Chapter Seven

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Wes swore under his breath as they left the site of the fight shortly after Sordna had taken Alex away again; he had watched the three Time Force officers fight, and seen the flash of red in Alex's eyes. Obviously, Sordna had some kind of control over him, they just had to find a way to break it.

"Are you okay?" he asked Jen, taking her arm.

"Yeah . . . " she sighed. "I'm really worried about Alex though."

"I know." He put a supportive arm around her waist. "Let's get back to the house and get you fixed up."

Jen looked back at the spot where her ex-fiance had stood only a moment ago, she thought of the fierce look in Alex's eyes . . . he really hated her. She shook her head quickly, trying to clear her thoughts; no, Alex didn't hate her, he was under Sordna's control. But it was often said that the emotions expressed while under someone else's control were actually just emotions held inside . . .

She felt a chill crawl up her spine, Wes must have seen her shiver, for he placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"We'll get him back," he whispered.

"I hope so."

"You know we'll never stop trying."

Jen nodded, glancing up at him and managing a smile; she took his hand and they walked back to the others, still trying to recover their senses from the surprising attack.

"Time to get back," Wes said. "We can figure everything out once we're there."

As he spoke, an SUV pulled up and Eric stepped out from the passenger's side, wearing his SG uniform; Wes frowned and went over to his friend.

"You shouldn't be up," he scolded.

"I'm fine," Eric snapped. "So, what's the problem now?"

"They took Alex," Trip explained.

"And now he's under their control," Wisnosky added.

Eric looked at each person as they spoke, then turned his attention back to Wes. "Things never slow down, do they? Well . . . I guess we'll have to figure out a way to break this . . . spell Sordna has over Alex." He headed back to the vehicle. "Come on!"

Wes smiled slightly and jumped into the SUV beside Eric, the others piled into the back, and into the other one that had pulled up beside Eric's.

"At least let me drive," the Red Ranger offered.

"Uh-uh. You're in worse shape than me right now—" Eric eyed him carefully. "You got your ass kicked, didn't you?"

Wes smirked, looking out the window as they got onto the road and drove off; he nodded. "Yeah, I did. Remind me not to mess with Time Force again."

"I think I already did. You ignored me."

"Not surprising."

As soon as they got to the house, Trip went to his computer to look up any kind of brainwashing or spells Sordna had been known to use in the year 3000. His fingers flew across the old-fashioned keyboard, his eyes remained glued to the screen.

"Anything come up yet?" Jen asked.

"No . . . oh, wait!" Trip's face brightened. "Alex's eyes were flashed red, right? Okay, so . . . " he typed some more, then cried: "I've got it!"

"What is it?" Eric jumped from his seat on the sofa and rushed over, wincing but shrugging off the pain.

"It's not really any kind of spell," Trip answered. "It's a creature, inserted into the person by—" he shudded "—by way of the ear."

Wes took a sip of his drink as he came to stand by Eric, he said reluctantly, "Kind of like, uh, on Star Trek." That warranted him a few glares from his teammates. "No, seriously, guys! Remember? Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan."

"I remember," Eric said. "But that's a movie, Wes."

"Same idea," Wes pointed out. "Chekov and his commander were under Khan's control when he put that eel-like thing . . . anyway, when he inserted this creature into their heads by their ears."

There was a moment of silence as the others thought about Wes' words, movie or not, the plotline and their actual situation did seem similar. Jen shrugged. “And, how exactly did they get rid of this creature . . . in Star Trek?"

"Well," Eric said. "Two ways, actually. One shot himself with a phaser, killing himself. The other refused to obey Khan, and then the eel crawled out. But I doubt that counts in our situation anyway.”

"Besides," Wisnosky said. "We really don't want the commander to kill himself, obviously. And how do we make someone who wants to kill us change his mind and refuse to obey his superior's orders?"

"Life is a lot simplier in your Star Trek world," Jen said.

"We'll figure out something," Trip said optimistically. "There's got to be a way."

"Wake me up when you find it," Eric said, turning to leave.

Wes watched Eric climb up the stairs, his steps dragging a little, the CEO of the Silver Guardians looked half-dead, and Wes was grateful to see he was headed for bed. He felt someone's eyes on him and saw Jen watching him as she made her way to the kitchen while Trip worked tirelessly; he shot her a brief smile, pleased when she returned it. And he had thought his first experience with these determined Rangers was an ordeal!

'How long will she keep coming back?' he wondered. 'How many more missions are coming? How many times will we have to say good-bye?' It was worth it, he realized, just to see her again. To feel her in the middle of the night, lying next to him, to hear her soft, steady breaths and watch her watching him. The good-bye was hard, but he wouldn't trade a single moment he had shared with her.

Minutes passed, then an hour, two . . . finally, Wes decided to go to sleep; he rested his hand on the railing, steadying himself as he went up the stairs. His chest was aching horribly, as was his head, but Trip had checked him out and said the pain would soon fade . . . with rest.

