The Tainted and the Broken- Part 4
Author: dream-edge
Title: The Tainted and the Broken
Summary: In an effort to protect Ziggy, Dillon is thrown into te future. A future where everything he knows is drastically different. During his struggle to get home, he finds himself drawn into the twisted, broken mess his best friend has become.
Rating: T
Pairings: Dillon/Ziggy, Doctor K/Tenaya
Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers or anything related to the franchise.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The Tainted and the Broken
Chapter 4
Dillon was pretty sure he had never felt this angry in his entire life. He ground his teeth together, glaring at the young man before him. Ziggy stared stoically back at him, his arms crossed over his chest, looking completely nonchalant. "I had a right to know." he hissed.
Ziggy raised an eyebrow, looking unconcerned in the face of his anger. Four days ago, if he had been this angry, Ziggy would have been trying his best to avoid him or make sure he was still on Dillon's good side. Now he didn't so much as bat an eyelash and for some reason that pissed him off even more, especially since he would have been so annoyed if his Ziggy got scared; the boy should know he wouldn't hurt him. Ziggy just gave a calm, chilly smile. "I did tell you."
"You said I was dead!" he shouted, finally unable to hold back his anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he could the rest of the team start to ease uncertainly out of the room. Kat was looking at them worriedly from the doorway to her lab where she had been coming to greet them. She had stopped when Dillon had spun towards Ziggy, anger and tension in every line of his body, looking worriedly at Tenaya for an explanation.
Ziggy's calm, completely false smile fell away, leaving him startlingly cold in appearance. "I said 'we lost you first'. I never said you were dead." he corrected, his tone tight, his body tensed, his expression blank, and his eyes harsh.
Dillon ground his teeth, one of his hands tightening into a fist. He had never actually considered purposely hurting any of his teammates but Ziggy was quickly pushing him towards the point where he would actually carry out the thought. "You never said I was evil." He finally managed to grind out. "I deserved to know I was working for Venjix."
"What I decide you need to know seems to be completely up to me." Ziggy countered. Before he could snap back at him, Ziggy walked quickly out of the room, effectively ending the conversation. Dillon stood there for a long moment, trying to reign in the anger flying through him. "Damn him!" He finally shouted.
He didn't notice Tenaya usher the others from the room and approach him until her hand fell down on his shoulder. He looked at her, unable to stop the glint of animosity from shining in his eyes. She either didn't notice or knew he wouldn't hurt her of all people. She merely shook her head. "Don't blame him." she whispered.
"I deserved to know!" He shouted, feeling like he was about to explode from the emotions running through him. The shock of realization, the anger of not being told, the horrible twist of guilt, the spreading numb as the truth started to settle in. The destroyed lab, the loss of Scott, Flynn, and Summer, the darkness in Ziggy's eyes; they were probably all his fault.
Tenaya's eyes seem to read everything going on in his mind more effectively then Ziggy's telepathy ever had. "You're right." she agreed, sounding sympathetic. "You didn't deserve to find out like that. No one does. But don't blame Ziggy for it."
He looked at her, anger flooding through him again, winning over everything else. "How can I not?! He's team leader now, he should be the one telling me these things."
"It's a distancing maneuver, Dillon." She whispered. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she continued. "By not telling you, by not saying anything about the deaths or you losing to the virus, he gets to pretend for just a few seconds that it didn't happen. And those few seconds are the only thing keeping him together some days..." She trailed off, her brown eyes suddenly looking distant. "He fell apart when you left Dillon. A complete break down. Ever since then he has to do certain things to hold himself together. He loses himself in his work, he doesn't smile or laugh like he used to, he avoids people as much as possible, and he doesn't talk about the bad times. And by doing all those things, for a few precious seconds he can let himself... just forget."
As her words sunk in, Dillon suddenly felt very, very tired. The anger had left him, leaving him feeling drained and empty, a slow numbness sinking into all of his limbs. Tenaya gently grasped his elbow and guided him out of the garage and into the kitchen, pushing him into one of the seats. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face in exhaustion. He heard Tenaya moving around the room and caught the scent of coffee. He opened one eye when something warm was placed next to his arm, staring at the swirling pitch black liquid. "Is coffee your solution to everything?" he asked without any real bite.
