“I want to see him.”
“I told you, he’s fine, he just passed out from blaster shock. You’re the one who was seriously injured.”
“A busted ankle and some bruises. Big deal.”
“You’re forgetting the cracked ribs and mild concussion.”
“I’ll be okay! If he’s fine, why isn’t he here?”
“Wesley...”
“Dad...”
Collins sighed. “I looked in on him as soon as the doctors said you were okay. He seemed to be resting quietly.”
“Resting quietly? Eric?” Wes sat up in his hospital bed and pushed the covers back, ignoring painful complaints from his ankle, head, and ribs as he swung his legs over the side. “Where’s his room?”
Collins stood up from his chair and hovered uncertainly. “You’re not supposed to get up!”
“Too bad.” Wes struggled upright by leaning on the bedframe and bracing a hand against the wall, fighting off a wave of dizziness and carefully testing how much weight he could put on his injured ankle, which wasn’t much. He tried to take a limping step as he glared at his father. “Where’s Eric’s room?” he asked again.
“Right down the hall. But-”
“I’m going, Dad.” Easier said than done, Wes realized as he attempted another step, or rather a hop.
“Wes... You’re going to fall. Lean on me.” Collins stepped closer.
The idea of being supported by a man who was almost eighty should have been funny, but Wes wasn’t laughing. “I’m all right,” he said peevishly. “If you want to help, get me some crutches or a wheelchair or something, will you...?” He trailed off as the angry tones of a very familiar voice came from outside the room.
“I wanna see him for myself, dammit!” The door burst open to reveal Eric, wearing a hospital robe and a furious expression, with Doggie Cruger, Sky Tate, and a small group of flustered nurses behind him. He froze for a moment in the doorway while Wes saw relief and happiness fill his face - quickly replaced by an outraged scowl. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out of bed!?” he shouted.
Wes had to admit being back in bed with his head propped up and his ankle carefully cushioned on a pillow was a good deal more comfortable than his attempt to walk had been. Eric had supervised the arrangements, but when Wes had insisted that he sit down he had looked grateful to get off his own feet. Wes’s father had taken the other chair, leaving Cruger and Sky to stand. After a minor confrontation the floor nurse had grudgingly agreed to allow Eric to stay, with dire threats of what would happen if he didn’t return to his own room in an hour.
Which left them with several questions to be asked and answered in a short amount of time. Cruger had taken over at that point and was finishing up a condensed version of what had happened that day in Newtech City.
“It turned out that Gruumm was using the diamonds and precious metals his followers had stolen - including the platinum Nightmare took from your armored car - to rebuild his ship as a mechanical body for his own master, Omni. Fortunately we were able to destroy it, and to defeat the ground troops Gruumm sent against Delta Base, and to capture Gruumm himself.” He bent a look down on Eric and Wes. “Your Lieutenant Miller and her squad of Guardians arrived in time to be of assistance. When we learned of the battle here in Silver Hills, Cadet Tate and I returned the favor. When we arrived we found only what appeared to be an empty street surrounded by Silver Guardians. Nightmare’s most effective weapons are illusion, deception, and dreams; he hid the battle from us. It’s fortunate that you two were able to overcome him long enough for us to take him prisoner.”
“Dreams,” Wes said. “I dreamed about that fight before it happened.”
“So did I,” Eric said. “A couple of times.”
Cruger continued as Wes gave Eric a surprised look. “Yes, Nightmare can use his power to confuse and frighten his opponents through their dreams. He put an image in your minds, and then tailored his illusions to match it.” He sighed. “I had hoped to keep you out of this conflict as much as possible by keeping contact between us to a minimum, but apparently Gruumm still considered you a threat.”
“Damn right we were a threat,” Eric muttered. “And what makes you think we wanted to stay ‘out of the conflict’?”
“He means this was our fight,” Sky said. “This was what SPD was all about. You had Ransik; we had Gruumm.”
“He means we’re too old.”
“I mean,” Cruger said with an admonishing glance at Sky, “You have fought and won the battle you were given your morphers for. Now you deserve the chance to move on to the rest of your lives, while others take up the struggle against evil.”
“You still mean we’re too old,” Eric muttered, but he no longer sounded angry.
“You, Bio-Lab, and the Silver Guardians have done a great deal for us, from letting Dr. Manx study your morphers to the sharing of your scientific expertise to the political and financial support Mr. Collins has given,” Cruger continued with a nod at Wes’s father. “It’s not much of a repayment, but we find ourselves with five extra morphers since the A Squad Rangers turned out to be unworthy of them. Perhaps it’s time for a team of Silver Guardian Rangers - if you’re interested, of course.”
“SG Rangers... Eric? What do you think?” Wes asked.
“I guess it’s not a bad idea.” But the eager light in Eric’s eyes said more than his words.
“Speaking of teams,” Sky said, “I have to get going. There’s still a lot to be done in Newtech City to recover from the attack, and I don’t want to stick the others with all the work.”
“Say hello to Syd and Bridge and the other Rangers for us,” Wes said as Sky stepped closer to the door. “And to your mother when you see her.”
“Roger.” Sky sketched a smiling salute.
“I must be leaving also,” Cruger said. “My wife will be waiting for my return.”
“Wife?” Eric asked. “I thought...”
“So did I. It turns out Gruumm took prisoners when he conquered and destroyed my home world. Besides Isinia, there are others he used as slaves - enough to start a small colony on Earth or some other suitable planet. They will need as much help as they can get in rebuilding our race and culture. It seems that in peace, as well as in the war that is now ended, there is a purpose to my existence.”
