refugee
"The pilots already reviewed that, you know."
He didn't look up from the console as she joined him on the observation deck. "Tired eyes could mean someone's death," he muttered, knowing she didn't really need convincing. "You should be eating."
"So should you." She diverted the second half of the feed to another console and added her own inspection to his. "You could look over the wing data from anywhere on the planet, you know."
He didn't answer. The observation deck was crowded at the end of this most recent patrol, but he ignored the noise to concentrate on damage reports from the wing that followed the remaining Elisian Rangers in defense of Eltare. He would not allow anything to happen to them when he could prevent it.
Something made him look up, drew his eye away from the console and into the patterns of people moving purposefully across the deck. Andros and Zhane weren't scheduled to patrol for some hours, yet here they were. They escorted a group of young and bewildered looking humans--possibly Rangers, from the vibrant colors of their obviously borrowed clothes.
His gaze slid over them dispassionately. There was no room left in his heart for new horrors of war: refugees, children in arms, sometimes they lived and sometimes they didn't and all he could let himself feel was the satisfaction of keeping his wing alive another day. Dark eyes blinked once in silent agreement, already turning away.
He came up short. Those eyes caught his again, startled, as though they were only now realizing what they had seen. Warm brown studied cool blue across the distance between them, and he knew her. Something welled up inside him, something as uncomfortable as it was unstoppable and he took an involuntary step forward--
"Saryn?" A hand on his arm made him swallow hard, an icy cold paralyzing him as he saw the moment through objective eyes. No--please no, it couldn't be...
"Saryn," Jenna repeated, concern evident in her voice as he wrenched his gaze away and forced himself to meet hers. He must have looked as shaken as he felt, for she frowned. "Are you all right?"
No. They weren't coming over here. Andros could not be doing this. Why had the least social Ranger on the planet chosen today to introduce his new charges? There was no way out, no way to leave without raising suspicion and certainly no way to stay--
He was panicking. How was that possible? It would almost have been amusing, had it been happening to someone else. He had been trying not to stare at her since the moment she entered the mess hall, and the fact that he could follow her every movement without looking didn't help in the slightest.
"Smile," Jenna whispered. "Andros and Zhane are bringing their new kids around to meet everyone, and it looks like we're next."
"I'd rather not," he muttered, pushing his chair back and locking his gaze on the door.
Fingers clamped around his wrist, and she gave him a warning look. "You're not going anywhere," Jenna hissed. "These poor kids have probably lost their home and everything they knew in the time it takes to blink. Put up your damn shields and don't glare."
"And these are the Elisian Rangers," Andros said, close enough to be heard over Jenna's whisper. "Saryn, Red, and Jenna, Pink."
"Hi," one of the girls said with a tentative smile. The taller boy echoed her, and the other one nodded in greeting. She waved, and he focused his gaze on Andros with an effort.
"Saryn, Jenna, these are the Rangers of Earth." Andros didn't introduce them as the new Astro Rangers, despite the morphers prominently displayed on their wrists. "Ashley, Yellow, TJ, Blue, Carlos, Black, and Cassandra, Pink."
"Nice to meet you," the Blue Ranger offered, holding out his hand.
"It's an Earth thing," Andros explained, exchanging amused glances with Zhane. "They like to shake hands."
"We're glad to meet you, too," Jenna replied. She took TJ's hand without hesitation, smiling in welcome. "Your fight is our fight, now."
Ashley offered her hand when TJ stepped back, and it was perfectly clear where this was going. Saryn put his hands behind his back and stared straight ahead, trying not to think about what it would mean to touch someone that made him feel so strongly with just a look. He couldn't afford to find out.
"You'll have to forgive Saryn." Jenna remarked, covering for him with an easy smile. "He usually manages to act slightly less grouchy when we're trying to make a good impression, but today isn't one of his better days."
Curiosity. The muted sentiment was foreign, but he knew it immediately. His fingers clenched behind his back as he tried and failed to block the feeling from his mind. Awareness, attraction, even awe and a healthy dose of surprise moved in and made themselves at home behind shields that were just as strong as they had been before.
The emotions were his, after all--but they weren't only his. He knew, with a dread that overwhelmed all instinctive elation, that he would never be alone in his own mind again.
"So Andros thinks I need to learn to focus, which, by the way, thanks a lot, but the point is that he suggested meditation as a way to--oh, what did he say? Channel my energy? Like I have so much extra energy just lying around!"
He gazed at the comm screen, captivated by the animated image it displayed. The energy she dismissed so casually was evident in her every gesture. Her eyes sparkled with it. Even in a recorded video transmission he could imagine the echo of that vibrant spirit in his mind.
It had been several days since their introduction in the mess hall, and he had dared to hope that their schedules would just naturally fall into an incompatible pattern. If she happened to sleep during the hours that he was off-duty, and vice versa, they could conceivably coexist on the same planet for some time without ever running into each other.
Apparently that wasn't going to happen--at least not by accident, and if the way she was seeking him out was anything to go by, not on purpose either. This was the first of two messages she'd left for him today. The first asked if he would help her learn to meditate--supposedly at Andros' suggestion--and the second listed her free time for him in case he couldn't be bothered to look it up.