"Only when it involves Ziggy." she answered.
Dillon pressed his lips together, memories from the battle they had just returned from playing in his head. The Grinders had returned, forcing most of them back and separating Ziggy from his team. He hadn't seemed to notice, his eyes never straying from the other Dillon. And then, like some unspoken signal had been given, the two had started fighting. What had looked like an elegant dance during training had turned deadly in real battle as the two traded blows. Ziggy was much faster than he remembered and he had learned how to harness his momentum to give him the strength he lacked. It helped bridge the gap the Venjix upgrades created between him and his opponent.
But there had been something in every hit he gave, in the look in his eyes, that was off. Something that chilled him to the bone as he had watched. And now, thinking back on it, he realized what it was. "He's trying to kill me." He recognized.
Tenaya paused, then slid into the seat next to him. "It because he knows you too well." she whispered. And just how was that supposed to comfort him? "For nearly a year and a half, we tried to get you back. And then, Scott and Flynn died... you killed them." Her voice whispered, confirming his worst fears. "And Ziggy knew, he knew, that even if we could bring you back, you wouldn't want us to. He knew that after that, you would never be able to live with yourself. He ordered us to stop trying to save you."
He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the image of Ziggy looking at him with those sad, dead brown eyes as he told them the three missing members of their team were dead. Tenaya's voice washed over him, soft but depressed, trying to make him understand. "Before that, Kat and I were trying to make an anti-virus to get rid of the control program. We were starting to make progress but after their funeral, Ziggy told us to stop. That you wouldn't want to be saved any more. We stopped working on it, buried it under other work and tried to forget about it." Her hand fell on his as she whispered, "Dillon, please." Her voice was a plea, making him raise his head towards her. But he found he couldn't look into his sister's eyes, not when he knew how much pain he'd put her through. "Please, tell me he was right. Tell me we did the right thing. Please, Dillon. Tell me I didn't give up my one chance of knowing my brother."
He thought about it. About how merely knowing he'd killed his friends and irreparably damaged the others made him sick to his stomach. Actually doing it and having to live with it every day... he didn't think he could do it. He turned his hand around to hold her slim, smooth one in his gently. He forced himself to meet her pleading gaze, hating the shadows in them. The shadows he'd put there. "You did the right thing." He assured, meaning it with every once of his being.
---
He walked the halls late that night, unable to sleep with all the thoughts now running through his head. This team was broken and bleeding. Irreplaceable members, people that were basically family, were dead. The remaining members were clinging tight to what was left of their little family, doing what ever they could to forget the deaths had ever happened, to pretend that everything was okay. And the team leader, his sweet, innocent, beautiful Ziggy, was a broken, shattered mess on the verge of a complete nervous break-down. And it was all his fault.
'They don't call them nervous break-downs anymore.' Ziggy's voice whispered, ghosting down the dark, lifeless halls. He jerked, glancing wildly around him. There was nothing around. Then he realized he hadn't actually heard him with his ears. It had all been in his mind. 'They call them severe depressive episodes.' Ziggy continued.
And either he was finally losing it in this very wrong future world or Ziggy was screwing with him. He remembered what Kat had told him that morning, that Ziggy could project his thoughts into other people's heads. "Can you not do that?" he hissed lowly.
'Yes. But then I can't correct you.' Ziggy replied, seemingly nonplussed. 'And I am not on the verge of a mental break-down. I've already had two, I refuse to have another.'
That urge to hit the younger man came back, making him grind his teeth. He walked quickly down to the bottom floor, somehow knowing where Ziggy was. He stalked into the training room, stopping at the sight before him. He felt his breath suddenly catch in his throat and he lost his train of thought. Ziggy was moving deftly across the room, his bare feet sliding gracefully over the practice mats. He was dressed in black sweat pants and a green sleeveless shirt, his hair tied back in a ponytail. There was just the slightest hint of sweat on his brow, making his skin seem to glow. He was moving through a kata seamlessly, his body twisting as he swung a roundhouse kick through the air with such force that he didn't doubt that it would send a Grinder flying even without being morphed.