Wes slowly took off his shirt and shoes, then crawled into bed and flipped off the lights; he was just closing his eyes when he heard the door creak open and saw Jen walking over to stand by him.

"Come here," he murmured.

She sat next to him, then lied down in his arms, feeling his lips press gently against the back of her neck. He took in her fresh scent, listened intently to her breathing; a small smile crept to his lips and he slept on contentedly . . .

--

He was in some sort of different dimension it seemed, everything was dark, but sometimes these glowing, white figures would come to him and take him somewhere else. There was a woman in another room, she often called for him, and he would go to her obediently . . .

He vaguely remembered a life before this one, when he was the one in charge. But it was all a blur, as most of his life was now; he was sprawled out on something, with the woman beside him, running her long fingers over his bare chest. He shivered and heard her soft voice in his head: "Are you cold?"

"No," he managed through their mind link.

"Then why did you shiver?"

"I didn't."

"You can't lie to me."

He rolled onto his side, blinking rapidly and wishing he could clear his vision; his eyes hurt, his body ached from the fight he had been in earlier that day. He had been taken to their make-shift medical facility, where a mutant who claimed to be a doctor took care of his minor injuries—broken ribs, and a broken jaw.

Her lips went to his and she kissed him hungrily, parting her lips slightly and urging him to do the same; for some reason, it felt wrong to him, but he kissed her anyway, wrapping his strong arms around her small frame. Of course, he couldn't see her, but he could sense her . . . they had a telepathic bond, that was how they communicated, he could sense the evil within her . . . her desire to destroy what she referred to as "the Rangers" when she explained to him what his mission was.

And that mission was to destroy them. She had sat with him shortly after he arrived there, although he didn't remember from where; she explained to him who they were, what they had done to her. How in the future they had manipulated her DNA and turned her into a mutant, she was shunned by society, all alone—till she met Ransik, another mutant, who took her in and cared for her as if she were his own daughter, right alongside Nadira. They deserved to pay, she told him, for their crimes.

He felt her hands run up his legs and to his waist, once there, she slowly unzipped his pants, laughing softly to herself . . .

--

Wes yawned, blinking a few times to clear his vision as he walked down the supermarket aisle and picked up a few cans of soup for himself and the others. He turned quickly and ran right into a woman standing next to him, gazing down at her face, he instantly recognized his ex-fiancee.

"Uh . . . hi."

"Hi," Ariana said coolly.

Two weeks had passed since they had broken off their engagement, not long at all; Jen walked around the corner to see Wes and Ariana facing one another, too late, Ariana saw her too.

"Jen," she said.

"Hello, Ariana." Jen went over to them, attempting a smile but failing miserably. "How've you been?"

"All right," Ariana replied, also trying to smile. "Well . . . bye."

"Bye," Wes murmured.

As Ariana disappeared down the aisle, Jen placed her hand on Wes' arm. "You didn't do anything wrong,” she said quietly.

"I just hate that I hurt her," he sighed.

"I know how you feel." Jen thought of Alex, they still hadn't found a way to help him, but they hadn't had to fight him again either . . . yet. "Come on, let's get to the check-out. But let's say we go out instead of sitting with the others and eating this horrible soup?"

"Okay."

After dropping by the house, they took Wes' motorcycle into the city and went to a quiet restaurant, where Wes often relaxed. They sat side-by-side at a table while a waitress took their orders, then she leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder as he drank his hot coffee silently.

"I will find a way to stay," her voice was barely a whisper.

"What?"

She sat up, meeting his eyes as she repeated, "I will find a way to stay. I don't want to leave you again, Wes. Not this time."

"I don't want you to either," Wes said. "But, Jen, we don't have a choice!"

"I know, I know." Jen shook her head. "My time, your time—but I'm tired of living by everyone else's rules."

"Who knows what harm may come in the future if you stay here."

"All I care about is the present—"

"That's selfish, and you know it." Wes smiled slightly. "And you don't really feel that way. I know you, Jen. You always put the needs of the others before your own. You won't stop now. Not for me. Or anyone."

"I want to." Her eyes flooded with tears as she stared at him longingly, he held her and kissed her forehead as their food was brought over, but both had lost their appetites.

"All right," Wes said. "Let's go."

"Go? Where?"

"I don't know. Somewhere." He flashed her a devilish grin. "Anywhere."

They paid quickly, then hopped on his bike again and drove away as fast as possible; before either knew it, they were on the beach where they had said what they thought was their final good-bye years ago. Wes took her hand and led her down to the water, they stood in the ocean and kissed passionately, mindless that they were now soaked through-and-through.

"I love you, Jen."

"I love you, too." She held him back for a moment and gazed at his handsome face, taking it all in. "If only I could freeze this moment . . . "

"Just live it for now, Jen," Wes told her. "Forget about everything."

And she did as he pulled her closer to him and they sank to the sandy beach . . .

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