He found it hard to believe that Andros had suggested him as a meditation tutor. He found it even harder to believe that for a moment, he had actually considered it. As though extended amounts of unsupervised time with someone he couldn't keep his eyes or his mind off of was what either of them ought to want right now. Or ever.
He closed his eyes as the second message began again. Ought to want? Did want, wish for, imagine every time he heard her voice, yes... but ought to want? No. Not when he owed his life to someone else, and his heart was no longer his to give.
"Never" was a harsh word. He tried to concentrate only on today: politely refuse, suggest someone else, ignore her entirely... the options were myriad. There was only one that would bring them together, and dozens that would keep them apart. All he had to do was find them.
Cutting off the seventh replay of those messages would be a start.
"That's exactly the sort of society that deifies Rangers," Jenna argued, sliding her tray along the bar in front of him. "The technology and the biological enhancements that come with the Power require a certain level of cultural advancement in order to be seen for what they are. You can't just throw that kind of protection at a primitive society and expect them to see it as anything less than divine intervention."
"Divine intervention is not the default explanation for the unknown in every culture." Saryn reached across her to retrieve his drink. "And stop trying to hoard the juice. Your clever maneuvering will not work on me."
She smiled sweetly as his reach brought him to a halt a breath away from her face. "Who says it's the juice I was maneuvering for?"
"My mistake," he murmured, closing the distance for a kiss. "I have underestimated you yet again."
"You'll never learn," she agreed with a sigh that didn't sound at all displeased. "Speaking of which, what other explanation is there but divine intervention? Once you rule out technology and evolution, most cultures fall back on godhood."
"Or magic," he countered. "And before you say it, it is not the same thing. Magic is a separate and inexplicable force possessed by otherwise ordinary people. Deities are extraordinary people with powers far beyond that of a simple sorceror, often assigned the responsibility for creation in some form or other."
"Like a really powerful sorceror," Jenna shot back. The distinction between sorcery and divinity was one they had argued over before, and not one that they were likely to resolve any time soon.
"Cassandra," she added, startling him so badly that he almost dropped his tray. "Help us out here. If a culture isn't developed enough to understand what Ranger powers are, how does it explain them? Are they a gift from the gods?"
Somehow she had managed to sneak up on him, and he wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad. She hadn't been in the mess hall when they entered; of that he was sure. But he hadn't seen her come in, either, and the rush of awareness that had escaped him at first now crashed home with disconcerting strength.
"Could be," she was saying with a shrug. She didn't look anywhere near as stunned as he was sure he must, and she flashed a smile that included them both as she remarked, "Back home, though, we usually blamed aliens."
Jenna laughed, but she shook her head in negation. "Your culture doesn't exactly qualify as simplistic!"
"That's not what Andros says," Cassandra retorted. She grinned when Jenna rolled her eyes. "As far as he's concerned, we don't even have spaceflight."
"Like spaceflight is the determining factor in development," Jenna said indignantly. "Wait until I catch up with Andros. He's such a boy!"
Paralyzed, Saryn could only watch the conversation blossom with a delight that was quickly turning to horror. He had to admire the way she let herself be drawn in, turning the discussion to something she could participate in with only a few deft words to establish common ground. But admiration all too easily turned to something deeper... and if she ever became friends with Jenna, he knew there would be no escaping his fate.
He stood on the raised promenade overlooking one of the Great Halls. Leaning against the railing, he considered the throngs of people flowing in every direction below. Such a position was indefensible in the event of a ground invasion--but given the element of surprise, an enemy stationed here could wreak havoc on the crowd with very little effort.
Tactical strengths and weaknesses were the first things he considered, but they didn't consume every minute of the day. Forcing himself to relax, he let some of the tension and frustration ebb. There was plenty around him to take its place... but there were also smiles, and the occasional burst of laughter in the cacophony.
He focused on those more positive emotions. He didn't have enough of his own to spare lately, and he let the sporadic happiness lighten his mind without guilt or embarrassment. The energy required to keep his own mind a quiet place was sometimes more draining than the noise itself.
His eye wandered while something inside of him settled gratefully into the relative peace of the moment. The war took up most of the other moments in his life, turning them into a string of concentrated and barely contained chaos. Control was an illusion; everyone in the Free Systems acknowledged that. But against all odds, they were holding their own against a darkness that sometimes seemed all-consuming.
Maybe that counted for something. He didn't know. Most of the time, he didn't have time to care. He did what he had to do in order to keep those he could alive. The rest of the time...
Well, the rest of the time he stood on promenades and watched life go on around him. Life in the midst of death. Hope in the midst of fear and futility. Love and kindness, even in the midst of uncaring destruction. There were days when it was enough.
His gaze had ceased to roam, and someone below was returning it with an oddly soothing steadiness. Was she the source of his momentary content? Had she felt him restlessly cast about for a reason? Reason to smile, to fight, to live even when the darkness pressed in close? Had she hesitated even a moment before offering it?
She wanted him to wait. She wanted him to stay while she made her way up to where he was. But the spell was broken when she lowered her eyes, and he turned quickly away from the railing. He would thank her for that gift if he could, but he didn't dare. He was lost in the anonymity of the crowd before she even reached the stairs.