He walked forward, intending to confront the person that had once been his best friend. The best friend he no longer knew anything about. Ziggy spun suddenly, his foot flying towards him. He reacted automatically, grabbing his ankle and jerking him forward, off-balance. Ziggy tumbled forward, crashing against his chest. Dillon caught him, steadying him quickly, his first reflex being to apologize. "I'm sorry Zig." he said without thinking. "You startled me."
Ziggy sighed, his breath ruffling his shirt. "Don't apologize. It’s a sign of weakness." He said in a tone that meant the words were also reflex, something he'd gotten used to saying. It took only a second for him to remember just who he was talking to though because he jerked back, his hand pushing against his chest. "Let me go." He ordered with a surprisingly strong authority, reminding him that Ziggy had been team leader for quite a while now.
He backed off, watching as the young man took three large steps away from him, his expression tense as he blew his bangs out of his face. "What are you doing down here?" he demanded, glaring at him. Dillon resisted the urge to glare back. "Couldn't sleep. You?"
"I try not to." Ziggy snapped, making Dillon wonder what had pissed him off so much. Ziggy's jaw tightened. "You did." he hissed, answering the question he hadn't said aloud. Now that he knew what he was doing, Dillon really hated it. "Stop reading my mind!" He hissed.
Ziggy gave one sharp, defiant shake of his head, making him growl. "Listen Grover." he snapped, finally fed up. "I have tried being nice and I have tried being sympathetic and you have not given me a single break. I just found out I killed a big part of the only family I had and that I'm still trying to kill what's left of that family and destroy the only home I've ever had. I have had one hell of a day and I'm pretty sure I'm going to completely lose it soon! I do not need your grief. So just back off!"
What happened next, he didn't expect. Ziggy hit him. Actually, flat out hit him. A precise, startlingly strong hit to his jaw. His mind shut down in shock for a split second but in that split second his body acted reflexively, punching Ziggy back. The younger Ranger stumbled away, his head turned down from the hit. Horror swept through him for a brief second, his immediate action being to think that this was Ziggy, who wasn't built like he was, who didn't have Venjix technology running through his body. Then that moment passed as he remembered this wasn't his Ziggy. If it was, he would be on the floor right now.
He watched as Ziggy raised a hand to touch his jaw, his head still turned away. Slowly he turned his head to look at him, his eyes shocked. "You hit me." He whispered breathlessly in surprise.
Dillon rolled his eyes. "You hit me." He replied sarcastically, the glare he'd been trying to hold back earlier showing through.
Ziggy nodded, his jaw tightening, "If that's how you want to play." he hissed. It was the only warning he got before Ziggy spun, launching a vicious round-house kick at his head.
He ducked on reflex, the only thing that saved his head. If Ziggy wanted to fight, he'd fight him. He punched at him, a good majority of his strength in the hit. Ziggy glided quickly around it, moving smoothly into a counter-attack. Almost immediately, Ziggy took control of the fight with surprising ease. He had been right. Ziggy's fighting style looked graceful and elegant from a distance but up close it was quick and deadly. He tried to put distance between them, knowing that if he could throw Ziggy off for even a second, he could destroy his momentum, the thing most dangerous about his technique, and gain the upper hand.
But Ziggy didn't let him, always seeming to be two steps ahead of him. Dillon had no doubt about what he was doing. He was reading his mind. "Get out of my head!" he snarled. Ziggy didn't listen, his eyes shadowed as he glided through a series of three quick point kicks. "You won't win fighting like that." The younger man whispered.
He ground his teeth together, a part of him surprised to find himself unable to shift into the offense, to busy trying to keep Ziggy from seriously hurting him. It took a few seconds for him to realize why and just what Ziggy meant.