“Good luck,” Wes said.
“The same, and a speedy recovery to both of you.”
As they stepped outside, Collins stood also. “I think I’ll be going too. Maybe I’ll check in at Bio-Lab to make sure everything’s all right - if you don’t mind, Wes?”
“Not at all. Thanks, Dad.”
The door clicked shut, leaving them with a few moments of silence as Eric sat looking down at his morpher and Wes watched him, wondering about the serious and troubled expression on his partner’s face. Finally, “Something wrong?” he asked.
“No. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
“This.” Eric held up his arm to show the Quantum Morpher. “Maybe Cruger’s right. We’ve been Rangers for twenty-five years. You can’t give up your morpher; it’s locked to your DNA and we don’t have any way to change that. But I can unlock mine anytime I want. If we’re going to have a new team of Rangers, maybe it’s time for me to hand the Quantum Morpher over to someone younger.”
“No.” Wes reached out and took Eric’s hand, gently pushing his arm down again. “Five new Rangers are enough for now. As far as I’m concerned, there will always be only one Quantum Ranger. And you’re it. I can’t imagine anyone else in that suit.”
Eric’s fingers closed over his before they let go. “I guess you’re right. They’ll need an experienced Ranger - or two - to train them.” He smiled. “Maybe Kay Miller would make a good Red Ranger.”
“Why not?”
Again they fell into silence, that thoughtful look back on Eric’s face as he stared absently at the floor. Wes had a few thoughts himself, some of the same ones that had been on his mind for months, and some new ones. One in particular... After a pause he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were having those dreams?”
Eric’s expression was wry as he looked up. “Probably the same reasons you didn’t tell me about your dreams. I guess - we haven’t been talking to each other enough.”
“And maybe not talking about the right things.” Taking a deep breath, Wes plunged ahead. “What happened today made me think. What if one of us had been hurt really badly? The way things are now, the other one wouldn’t have any legal right to decide on medical treatment. We might even have trouble getting to see each other, since technically we’re not family.”
“Yeah, I kinda thought about that too.”
Encouraged, Wes went on. “And what if one of us died? What about a funeral, and inheritance, and so on?”
A crease appeared between Eric’s brows. “I don’t care about inheriting your money, Wes.”
“But I want you to have it. And what about Bio-Lab? Dad and I have set up our wills to leave you our shares and full control of the company if we both die, but with so much money at stake those wills could be contested. Things might be difficult for you if some people don’t think you have the right to take over.”
“If you die things are going to be difficult for me anyway.”
“Look, I’m just saying...” Wes trailed off uncertainly.
“What?”
“Well, we could hire lawyers and sign a stack of papers to take care of those things.” He took another steadying breath. “But if we got married it would all be automatic. It would just - solve so many problems that might come up.”
“If we got married.”
“Yeah. I know you don’t believe in marriage much, but there’s practical reasons for it. You could at least think about it.”
“But like you said, there’s other ways to take care of the legal stuff.” Eric looked up. “Wes - are you saying you want to get married?”
“Well...” Wes met Eric’s direct gaze. “Yes. I’ve wanted to ever since it was legalized.”
“Why didn’t you say? All this time I thought you weren’t interested because you never asked.”
Wes frowned and shrugged. “I didn’t want it to be a big problem between us, the way me wanting to move in with you was. I didn’t want to make demands.”
“And you thought I wouldn’t care about what you want?”
“No. Not exactly. I just thought you’d say no.”
“I guess - again - we weren’t talking to each other enough.” Eric bent his head so that Wes couldn’t get a good look at his face. “You’re right. I’ve never thought much of marriage, and I sure couldn’t imagine myself doing it. But I kept thinking about it more and more. All the reasons for it didn’t seem to make any sense. All the reasons against it didn’t make much sense either. But I kept coming back to one thing.”
“What’s that?”
Eric looked up and into Wes’s eyes again. “I love you.”
“That’s a coincidence,” Wes said after a moment, around the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. “I love you too.”
Eric continued his steady gaze, his expression unreadable, while Wes held his breath. Then he smiled slightly. “No fancy engagement rings. Just plain gold bands. Okay?”
“Fine with me.”
“No stupid traditions, like throwing rice, or bouquets, or garters.”
Wes was starting to grin. “No stupid traditions. Done.”
“And our names? No hyphenating. You stay Collins and I stay Myers.”
“I hadn’t really thought about it, but okay.”
“No one carries anyone over the threshold.”
“I don’t think either of our backs would stand the strain, anyway.”
“A honeymoon might be okay, though, if you want one.”
“A honeymoon would be great.”
“All right then.” Eric nodded decisively. “Let’s do it.”
Wes felt vaguely that fireworks should be going off or the earth should be moving or at least there should be a rising swell of music in the background, but there were only the faint hospital sounds of voices and footsteps from outside the room as they sat and smiled at each other. And maybe it was better that way, he realized, with only their happiness and a quiet sense of peace replacing the wanting and wondering of the last months to mark the occasion. But still, there was a small celebration that seemed appropriate. He broke the silence to say, “There’s just one tradition I’d like to follow.”
“What?”
“Don’t people usually kiss when they’ve just gotten engaged?”
Eric pulled his chair closer and leaned forward, his fingertips stroking the side of Wes’s face as Wes raised a hand in a similar caress. “I think I can go along with that one,” he murmured as their lips came together.