"There," Jenna said, pointing to a spot on the tactical map. "That's where our cover is weakest and the ambush almost succeeded. Without full rotation at the rear of the formation, we don't have weapons' support for almost five seconds after detection."
"Fighter design flaw?" he suggested absently. Andros had just entered Co-Op with two of his teammates, and a good half of his attention was now focused on Cassandra's conversation with Ashley. The other half was trying to pretend the first half wasn't.
"Of course not." Jenna sounded miffed, and one of her shoulders twitched beneath his hands. "It's just a matter of wing deployment. Friendly fighters block the target lock for four of those five seconds."
"Saryn?" Andros' voice interrupted, and he tried not to stiffen. "Do you have a moment?"
He opened his mouth to say no, but Jenna waved him off. "Go. I'll put together some preliminary redeps, and we can go through them together later."
Caught without an excuse, he turned toward the leader of the Astro Rangers reluctantly. Andros caught his eye and cocked his head, indicating that he should join them. Ashley was studying the screen they had gathered around, but Cassandra glanced his way as soon as he turned and followed him with her eyes as he crossed the deck.
"Cassandra is curious about the team dynamics of a split shift," Andros said, when he reached their little group. "I know you and Jenna have always patrolled alone, but you helped the Rangers from Calijyt work out their fighter deployments, didn't you?"
"I did," he said slowly. Annoyance warred with amusement as he tried, barely realizing what he was doing, to stare Cassandra down. She had known that before she asked. Somehow, he knew she had directed the conversation down a path that would invite his participation.
Andros shifted slightly, and the silence had made even Ashley look up. He glanced away quickly, trying to be more irritated than flattered by the way she was manipulating him. It was entirely possible that he wouldn't be able to talk normally to Andros in her presence, let alone to her.
The leader of the Calijyt team saved his reputation with her timely appearance. "Ko'Teth ma Ree can no doubt provide you with better insight than my secondhand opinions would provide," he remarked, trying to hide his relief as he gestured in her direction. "Perhaps if you put your questions to her--"
He probably imagined the flicker of disappointment on Cassandra's face as he escaped back to Jenna.
"What part of 'no' do you fail to comprehend?"
"The part where you don't say it!" she shot back. "You've never told me to leave. You just find other places to be whenever I'm around!"
She had been waiting for him when he returned from patrol. It was the only explanation that made sense, since she had appeared in the prep room the instant Jenna left. He had slammed the locker door only to come face to face with Cassandra.
"Perhaps there is a message there," he informed her, his voice as cold as he could make it. She shouldn't be here, alone with him when anyone could come along and see. He couldn't imagine that there was anything subtle about the connection he felt flaring between them whenever she was near.
"Well, is there?" she demanded, point blank. "If we're going to work together, I need to know why you're constantly avoiding me!"
"In case you have somehow missed this, my heart is given to only one person," he told her. "And she fights at my side."
She looked a little taken aback at that. "I already have a boyfriend, Saryn. I'm not asking for wine and roses! I just want to know if I've offended you somehow--and if I have, how can I fix it?"
"Would you like wine and roses?" The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and he closed his eyes in mute dismay. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I did not mean to say that."
"Wh-what?" Her stammer failed to make her voice any less beautiful.
"You see, then," he murmured, opening his eyes and forcing himself to meet her gaze. "You understand now why I avoid you."
She looked completely bewildered. "No... I don't. What are you talking about?"
"Do you not feel this? This--" He gestured from himself to her, helplessly searching for the words. "Between us? You must, or I am surely losing my mind."
Her fingers were warm on his cheek, and every rational thought in his brain was telling him to turn around and leave. Unfortunately, rational thoughts weren't in control right now, and he was utterly incapable of movement. Her gaze held him captive more effectively than any restraint.
"This?" she repeated, her voice quietly uncertain. "This... attraction, you mean?"
Her touch had answered the question for him, but he couldn't tell her so. He wasn't sure he could tell her anything, if it came to that. He had been right not to take her hand when they were first introduced. All he could concentrate on was the soft feel of her skin against his.
"Yes," she admitted, more softly. "I feel it. But--it doesn't mean anything." She frowned a little, her eyes still locked with his. "Does it?"
He lifted his hand to hers slowly, covering her fingers with his to keep her from pulling away. "No," he whispered. Swallowing hard, he lied to her for the first time. "It doesn't mean anything at all."
She didn't look reassured. "It's just an attraction," she murmured, her gaze dropping to his mouth. "It's not like... like I'm in love with you, or something."
"No," he agreed, mesmerized. He could only watch as she stepped closer, lifting her eyes to his again. "Cassandra--"
It wasn't just his desire that he was struggling with, he realized suddenly. He felt her in his mind, reaching for him as he reached for her, and it was overwhelming him. He shoved her away roughly, taking a step back as he clenched his fists at his sides.
"No," he growled, trying to ignore the look of bewildered hurt that he could feel. "No, Cassandra. I will not do this with you. If I did not say it before, I am saying it now."