He was holding back.
A big part of him didn't want to hurt Ziggy, his first and best friend, even if this wasn't the Ziggy he knew. It was because it was the same eyes staring out at him from beneath the long hair and if he stopped looking too hard he could remember the innocence in them, could ignore the darkness. No matter how much this Ziggy pissed him off, it was still Ziggy.
Ziggy faltered during his next punch.
Dillon took advantage of the waver, grabbing his wrist and throwing him roughly across the practice mats. Ziggy saved himself seconds before he crashed, his hands flattening on the floor as he forced himself into a flip. He landed in a crouch, jerking his head up to glare at him. Dillon saw something catch the light on Ziggy's cheeks and he froze, his eyes widening. Was Ziggy... crying? "Ziggy?" he whispered in shock.
What had happened to the normally calm, unshakable team leader? The hard, cold, almost harsh and uncaring version of his friend? Why was he crying?
Ziggy ignored the tears blurring his vision, rushing him again. Dillon found it suddenly easy to block his attacks, showing just how badly Ziggy was falling apart. Feeling horribly guilty about being the thing that finally pushed him over the edge he grabbed Ziggy's wrist, pulling him close. Ziggy beat his free hand against his chest repeatedly, his hits slowly weakening with each one. Dillon let him, knowing he needed to do it. And when Ziggy's hands were suddenly grasping desperately at the material of his shirt instead of hitting him, he pulled the now sobbing boy against him, holding him close.
The Green Ranger clung to him, tears leaking down his cheeks, his whole body shaking. Dillon felt each sob ripping itself past his throat tear at his heart and he could do little do than hold him close, unable even to say it would be okay. Because it wouldn't be. There was still a crazy, homicidal version of himself running around somewhere trying to kill them. Slowly, the boy stopping crying and slumped against him, breathing still ragged.
"You okay?" Dillon whispered. Ziggy shook his head, burying his head in his shoulder. Dillon sighed, rubbing soothing circles over the small of his back. "I'm sorry." He breathed, not sure what he was apologizing for. Ziggy pulled away slightly to try to give him a stern glare which was ruined by the tears still lingering on his cheeks. "Don't apologize. It's-" Ziggy started.
"A sign of weakness." Dillon finished for him. Ziggy's glare faded away and a small smile crossed his lips. "You're learning." he whispered. Dillon returned his slight smile and helped guide the still shaken younger man up the stairs to his room.
He rolled his eyes when he saw Ziggy's room. "I can't believe you have a window seat." He muttered to himself. Ziggy didn't hear him, walking toward his dresser and pulling out a pair of long cotton green pants and a white shirt. Dillon's eyes widened when he noticed Ziggy's hands fall to the waist band of his sweats and he respectively turned away. The shuffling of clothing met his ears and after a second or two he glanced over his shoulder at his friend. Ziggy had already changed into the sweat pants and was currently tugging on the shirt. He couldn't help but run his eyes over the smooth, unblemished skin of his back as he watched as the white cloth fall down.
He jerked his head away when Ziggy started to turn back and waited until the younger Ranger cleared his throat to turn back around. Ziggy was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes containing a knowing, amused glint. He refused to blush, returning the stare. After a minute a small smile flickered over Ziggy's face and he stretched, wiping away the remains of his tears and walking towards the bed pushed into the far corner. "Good night Dillon." he whispered.
Dillon smiled slightly, hearing hints of the boy Ziggy used to be in his tone, and turned towards the door. As he did, he noticed a glint on the dresser and looked closer. A small ball-bearing chain necklace with a wolf charm lay next to a familiar pocket watch. He walked towards the items, gently picking up the watch. "You kept it?" he asked, hearing Ziggy stop moving behind him.
"I couldn't bring myself to throw it away." Ziggy whispered. "Tried a few times. Couldn't do it."
He looked over at the younger man and gave him a small, thankful smile. "Thank you for taking care of it." he whispered. He placed it back down and nodded slightly before walking out the room. "Good night, Ziggy." he breathed as he shut the door.
