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The Machines were assholes.
Okay, kind of expected--they called themselves the Machine Empire, because apparently working nonstop ‘like a machine’ made you something other than creepy. But fuck, Tommy was getting really fucking sick of being kidnapped.
That’s one way of putting it, a sarcastic voice in the back of Tommy’s head drawled.
Tommy tried not to grimace. It was better not to--
He fell over the fence he’d been climbing and landed hard on the ground.
Ow.
Tommy lay on his back for a minute, staring up at the sky. This brainwashing attempt hadn’t been as bad as the Wizard’s or even Rita’s. Not really. They weren’t good at psychology, so the machines had settled on trying to beat him into submission. After Rita, it was hard not to burst out laughing at that kind of thing.
“...Are you okay?”
Hunh. A kid, in yellow--high schooler, she looked like, with enough makeup to make a raccoon jealous and a guitar at her side. Tommy had thought he’d heard music, he’d just figured it was from a bedroom.
“Yeah, m’fine.” Tommy said. He didn’t really want to get up, but he got up anyway. “Sorry, didn’t mean to land in your backyard…” He looked up. Well, an apartment complex’s backyard, anyway.
Gangs started off as a way of keeping the peace when police wouldn’t. The Rangers still held to that, even if they supported themselves with drug money. The Machines didn’t. The apartment looked like it was falling apart, covered in graffiti--not the artistic kind either, just scrawls from kids who’d tagged the building--and sagging weirdly. There was a boy peering out of the doorway, dressed in white that made his sickly-pale skin look even worse.
There was a gunshot, and Tommy jumped. The girl glanced around nervously. “Come inside.”
Hell no. “Uh, thanks, but I should--”
“Someone’s after you, right?” The boy said, quiet enough to shut Tommy up. The girl just raised an eyebrow.
Tommy sighed. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”
“In.” The girl told him.
Tommy humored her. At least it got them indoors.
* * *
“Kira, I’m--ow.” Tommy sighed as Kira pressed a washcloth to his head again.
The girl was Kira, and the boy was Trent. They were hiding in the attic, where Kira said she stayed when her mom got too drunk; Tommy saw a ghost of a bruise on Trent’s face, and didn’t question why he was here instead of safely out of gang territory. At least Kira read as ‘neglected’, not ‘beaten’.
“You are not fine.” Kira grumbled. “You probably have a concussion. You shouldn’t sleep, that’ll make it worse. I’ll stay up with you.”
“I don’t have a concussion. I’m a mixed martial artist, I know what they feel like.” Tommy sighed and took Kira’s wrist, gently so she could pull away if he scared her. “Kira. I’m all right.”
Kira stared. It looked like the entire concept of ‘adult who can care for themselves’ was flying over her head. Tommy remembered his own days like that. It had made Rita a blissful relief.
Tommy gave her a minute, then said, “It’s late. Let me finish up with this, okay? You get some rest.”
Kira frowned suspiciously. “It’s okay…”
“You’re, what, eighteen?” She wouldn’t tell him her real age. Tommy knew that too. “You need more sleep than I do. Go ahead.”
Kira looked suspicious still, but went over to Trent obediently and curled up.
Tommy got up and went to the rusty sink. There was a cheap mirror above it. He could see the bruises ready to form on his face.
He glanced carefully behind him, then checked his neck.
The knife mark was scabbing over, too thin to really scar. The bite marks were lower, less obvious. At least there was that. J would know--J was fucking scary, how he knew things--but he wouldn’t think it was Tommy’s fault.
None of them would, you idiot, said a voice in Tommy’s head that sounded suspiciously like Kat’s. Now clean up and get some sleep.
Tommy smiled wryly and daubed at his head. Who was he to question his honorary sister?
Hopefully he’d be able to get back to her, and the other Rangers, by morning.
* * *
“Shhh!”
Tommy cracked open an eye. It was morning. Early morning, too, from the sunlight. Kira was up and Trent was gone, and Kira was furiously shushing a boy in red. A black boy in blue was sitting next to Tommy’s feet, tinkering with a cell phone.
Red. Yellow. Blue. White.
What was it Z always said? When there’s no one else, there’s a hero waiting to be found? Part of his recruiting shtick, but he seemed to actually believe it.
Looking at these kids, Tommy was starting to believe it himself. Z was an ass, he thought fondly.
Tommy sat up. “S’fine, m’up.” Actually, it was pretty late for him, he normally went running with J in the morning, but he felt even worse than he had yesterday. “What’s up, guys?”
The boys stared at him suspiciously. Kira ignored them, taking charge. “This is Conner and Ethan. They’re my brothers.”
Tommy nodded. “Hey, guys.” He rubbed his eyes. “Okay. What time is it?”
“Seven.” Conner said carefully.
Tommy raised an eyebrow. Conner was full of shit, he could tell that much.
Conner glared him down the way only a righteously angered teen boy could--half pouting, half hinting at the man he’d grow into.
“S’five thirty.” Ethan said without looking up. “You’re Kira’s rescue?”
Tommy chuckled. “Kind of, yeah.” Half of him wanted to ask if their parents had a car he could borrow. The other half was already registering the wary way the boys looked at him. “Well, tell you what. You guys want to round up Trent, I can take you guys to breakfast. A thank-you for saving my as--butt last night.” He could take them to Ernie, he’d know what to do with them, and if not he could call up Jen and get her involved.
“Assbutt?” Ethan drawled.
Tommy snorted and got to his feet, trying not to notice that he was also stiff as a board. “Yeah, yeah, it’s early. Let my brain-mouth filter boot up.”
“How’d you piss off the Machines?” Conner demanded.
Sigh.
Tommy studied Conner’s expression, which the boy apparently took for a challenge. Conner stepped closer, trying to tower over Tommy and, for the most part, failing--he was too obviously young for a move like that. Tommy had to bite back a snicker. This kid was the worst peewee Tommy had ever met. “I asked a question, Ranger.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that name?” He could almost feel Ethan tensing up beside him. Fuck. If he got his hands on these kids’ parents he was gonna strangle them himself.
“Never mind that.” Conner blustered, his eyes flicking to Ethan. “What happened?”
Tommy considered. The kid wasn’t a threat, just scared and posturing. Tommy wasn’t gonna smack him down for it. “A gang fight. They kidnapped me, and I got free. You guys helped me, so I thought you might like pancakes. That’s all, promise.”
Conner considered that. Tommy waited patiently. Honestly, if it came down to it, he could probably just sit on Conner until he calmed down. “Give us a minute.” Conner demanded finally, jerking his head at the door. Ethan and Kira got up and went with him.
Tommy could overhear bits of the whispering as they discussed. He had to bite back snickers, then laughter as he did. Apparently, they were a ‘gang’, and trying to ‘fight the Machines’. By tagging things. And Conner wanted to keep Tommy prisoner in the attic, while Kira was hissing that he was an idiot and an asshole, and Ethan pointed out that he liked pancakes.
Tommy forced down laughter through sheer effort before saying, “You know, if you want to stick it to the Machines, the Rangers could help with that.”
Tommy could almost see their ears perking up.
“Of course, you’d have to spend a lot of time at the gun range…” Tommy added nonchalantly. “Ride a bit with us so you can get your licenses...Billy’s out of town, but he’s got a knack for bikes, he might be able to help you get some of your own.”
They glanced at each other.
“...We’re just taking you back.” Conner said cautiously.
“Sure.” Tommy agreed. “I owe you guys some breakfast anyway.”
They all nodded.
Tommy smiled. “Come on, then. Let’s get some food into you.”
That night, Rocky helped Tommy haul a new bed into one of the two guest rooms. The kids were here to stay.