She had one hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. He knew without having to see her expression that those words had hurt her more than pushing her away had hurt him. He reached out without thinking but she was already gone, spinning away and darting toward the door.
He let his hand fall, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her go.
bond
It was a lot easier to avoid someone who was actively avoiding you in return. Co-Op, the mess hall, even the fighter bays: he entered, she left. It was as simple as that. She didn't make any effort to hide what she was doing, and he wondered what she had told her teammates that they didn't question her behavior.
It was easier, there was no doubt about that. But it wasn't comfortable. It wasn't pleasant. And he had to face the fact that it might never be again.
He had heard it said that an empathic bond was the most powerful thing two people could share. It went beyond the physical, beyond even the rational, to the emotional core of a person's being. Between true empaths it was a delicate, difficult thing to manipulate. Between others it was rare, spontaneous, and completely uncontrollable.
He had empathic blood. Almost everyone on Elisia had. More unusual were the empathic tendencies that manifested sporadically, and, in his case, unpredictably. His training was incomplete and the ability itself had been stifled by the death of his best friend and teacher. Only Jenna's unwavering support had kept the trauma from overwhelming his entire capacity to feel or care.
Or so he had thought until he caught the gaze of Cassandra Chan on the deck above the fighter bay. For one fleeting moment, he hadn't known who he was: ensconced pilot or new arrival, embattled warrior or revitalized refugee. They had both looked around and seen the same thing... but what had they seen? Their surroundings? Or each other?
He still felt her. He had thought--hoped--that not being in her presence would keep the bond between them from growing. A flicker of something on the edge of his awareness, even the disconcerting surge of alien emotion every now and then... he could handle that. He could ignore it, as long as he didn't also have to ignore her.
Hard as it was to admit, she did something to his senses that echoed her devastating effect on his heart. She was beautiful in a way that wasn't at all self-conscious, and the more he saw her face the more it haunted him. He had hoped that the unspoken and now mutual effort to avoid each other would dull the effect.
He had been wrong. She was on his mind and in his thoughts. He knew she was coming before she even entered the room now, and he suspected she could feel his approach the same way. There was no way to share space without knowing it, no matter how many people were between them.
For the moment, it made staying out of each other's way a little easier. In the long run, though, he was desperately afraid that it would make physical separation a futile effort.
The irony of the situation did not escape him. When she seemed to be there every time he turned around, he devoted most of his energy to staying out of her way. The moment she started to return the favor, he found excuse after excuse to make their paths cross.
He had thought he didn't want to see her. It turned out that he didn't want to be seen with her, which was a very different thing. It also seemed an increasingly trivial worry when faced with the possibility that she might never speak to him again.
She had chased him almost since her arrival. All it took was her stopping, and suddenly their positions were reversed. Fortunately, he prided himself on being rather better at discreet surveillance and interception than she was.
She had already passed his location when she began to slow, glancing around as though she expected an ambush in this, one of the quieter avenues of the comm transit station. All the Rangers had access to teleportals, of course, but she wasn't one to hide behind the convenience of technology. She thought it was elitist... yet another thing he had discovered about her without having to ask.
"Behind you," he said quietly, and he saw her stiffen.
Turning slowly, her glare was as angry as her posture. "What do you want?" she demanded. Angry, yes, but surprised? No. She wasn't surprised in the least, and he wondered if she knew why.
"To see you," he admitted. There was nothing for it but to tell her the truth. Not only would she know if he lied, but her recent absence from his life had made him more reckless with his words.
"I thought you weren't going to do this with me." She bit off each word, looking almost as torn as he felt. "What are you doing stalking me through the subway?"
He sighed, knowing there was no excuse that made it right. "It isn't 'this' I dream of," he told her. Holding her gaze, he willed some sign of understanding to flicker in her eyes. "It's you."
"Stop it."
He knew, but he had to ask anyway. "What?"
"This!" She gestured impatiently. "Whatever you're doing to me! I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it isn't funny."
He sighed to himself, but she might as well blame him. He blamed her, after all: for being here, now, for making him feel what he had given up on, for coming into his life at all. He had reached a tenuous equilibrium between his own being and what was expected of him, only to have her arrival cast doubt on everything he thought he knew.
"If it makes you feel any better," he said quietly, "I have done nothing to you that you haven't done to me in return."
She folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him. "So I made a pass at you. I'm sorry, all right? I'm not exactly proud of it myself."
"No," he agreed. That might be a given, but it didn't help his heart to hear it. "You wouldn't be."
"I totally embarrassed myself," she declared. "You said no. Whatever happened to rejecting someone and moving on?"
"You didn't have to stop and speak with me," he pointed out.
"I'm not talking about the unnecessary stalking!" she exclaimed. "I'm talking about this thing--" She pointed at him, then at her temple. "Between us. I want it to stop."
The corner of his mouth quirked, and he couldn't keep his amusement from showing. "Believe me when I say you are not alone in that."
"So stop it already!" she burst out. "It's driving me crazy!"
"It's nothing I have done." He watched her expression carefully, wondering how much she would let him explain. Wondering how much he wanted to explain. Giving voice to the feelings could only make them more real.