Chapter 5
Title: The Tainted and the Broken
Summary: In an effort to protect Ziggy, Dillon is thrown into te future. A future where everything he knows is drastically different. During his struggle to get home, he finds himself drawn into the twisted, broken mess his best friend has become.
Rating: T
Pairings: Dillon/Ziggy, Doctor K/Tenaya
Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers or anything related to the franchise.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The Tainted and the Broken
Chapter 4
Dillon was pretty sure he had never felt this angry in his entire life. He ground his teeth together, glaring at the young man before him. Ziggy stared stoically back at him, his arms crossed over his chest, looking completely nonchalant. "I had a right to know." he hissed.
Ziggy raised an eyebrow, looking unconcerned in the face of his anger. Four days ago, if he had been this angry, Ziggy would have been trying his best to avoid him or make sure he was still on Dillon's good side. Now he didn't so much as bat an eyelash and for some reason that pissed him off even more, especially since he would have been so annoyed if his Ziggy got scared; the boy should know he wouldn't hurt him. Ziggy just gave a calm, chilly smile. "I did tell you."
"You said I was dead!" he shouted, finally unable to hold back his anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he could the rest of the team start to ease uncertainly out of the room. Kat was looking at them worriedly from the doorway to her lab where she had been coming to greet them. She had stopped when Dillon had spun towards Ziggy, anger and tension in every line of his body, looking worriedly at Tenaya for an explanation.
Ziggy's calm, completely false smile fell away, leaving him startlingly cold in appearance. "I said 'we lost you first'. I never said you were dead." he corrected, his tone tight, his body tensed, his expression blank, and his eyes harsh.
Dillon ground his teeth, one of his hands tightening into a fist. He had never actually considered purposely hurting any of his teammates but Ziggy was quickly pushing him towards the point where he would actually carry out the thought. "You never said I was evil." He finally managed to grind out. "I deserved to know I was working for Venjix."
"What I decide you need to know seems to be completely up to me." Ziggy countered. Before he could snap back at him, Ziggy walked quickly out of the room, effectively ending the conversation. Dillon stood there for a long moment, trying to reign in the anger flying through him. "Damn him!" He finally shouted.
He didn't notice Tenaya usher the others from the room and approach him until her hand fell down on his shoulder. He looked at her, unable to stop the glint of animosity from shining in his eyes. She either didn't notice or knew he wouldn't hurt her of all people. She merely shook her head. "Don't blame him." she whispered.
"I deserved to know!" He shouted, feeling like he was about to explode from the emotions running through him. The shock of realization, the anger of not being told, the horrible twist of guilt, the spreading numb as the truth started to settle in. The destroyed lab, the loss of Scott, Flynn, and Summer, the darkness in Ziggy's eyes; they were probably all his fault.
Tenaya's eyes seem to read everything going on in his mind more effectively then Ziggy's telepathy ever had. "You're right." she agreed, sounding sympathetic. "You didn't deserve to find out like that. No one does. But don't blame Ziggy for it."
He looked at her, anger flooding through him again, winning over everything else. "How can I not?! He's team leader now, he should be the one telling me these things."
"It's a distancing maneuver, Dillon." She whispered. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she continued. "By not telling you, by not saying anything about the deaths or you losing to the virus, he gets to pretend for just a few seconds that it didn't happen. And those few seconds are the only thing keeping him together some days..." She trailed off, her brown eyes suddenly looking distant. "He fell apart when you left Dillon. A complete break down. Ever since then he has to do certain things to hold himself together. He loses himself in his work, he doesn't smile or laugh like he used to, he avoids people as much as possible, and he doesn't talk about the bad times. And by doing all those things, for a few precious seconds he can let himself... just forget."
As her words sunk in, Dillon suddenly felt very, very tired. The anger had left him, leaving him feeling drained and empty, a slow numbness sinking into all of his limbs. Tenaya gently grasped his elbow and guided him out of the garage and into the kitchen, pushing him into one of the seats. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face in exhaustion. He heard Tenaya moving around the room and caught the scent of coffee. He opened one eye when something warm was placed next to his arm, staring at the swirling pitch black liquid. "Is coffee your solution to everything?" he asked without any real bite.
