power button, a warm smile fixed on his face.
Zack whooped as the base loaded tempo flooded the previously quiet space, the steady tsking and crashing of the percussion section supporting the synthesized vocals, melding into a smooth concoction of character. Another singer introduced himself before carrying the piece, lyrics establishing their own cadence as they delivered an assortment of images on boastful, unruffled wings.
“How old is this song, again?” Kimberly asked with a laugh as she watched Zack bop his head to the beat, shoulders rolling and hands bouncing with careless zeal.
“I have no idea,” Trini said with a grin, twisting in her seat to crank the volume up a few more notches as the electronic chorus reappeared. “Think it’s almost done, though.”
“That’s a relief,” Jason said, eyes trained on Zack’s writhing motions. Billy laughed with unabashed glee, the song indeed fading away to the radio staple of a silent interlude.
Sudden pulses of sound quickly replaced it, the chords clear and easy before velvety vocals confidently strode alongside the beat. Trini perked up, Jason groaning as Zack cheered once more. “This song literally plays nonstop,” Jason moaned, though his theatrics were damped by the smile overtaking his face as the girl beside him began to sway with the rhythm.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Trini called out, snickering as Jason wrinkled his nose at her before returning to the music, falling back and allowing it to carry her forward. She mouthed the lyrics as she danced, singing along silently with seamless energy, her efforts only stalled by laughter, Zack mirroring her motions with heavy amounts of exaggeration, his tongue clamped between his teeth.
Jason shook his head, turning to Kim and letting out a near whine. “Not you, too,” he said, eyes crinkling as the other girl shrugged, continuing her bounce without remorse.
“You don’t always have to be a hard ass, Red,” she said with a teasing smile, joining the rest of her team as she burst in to laughter when said ranger’s mouth dropped open.
Jason’s brow rose. “You know who you’re talking to, right?”
“Those party animal stories aren’t officially true until I get evidence, and there’s no getting around that,” Zack said with a meaningful jab of his index finger.
Jason smirked, eyes glittering with mischief before he mouthed the next string of lyrics flawlessly. The car erupted in to shouts of shock and insurmountable glee.
The storm was a shadow of its former self, rain dripping from above as the remnants of the sky’s collection was wrung out one final time. The wind had died down to the typical brush of the mountainside, and night persisted as the hours between the present and the first glimpses of morning light diminished. Time passed as it always did, but in the truck, within the enclosed space of each other, the moment seemed endless. The music rolled through them, loosening muscles and encouraging ridiculous movements and effortless joy. Trini shared a grin with Kim, who transformed it in to a laugh for Billy, the two collapsing in on each other as Zack attempted a series of high notes.
“Oh, that’s horrendous,” Billy snickered as Zack’s voice cracked, the words splintering but the teen persistent, and his laughter doubled as Zack turned on him, slowly inching closer as his teammate backed up, off key singing now directed toward an unwilling recipient.
Jason couldn’t contain his complete adoration for his friends even if he tried, it bleeding through his grin, through the incredible ease that came with letting go, through the happiness that only grew at visible proof of its reflection in the others. He could only shrug when Trini shouted, “You’re such a sap!” over the music because he was too wrapped up in her own joy, it intact, undeniable, and somehow stronger than ever before, a feat he didn’t think possible. But Trini was a bundle of surprises wrapped in a clever little package topped off with a smirk. She was crash and powerful, teasing and slick, caring, loving, beautiful. She was a part of him just like he was a part of her, just like they all were parts of each other. And just like with everything else, they were ready to face the night together.
The transition from slumber to consciousness was slow, a drawn out step forward into a new semblance of reality. A chain reaction of catalysts and products, sensation returning to his shoulders, to his spine, trickling along every nerve ending with quiet speed. And as he returned to himself, Jason also returned to the world. The two processes bled together, a bird’s song spilling into his ear just as he took note of the barely comfortable position he was in, knees scrunched up to his chest and arms folded and tucked beneath his head. His eyes finally fluttered open, gaze bleary and narrow as he made sense of where he was.
Rose colored light filtered into the truck, washing over the worn cloth seats and the occupants of them. The passengers in the back were still asleep, Kim curled up neatly against Billy’s shoulder, her expression peaceful. Her support sat upright, his mouth agape, one arm slung over Zack’s back, said teen haphazardly sprawled across both of their laps, nose buried in his pillow, only one leg remaining on the seat. Jason felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards, a warm feeling of fondness settling over his shoulders as he watched them breathe as one, slow and deep and unbothered, the first rays of dawn settling over them cheerfully.
“Don’t worry, I’ve already got pictures.” Jason turned, meeting Trini’s smile. She was sitting up, legs crossed beneath her, pillow resting on top of them, bare toes peeking out with juvenile glee. She smirked, tossing a glance back at her sleeping teammates. “Might just set it as my background.”
Jason breathed a laugh, it sailing over his bicep as he glanced at the dozing pile before him. “Just don’t forget to send it to me.” Trini grinned, and Jason couldn’t help but return the expression in kind.
“Sleep okay?” he asked, propping his head up in his hand, elbow digging into the seat.
Trini shrugged, her smile still intact but smaller, slighter. “I still had the nightmare.” Jason sat up straighter, brow creasing and lips parting to speak but Trini’s upheld hand freezing him in place. “I still had the nightmare,” she repeated, tilting her head a bit as she did, “but when I woke up, and I saw all of you, I remembered it was just a dream of one shitty night.” She huffed a laugh, slightly tousled hair brushing against her shoulders as she shook her head before lifting her eyes to meet his. “I remembered we won. And after realizing that, it was easier to go back to sleep.”
“And when you went back to sleep?” he asked, mild trepidation supporting his words.
Trini simply smiled, it just another wonderful thing captured under the morning light. “I got the rest I needed.”
Jason grinned, the final knot lingering in his stomach coming undone, the hearth quiet and cool. And then he smirked, eyes gleaming with intent as his eyebrows jumped in thought. “So what I’m hearing is sleepovers should be a regular thing.”
Trini snorted, covering her mouth with her hand as she shot a mindful glance at the still sleeping teenagers in the back seat. “You are such a dork.”
“You didn’t say no.”
And their eyes locked for half a moment before they collapsed into laughter, shoulders bouncing and faces pinching as they tried to keep quiet, Trini pressing the tips of her fingers to his forehead and giving him a gentle shove. The sky was completely flush with pink, a smattering of clouds appearing near stationary, the stillness of the mountain side capturing them in its presence. Singular birds called out to one another, a sporadic song conducted in the far distant branches of the forest beyond. A whole new collection of life was awakening around them, walking alongside the surge of a completely new day brimming with indescribable possibility. Darkness was inevitable with the passage of time; it was something no one could avoid. But mornings–fantastically warm mornings filled with soft skies and private laughter–those would always come. Jason grinned at Trini, and Trini scrunched her nose up at Jason with a smile, and once again they felt that easy, instant click. Mornings would always come, and in their enclosed little bubble of just them, their team, each other, they would forever be ready for what each new day had in store.