"The fuck it isn't!" She was beyond frustrated now, and he tried not to find her wrath appealing. She was passionate in everything she said and did--his opposite in so many ways. "I never felt anything like it before you, and you're the only one it works on!"
"I do not find that hard to believe," he said softly. "Nonetheless, it is not my doing. I would put an end to it if I could, but I cannot."
She stared at him for a long moment, emotions flashing in her eyes too quickly to read. Then, in an eerie echo of their last encounter, she whirled and walked away from him without another word.
Had he thought about it he never would have gone after her, let alone grabbed her arm to halt her retreat. But he hadn't and he did, grip tightening when she tried to wrench away from him. "You cannot walk away from this," he told her.
"Watch me," she spat, twisting her arm at such an angle that he was forced to let her go. She slid away easily before he could catch her again, but not before awareness of what she meant to do dawned.
"Do not tell Jenna."
She stopped in her tracks, head cocked to one side. She didn't look back at him. "Who says I'm going to tell Jenna anything?"
Not for nothing had he tracked down every bit of information Eltare had on her. "I will be forced to reciprocate," he said quietly, hating the stillness of her shoulders when she realized what he meant. "I suspect there is information about your activities that TJ Carter does not have."
"He's not going to hold a spell against me!" she exclaimed. She turned to face him once more, arms folded in determination. "I heard you talking about magic with Jenna! That's all this is!"
He found himself too frustrated to be amused. "This has nothing to do with magic! A fact which Jenna would confirm, if you were to actually ask her!"
"So why don't you want me to?" she challenged.
"Because she will immediately recognize it for what it is," he retorted. "This will end our relationship more surely than any spell, and whatever you may think, that is not something I have ever desired."
She rolled her eyes, making it clear what she thought of that assertion.
"I do not wish to threaten you," he said softly, not taking his eyes off of her. "But what Jenna knows, TJ will also know. Do not underestimate my capacity for persuasion."
"How dare you," she hissed.
Her anger slammed into him, almost taking his breath away. His stomach lurched sickeningly as he realized just what his ill-chosen words had done. Whatever chance of compromise had existed between them before, it had to be gone now.
"How dare you threaten me!" She had taken a step toward him, and for one heart-wrenching moment he thought she might actually slap him. "What exactly are you going to tell TJ? That I think you're hot? That's not a crime! Not on my planet, anyway, and frankly I couldn't care less about yours right now!
"Obviously looks aren't any judge of character," she added scathingly. "But if you want to go around telling people I'm attracted to tall, dark, and mysterious types, go right ahead. The fact that you care will probably do wonders for your reputation!"
It was all he could do to keep from flinching in the face of such an assault. Her emotions raged around him, buffeting his mind and lending an alarmingly hungry echo to her words. Furious, frustrated... and very, very, volatile. He was clawing his way through a torrent of feelings he hadn't dealt with for years, and he was terrified that no matter what he did it was about to blow up in his face.
"How dare you try to manipulate me?" she demanded, standing toe to toe with him now. Her tone was full of righteous indignation, but her gaze was as desperate as his. "I haven't done anything wrong!"
He could feel her breath on his skin and he crushed his mouth to hers without conscious thought. Her lips parted beneath his, feverishly eager as she pressed into his arms and the bond exploded between them. He lost himself, he lost her, in a sea of dizzying sensation.
She wrenched herself away, her heart pounding in his ears and his anguish on her face. Overlapping perception and a mind-numbing desire to be closer made the situation almost unbearable. He grasped her shoulders blindly, holding them apart as he fought to regain his identity.
She cried out--or he did--and one of them shook the other roughly. "Concentrate," he ordered harshly, and her grip on his arms was a welcome pain that helped distinguish one from the other.
"I can't!" she cried, but the words were having an effect. He knew who was speaking now, could see the tears in her eyes as she pushed him away, felt his own loneliness flooding the empty places of his heart.
"That--that was..." She looked lost and just as lonely as her wide eyes begged him to tell her what had happened. "S--Saryn?"
He swallowed hard, wishing she hadn't picked now to start using his name. "That was what we cannot have."
This time, he would keep his vow. He would not see her. He would not speak to her unless duty demanded it. He wouldn't even acknowledge her existence, except as one of many Rangers that made their patrol rotation work. He certainly wouldn't seek her out again.
Unfortunately, the days when he had to seek her out to know what she was doing were long past. He knew when she woke up, when she got angry, whether she was feeling hopeless or happy without ever having to see her. He found reasons to be alone when she was on patrol, for the adrenaline and Power-augmented tumult of battle made her presence in his mind impossible to ignore.
Nights were torture. He knew when she was with TJ, and even when she wasn't he couldn't stop his dreams. Jenna hadn't said a word, but he was terrified that one night the sound of her name would betray him while he slept. Or worse--while he wasn't sleeping.
"Hey."
He looked up in surprise as Andros joined him across the table. "Andros," he acknowledged, turning his half-hearted attention back to the tray in front of him. "I trust that you are well."
"Yeah," Andros said, frowning a little. "I am." Saryn could feel the other Ranger's eyes on him, and in typically blunt fashion Andros asked, "Are you?"