"Only when it involves Ziggy." she answered.
Dillon pressed his lips together, memories from the battle they had just returned from playing in his head. The Grinders had returned, forcing most of them back and separating Ziggy from his team. He hadn't seemed to notice, his eyes never straying from the other Dillon. And then, like some unspoken signal had been given, the two had started fighting. What had looked like an elegant dance during training had turned deadly in real battle as the two traded blows. Ziggy was much faster than he remembered and he had learned how to harness his momentum to give him the strength he lacked. It helped bridge the gap the Venjix upgrades created between him and his opponent.
But there had been something in every hit he gave, in the look in his eyes, that was off. Something that chilled him to the bone as he had watched. And now, thinking back on it, he realized what it was. "He's trying to kill me." He recognized.
Tenaya paused, then slid into the seat next to him. "It because he knows you too well." she whispered. And just how was that supposed to comfort him? "For nearly a year and a half, we tried to get you back. And then, Scott and Flynn died... you killed them." Her voice whispered, confirming his worst fears. "And Ziggy knew, he knew, that even if we could bring you back, you wouldn't want us to. He knew that after that, you would never be able to live with yourself. He ordered us to stop trying to save you."
He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the image of Ziggy looking at him with those sad, dead brown eyes as he told them the three missing members of their team were dead. Tenaya's voice washed over him, soft but depressed, trying to make him understand. "Before that, Kat and I were trying to make an anti-virus to get rid of the control program. We were starting to make progress but after their funeral, Ziggy told us to stop. That you wouldn't want to be saved any more. We stopped working on it, buried it under other work and tried to forget about it." Her hand fell on his as she whispered, "Dillon, please." Her voice was a plea, making him raise his head towards her. But he found he couldn't look into his sister's eyes, not when he knew how much pain he'd put her through. "Please, tell me he was right. Tell me we did the right thing. Please, Dillon. Tell me I didn't give up my one chance of knowing my brother."
He thought about it. About how merely knowing he'd killed his friends and irreparably damaged the others made him sick to his stomach. Actually doing it and having to live with it every day... he didn't think he could do it. He turned his hand around to hold her slim, smooth one in his gently. He forced himself to meet her pleading gaze, hating the shadows in them. The shadows he'd put there. "You did the right thing." He assured, meaning it with every once of his being.
---
He walked the halls late that night, unable to sleep with all the thoughts now running through his head. This team was broken and bleeding. Irreplaceable members, people that were basically family, were dead. The remaining members were clinging tight to what was left of their little family, doing what ever they could to forget the deaths had ever happened, to pretend that everything was okay. And the team leader, his sweet, innocent, beautiful Ziggy, was a broken, shattered mess on the verge of a complete nervous break-down. And it was all his fault.
'They don't call them nervous break-downs anymore.' Ziggy's voice whispered, ghosting down the dark, lifeless halls. He jerked, glancing wildly around him. There was nothing around. Then he realized he hadn't actually heard him with his ears. It had all been in his mind. 'They call them severe depressive episodes.' Ziggy continued.
And either he was finally losing it in this very wrong future world or Ziggy was screwing with him. He remembered what Kat had told him that morning, that Ziggy could project his thoughts into other people's heads. "Can you not do that?" he hissed lowly.
'Yes. But then I can't correct you.' Ziggy replied, seemingly nonplussed. 'And I am not on the verge of a mental break-down. I've already had two, I refuse to have another.'
That urge to hit the younger man came back, making him grind his teeth. He walked quickly down to the bottom floor, somehow knowing where Ziggy was. He stalked into the training room, stopping at the sight before him. He felt his breath suddenly catch in his throat and he lost his train of thought. Ziggy was moving deftly across the room, his bare feet sliding gracefully over the practice mats. He was dressed in black sweat pants and a green sleeveless shirt, his hair tied back in a ponytail. There was just the slightest hint of sweat on his brow, making his skin seem to glow. He was moving through a kata seamlessly, his body twisting as he swung a roundhouse kick through the air with such force that he didn't doubt that it would send a Grinder flying even without being morphed.
He walked forward, intending to confront the person that had once been his best friend. The best friend he no longer knew anything about. Ziggy spun suddenly, his foot flying towards him. He reacted automatically, grabbing his ankle and jerking him forward, off-balance. Ziggy tumbled forward, crashing against his chest. Dillon caught him, steadying him quickly, his first reflex being to apologize. "I'm sorry Zig." he said without thinking. "You startled me."
Ziggy sighed, his breath ruffling his shirt. "Don't apologize. It’s a sign of weakness." He said in a tone that meant the words were also reflex, something he'd gotten used to saying. It took only a second for him to remember just who he was talking to though because he jerked back, his hand pushing against his chest. "Let me go." He ordered with a surprisingly strong authority, reminding him that Ziggy had been team leader for quite a while now.
He backed off, watching as the young man took three large steps away from him, his expression tense as he blew his bangs out of his face. "What are you doing down here?" he demanded, glaring at him. Dillon resisted the urge to glare back. "Couldn't sleep. You?"
"I try not to." Ziggy snapped, making Dillon wonder what had pissed him off so much. Ziggy's jaw tightened. "You did." he hissed, answering the question he hadn't said aloud. Now that he knew what he was doing, Dillon really hated it. "Stop reading my mind!" He hissed.
Ziggy gave one sharp, defiant shake of his head, making him growl. "Listen Grover." he snapped, finally fed up. "I have tried being nice and I have tried being sympathetic and you have not given me a single break. I just found out I killed a big part of the only family I had and that I'm still trying to kill what's left of that family and destroy the only home I've ever had. I have had one hell of a day and I'm pretty sure I'm going to completely lose it soon! I do not need your grief. So just back off!"
What happened next, he didn't expect. Ziggy hit him. Actually, flat out hit him. A precise, startlingly strong hit to his jaw. His mind shut down in shock for a split second but in that split second his body acted reflexively, punching Ziggy back. The younger Ranger stumbled away, his head turned down from the hit. Horror swept through him for a brief second, his immediate action being to think that this was Ziggy, who wasn't built like he was, who didn't have Venjix technology running through his body. Then that moment passed as he remembered this wasn't his Ziggy. If it was, he would be on the floor right now.
He watched as Ziggy raised a hand to touch his jaw, his head still turned away. Slowly he turned his head to look at him, his eyes shocked. "You hit me." He whispered breathlessly in surprise.
Dillon rolled his eyes. "You hit me." He replied sarcastically, the glare he'd been trying to hold back earlier showing through.
Ziggy nodded, his jaw tightening, "If that's how you want to play." he hissed. It was the only warning he got before Ziggy spun, launching a vicious round-house kick at his head.
He ducked on reflex, the only thing that saved his head. If Ziggy wanted to fight, he'd fight him. He punched at him, a good majority of his strength in the hit. Ziggy glided quickly around it, moving smoothly into a counter-attack. Almost immediately, Ziggy took control of the fight with surprising ease. He had been right. Ziggy's fighting style looked graceful and elegant from a distance but up close it was quick and deadly. He tried to put distance between them, knowing that if he could throw Ziggy off for even a second, he could destroy his momentum, the thing most dangerous about his technique, and gain the upper hand.
But Ziggy didn't let him, always seeming to be two steps ahead of him. Dillon had no doubt about what he was doing. He was reading his mind. "Get out of my head!" he snarled. Ziggy didn't listen, his eyes shadowed as he glided through a series of three quick point kicks. "You won't win fighting like that." The younger man whispered.
He ground his teeth together, a part of him surprised to find himself unable to shift into the offense, to busy trying to keep Ziggy from seriously hurting him. It took a few seconds for him to realize why and just what Ziggy meant.
He was holding back.