"Of course." He understood the importance of morale in their current situation, but he couldn't keep the irony out of his voice. "What makes you ask?"
"You've withdrawn more than usual," Andros said, stabbing the food on his tray and popping it into his mouth. A moment later he added, "Even from Jenna. Zhane was talking to her the other day."
Saryn sighed to himself. Zhane: that explained it. Andros wasn't one to venture into an emotional situation without prodding--or backup. The Silver Ranger would probably be arriving any minute.
"I assume," he said quietly, "that telling you I do not wish to discuss it will be useless in this case."
Andros smiled. "And I assume that you'll talk around it no matter how hard we press, eventually getting out of the conversation without having told us anything at all. But," he said with a shrug, reaching for his glass, "at least you know we care."
Saryn caught Andros' eye at last, and he allowed himself a small smile in return. "Yes," he agreed softly. "I know."
restless
"I'm fine," he told Linnse. "You saw the scans yourself. There is no reason I cannot resume patrol immediately--there's nothing wrong with me!"
"Then do it for Jenna," Linnse snapped. "The Power she used to heal you had to come from somewhere! She's exhausted, physically and emotionally, after that suicidal stunt of yours. Give her a break and let the Eltarans cover the next rotation."
He glared at her, but there was nothing he could say when she put it like that. He wouldn't ask Jenna to take on burdens he was willing to shoulder himself, even if she would do it without hesitation. Linnse had used that against him with no hint of remorse.
So he found himself confined to the recuperating wing of the medical ward long into the night, staring up at the ceiling while Jenna slept at his side. He tried not to feel anything, not to let his consciousness wander past the boundaries of the room, but it was a losing battle. Cassandra was awake, and her restlessness plagued him like a living thing.
Finally, he extracted himself from the bed with more care than was probably necessary, given his lover's unconscious state. Linnse had been right to pull her from rotation. She was so deeply asleep that her mind might as well have been somewhere else entirely while her body recovered from the stresses of the day.
He had barely made it through the doorway when he heard the lift at the other end of the hallway. The lights were piercingly bright after the artificial darkness of their room, but he didn't need them to know who was stepping out of that lift. He should turn around, close the door behind him, lose himself in the newsnets if he truly couldn't sleep.
Another vow broken, he thought, catching her eye down the long, empty corridor.
Then Linnse was there, drawing her attention away momentarily as she intercepted the visitor. He should have taken the distraction, used it to turn back, slip away, or at least conceal the fact that he was nearby. Instead he found himself drifting down the hallway toward them, and he didn't miss Linnse's surprise when she caught sight of him.
"Saryn," she scolded, clearly torn between her visitor and him. "You're supposed to be sleeping!"
He couldn't take his eyes off of Cassandra. "I'm not the only one."
She shrugged a little, her gaze locked with his. "Andros sent me," she said, as though that was all the explanation she needed. "To check on you. And Jenna."
"Did he." He didn't bother to make it a question; he knew the answer already. "Thank you for your concern, but I am well. Jenna is sleeping."
"And you're not." She paid no attention to Linnse, now watching with avid interest as they utterly failed to make their encounter plausible. "Insomnia?"
His smile was humorless as he drank in every aspect of her presence. Her voice, her appearance... the sense of something just beyond his reach standing so very close. "That's one word for it," he agreed quietly.
The lift hummed, announcing an imminent arrival, and Linnse got their attention with a snap of her fingers. Indicating both of them, she pointed at the door to her office. Saryn held her gaze for an interminable second, and she returned his stare with an expectant look of her own.
He obeyed without a word, his heart sinking even as he heard Cassandra close the door behind them. It wasn't that he didn't think Linnse would keep their secret. It was the fact that she knew when all they had done was look at each other.
"It's getting worse, isn't it," Cassandra murmured. From the sound of her voice, she hadn't moved from the door. "This... thing, between us. It's getting stronger."
"Yes," he whispered, staring down at the desk in front of him. Swallowing, he managed to speak in an almost normal tone of voice. "I am sorry, but it will continue despite our best efforts."
"Are you doing this?" she asked, her voice curiously detached. "Did you start it on purpose?"
"No." No. "You don't know how much I wish I could stop it."
"What is it? Why do I know... what you're doing? Where you are, who you're with, even when I'm not with you? Why do I feel like I am you, sometimes?"
"We..." He found, after he had begun, that he couldn't say it. "There is such a thing as an empathic bond," he said quietly. "Among my people, it happens infrequently and spontaneously."
He wanted to stop there, but she had to know. "It is considered the... the strongest emotional bond two people can share. People who--" His voice broke, and it was barely audible when he continued. "We believe that people who experience such a thing are bound beyond this life."
"Bound," she echoed. "In... a good way?"
He closed his eyes. "I love you," he whispered, taking some comfort in the darkness. "You know this, and I can no longer pretend otherwise. I am... sorry for what it's doing to our lives."
There was a chime, and the door slid open a moment later. He heard a pause that must have been Linnse assessing their postures. Finally she offered, "You're all clear, if you want to take this somewhere else."