A big part of him didn't want to hurt Ziggy, his first and best friend, even if this wasn't the Ziggy he knew. It was because it was the same eyes staring out at him from beneath the long hair and if he stopped looking too hard he could remember the innocence in them, could ignore the darkness. No matter how much this Ziggy pissed him off, it was still Ziggy.
Ziggy faltered during his next punch.
Dillon took advantage of the waver, grabbing his wrist and throwing him roughly across the practice mats. Ziggy saved himself seconds before he crashed, his hands flattening on the floor as he forced himself into a flip. He landed in a crouch, jerking his head up to glare at him. Dillon saw something catch the light on Ziggy's cheeks and he froze, his eyes widening. Was Ziggy... crying? "Ziggy?" he whispered in shock.
What had happened to the normally calm, unshakable team leader? The hard, cold, almost harsh and uncaring version of his friend? Why was he crying?
Ziggy ignored the tears blurring his vision, rushing him again. Dillon found it suddenly easy to block his attacks, showing just how badly Ziggy was falling apart. Feeling horribly guilty about being the thing that finally pushed him over the edge he grabbed Ziggy's wrist, pulling him close. Ziggy beat his free hand against his chest repeatedly, his hits slowly weakening with each one. Dillon let him, knowing he needed to do it. And when Ziggy's hands were suddenly grasping desperately at the material of his shirt instead of hitting him, he pulled the now sobbing boy against him, holding him close.
The Green Ranger clung to him, tears leaking down his cheeks, his whole body shaking. Dillon felt each sob ripping itself past his throat tear at his heart and he could do little do than hold him close, unable even to say it would be okay. Because it wouldn't be. There was still a crazy, homicidal version of himself running around somewhere trying to kill them. Slowly, the boy stopping crying and slumped against him, breathing still ragged.
"You okay?" Dillon whispered. Ziggy shook his head, burying his head in his shoulder. Dillon sighed, rubbing soothing circles over the small of his back. "I'm sorry." He breathed, not sure what he was apologizing for. Ziggy pulled away slightly to try to give him a stern glare which was ruined by the tears still lingering on his cheeks. "Don't apologize. It's-" Ziggy started.
"A sign of weakness." Dillon finished for him. Ziggy's glare faded away and a small smile crossed his lips. "You're learning." he whispered. Dillon returned his slight smile and helped guide the still shaken younger man up the stairs to his room.
He rolled his eyes when he saw Ziggy's room. "I can't believe you have a window seat." He muttered to himself. Ziggy didn't hear him, walking toward his dresser and pulling out a pair of long cotton green pants and a white shirt. Dillon's eyes widened when he noticed Ziggy's hands fall to the waist band of his sweats and he respectively turned away. The shuffling of clothing met his ears and after a second or two he glanced over his shoulder at his friend. Ziggy had already changed into the sweat pants and was currently tugging on the shirt. He couldn't help but run his eyes over the smooth, unblemished skin of his back as he watched as the white cloth fall down.
He jerked his head away when Ziggy started to turn back and waited until the younger Ranger cleared his throat to turn back around. Ziggy was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes containing a knowing, amused glint. He refused to blush, returning the stare. After a minute a small smile flickered over Ziggy's face and he stretched, wiping away the remains of his tears and walking towards the bed pushed into the far corner. "Good night Dillon." he whispered.
Dillon smiled slightly, hearing hints of the boy Ziggy used to be in his tone, and turned towards the door. As he did, he noticed a glint on the dresser and looked closer. A small ball-bearing chain necklace with a wolf charm lay next to a familiar pocket watch. He walked towards the items, gently picking up the watch. "You kept it?" he asked, hearing Ziggy stop moving behind him.
"I couldn't bring myself to throw it away." Ziggy whispered. "Tried a few times. Couldn't do it."
He looked over at the younger man and gave him a small, thankful smile. "Thank you for taking care of it." he whispered. He placed it back down and nodded slightly before walking out the room. "Good night, Ziggy." he breathed as he shut the door.
Chapter 5