He turned, careful to keep from catching Cassandra's eye. "I will be going back to sleep," he told Linnse stiffly. "Thank you for your--intervention."
"Saryn." Linnse stopped him before he could take more than a single step toward the door. She lifted one finger and tapped her temple slowly.
He stared at her in shock. If he was projecting now... He couldn't even tell. He tried desperately to contain his own feelings, unsure of where the leak was and even less sure how to stop it. "Better?"
She shook her head. "Maybe--you shouldn't go back to Jenna right away," she said carefully. "Even I can..." She glanced at Cassandra pointedly before looking back at him. "Well."
He followed her gaze helplessly. He wanted her, and now not only could he not admit it aloud, he couldn't even think it in his own mind. But there was no way not to. What was he supposed to do if he couldn't maintain the most basic mental shielding?
Everything came crashing down on him at once: Cassandra, Jenna, Cassandra... the bond and his rapidly deteriorating control. First Zhane, and now Linnse. It wasn't them--it was him. He couldn't do this.
He lifted his hands to his head, pressing his palms against his temples as he squeezed his eyes shut. Cassandra! The anguished mental cry was involuntary and meant for only one person. Unfortunately, what he meant didn't seem to carry much weight with the universe anymore.
She had caught his wrists before he realized she was there, pulling his hands away from his face and forcing him to open his eyes. "Saryn," she whispered urgently, searching his gaze. "It's okay. I'm right here."
"I know," he whispered, staring back at her. He stood frozen, not daring to take her hands but not strong enough to push them away. "I know. That's the problem."
"I'd trust my teammates with it," Linnse was saying, seated on the edge of her own desk and tapping her foot absently against the floor. "But none of them are empaths. There's a healer in the capitol, but--"
"No." Arms folded, he was hunched disconsolately in the chair by the door. He knew he probably looked pathetic, but he didn't care enough to do anything about it. "I will not go to an outsider with this."
"Well, you have to do something," Linnse pointed out. Her tone wasn't exactly sympathetic, but at least her usual asperity was dulled a little. "The only other person I can think of is Zhane."
He grimaced, eyes fastened on the foot she was tapping on the floor. "The day I ask Zhane for help in anything--"
"Is the day your empathic birthright kicks in and screws you over," Linnse interrupted. "Born on the wrong planet, Saryn. It happens. You cope."
He didn't answer.
It was Cassandra who finally broke the silence, speaking tentatively from her position on the other side of Linnse's desk. As far from Saryn as she could get. "Why Zhane?" she wanted to know, glancing uncertainly from him to Linnse. He couldn't tell if her question had more to do with Linnse's suggestion or his reaction.
Linnse just shrugged, but he could feel her eyes on him without looking up. "Zhane's the only non-Elisian Ranger that displays any empathic tendencies at all. He doesn't use it, not consciously, but he does live with it."
"Insufferably," Saryn muttered under his breath.
"Saryn doesn't like him," Linnse added, and the amusement in her voice was unmistakable. "He only puts up with him because of Andros. Or so he says."
"You're jealous," Cassandra blurted out.
Saryn's head jerked up. Her dark eyes locked with his, and she frowned prettily. "You wish you were more like him? What does Zhane have that you don't?"
He glared at her, and only then did she seem to realize what she'd done. "I would appreciate it," he said sharply, biting off each word, "if you could refrain from saying everything I think out loud."
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Linnse, for once displaying the slightest amount of tact, pretended she had not heard. "I think you should talk to him," she told Saryn, stilling her foot against the floor at last. "There's no one else."
She stopped abruptly, but Saryn heard the words she didn't say. There was no one else--except Jenna.
Zhane held up a hand instinctively, squinting against the bright light of the hallway as he blinked out of the darkness. "Saryn?" His voice was rough with sleep and he didn't look at all amused. "What do you want?"
"I... require your assistance," Saryn muttered, staring steadily at the doorframe. "I apologize for disturbing you at this hour."
Zhane yawned, dropping his hand to his mouth and closing his eyes for a moment. "Hang on a second," he said, eyes still closed. "I'll be right out."
There was movement in the shadows behind him, and Saryn didn't miss the flicker of metal as Andros joined him in the doorway. "I'm up," the Red Ranger said quietly, putting one hand on Zhane's shoulder. "You want to come in?"
He had known that anything he said to Zhane, he would be saying to Andros too. Nonetheless, he almost refused. He valued Andros' opinion above Zhane's, and it would be more difficult to admit weakness to two than one no matter who they were.
He swallowed hard. "Thank you," he said stiffly, stepping into the darkened room.
The lights came up part way, casting a diffuse radiance over the room as the door slid shut behind him. He heard a soft click as Andros discreetly set his blaster down on the counter. Zhane slumped on the couch, following his lover with his eyes.
"Didn't mean to wake you." The Silver Ranger addressed Andros as though Saryn wasn't there. "I thought I was quieter than that."
"Just dozing," Andros answered with a sigh. He dropped onto the couch beside Zhane, indicating that Saryn should take the chair against the adjacent wall. "Couldn't really sleep anyway."
Zhane frowned over at Saryn as though it was his fault, and he found himself echoing Andros' sigh. Didn't they have enough problems of their own without him rousing them in the middle of their night? What did he expect them to do, anyway?
"I guess it's going around," Zhane remarked. When Saryn looked up, he realized Zhane was still watching him. "Something on your mind, Saryn?"
"Too much," he murmured, knowing he was no different than any other in that respect. "I am... I have been having--difficulty." He cast about for the words, wishing he had thought this out more thoroughly. "I find I can not... keep my feelings to myself."
Andros absorbed this without the slightest surprise, but Zhane's stare was disconcertingly intense. "This is an empath thing?" he asked bluntly. "Jenna would know more about that than I would."
"I can not ask Jenna," he told the wall behind them. Why was he here? Why had he come, and more than that, why wasn't he leaving? This could accomplish nothing.
"She is..." He couldn't stop. "She is part of the problem," he admitted reluctantly.
"If you were projecting something that bothered Jenna," Zhane said slowly, "she'd help you stop. So you must be projecting something that you don't want her to know about."
Saryn didn't answer.
Zhane seemed to consider that for a moment, and Andros leaned back against the couch cushions as though he was too tired to sit up. He put one foot up on the table in front of them, deliberately casual, but Saryn knew he was analyzing every word. He could almost see the energy flickering between the two Rangers despite their lack of physical contact.
"Saryn," Zhane said at last. "What do you expect me to do? Us? Me? Is it me you were looking for?"
"It was," Saryn said with a sigh. "I suppose I ask the impossible, but... I do not even know what is wrong, just that I must fix it."
Zhane was frowning again. "If this is about Jenna," he said carefully, "I think you're going to have to talk to her about it. And if it's about empathy... well, I don't really know why you're asking me."
Andros kicked him, gently but with no effort at subtlety. He gave Zhane a reproving look when his lover glanced over at him, and Zhane held his hands out helplessly. "What? So I have 'empathic tendencies'. What does that mean? I can't even tell, so what good is it?"
"You're fortunate," Saryn muttered. He felt Zhane's sharp look, but couldn't bring himself to catch the Silver Ranger's eye.
"Maybe," Zhane said after a pause. "But I bet there are advantages."
Andros didn't quite manage to conceal his smirk, though he steadfastly avoided Zhane's gaze. It was clearly a conversation they'd had before, and Saryn felt a pang of envy for their close and easy bond. They communicated without words, sometimes without any outward expression at all, and there was no self-consciousness in the way they understood and depended on each other.
Zhane glanced back at him when he didn't answer, his face sobering. "Saryn... is there something we can do? Because you know we'll help if we can. But I have no idea what's going on, let alone what to do about it."
Before he could answer, a noise from the back of the room made him tense. Andros didn't move, though, and Zhane just craned his neck around to look. "Can't sleep either?" he called softly.
One of Cassandra's teammates stepped out of the shadows.
"Hey, Ash," Andros said without looking around. "Sorry to wake you up."
"No," she said with a sigh. She came forward hesitantly, gaze flicking from them to him and back again. "Zhane's right, I couldn't sleep. Am I--interrupting?"
He shook his head, not even waiting for her to catch his eye. He was aware of both Andros and Zhane glancing in his direction, but he was too surprised for anything but polite denial. The Yellow Ranger... Ashley? Ashley Hammond. He hadn't known she was staying with them.
She had come out of the far room, through a door that had once led to their meditation lounge. She was dressed in pajamas, arms wrapped around a green sweatshirt that was clearly older than what she wore now. He couldn't fathom its origin, but it seemed to give her some comfort.
"Come on," Zhane said, reaching out to her. All the impatience was gone from his voice, and he was as quiet and gentle as Saryn had ever seen him. He radiated something soothing, something that seemed to touch all of them but had an immediate effect on Ashley.
She smiled a little, transferring her sweatshirt to one arm and putting her hand out to take his. She walked around the end of the couch, collapsing on the cushions when Zhane pulled her down between him and Andros. She let Zhane draw her into a loose embrace, her head on his shoulder and her bare feet in Andros' lap. Andros patted them absently, the same contented smile on his face.
It was Zhane, Saryn realized abruptly. Studying the scene, he wondered that they couldn't see it. Zhane might never have heard a word about empathy before coming to Eltare, but he had an unconscious ability to project and presumably to receive emotion. Consciously or not, he was using it right now.
Maybe that was his answer. Zhane responded to those around him without trying, without thinking about it. Saryn could work as hard as he would, and still it would get him nowhere: empathic control was rooted in one's own emotions. It was something he had not had to acknowledge for years, since his own sense had been repressed and unused. Now, though, it was shuddering back to awareness, and it brought with it feelings he couldn't remember how to handle.
Ashley's eyes closed, for just a moment, and he saw Andros catch Zhane's gaze over her head. The look that passed between them spoke of a peace that carried them through these troubled days. They had always had something no one else could touch, and yet here was Ashley, snuggled between them and apparently unaware of the impossible ease with which they had accepted her into their lives.
No questions, no jealousy... they wanted what they wanted, and none of them needed anymore justification than that. He couldn't begrudge them this fleeting tranquility. But there was no way to silence the chorus of "if only"s in his mind.