Disclaimer: The Power Rangers do not belong to me-they belong to Saban, I am just borrowing them for the purpose of this story. I'm not being paid for this story.
Notes and Timeline: This story follows canon up to mid Zeo period, then veers off into its own future. No Gold Ranger, no fishy girlfriend on Aquitar, etc. The events of T:APRM never happened, and Rocky is never injured.
WARNING: This story contains graphic scenes of sexual activity (m/f), including rape (m/m). If you can't handle that subject, don't read this story. You have been warned.

Tommy and Billy glanced up as Tommy's father, Roland, entered the room where the two teens were working on a school project. Though Billy had officially graduated, he still helped his friends whenever they needed assistance with schoolwork.

"What are you two boys up to?" the elder Oliver asked with a smile.

"Figuring out what exactly I'm going to need for a Biology experiment, and planning the trip this weekend to the cabin. Billy and I want to do some fishing, plus we can gather samples for my paper on 'Lichen Composition and Mutation'," Tommy explained.

"Is having Billy help you so much within the rules? Are you actually learning something?" Roland queried.

"It's okay as long as he doesn't do the work. He's just keeping me from wandering too far astray. And, yes, I'm learning a lot. Though how all this wonderful knowledge about lichen is going to help me in the future is questionable," the teen grinned.

Roland had to laugh at that. "Maybe it'll come in handy when cooking or something. Okay, boys, I guess carry on." Chuckling at the expressions that comment had created, the older man retired to the den, leaving the two teens to finish their planning.

"Hey, Billy. It's Roland Oliver. Tommy wanted me to ask if you'd come over and help him with this experiment. I guess he's having some sort of problem with it, and he's got his hands full trying to figure it out." Roland's voice was authoritative even over the phone, Billy noted subconsciously.

"Sure. But I thought he was going to Stone Canyon with his mom today," Billy replied. They'd gathered a dozen or more specimens on the weekend trip to the cabin and had planned to do the testing tomorrow.

"There was a change of plans, so I guess Tommy thought he'd get a head start on the experiment."

"Yeah, he is pretty anxious to get it done," Billy agreed with a grin. "I'll be over in ten minutes or so. Please tell him not to mess anything else up, okay?"

"Sure thing. See you in a few minutes I guess."

Tommy's father was a very successful lawyer, and the Olivers' home sat at the center of a large, secluded lot at the edge of Angel Grove, surrounded by trees and shrubs that protected the place from prying eyes. Rocky had once joked that it was the perfect home for spies or secret agents who wanted to engage in covert activities.

"It's so isolated there's no one who would be able to hear the victim's screams," Rocky had declared ominously, much to the gang's amusement.

But, Billy thought as he approached the two-story home, Rocky was right. No one could see or hear what went on there without trespassing. He felt an odd, and completely unexpected, shiver of trepidation at that thought. Guess I shouldn't have watched that horror movie last night, he mused as he rang the doorbell.

"Billy, hi. Come on in." Roland himself answered the door.

"Hi. Where's Tommy doing the testing? The kitchen?" Billy queried, heading in that direction.

"Tommy's not here," Roland replied icily.

"What? But you said..." The teen turned toward Roland with a puzzled expression.

"I lied. I needed to talk to you alone, you miserable little punk. You think I don't know what you're up to? You think I don't know what you'll do to my son? Think again, smart guy," the big man sneered as he stalked toward the startled teenager.

Billy found himself backing away from the Tommy's father, desperately trying to decide what course of action would be best. He couldn't teleport right in front of the man, but if he could slip out of sight for a few seconds he wouldn't hesitate to use that option. Roland Oliver was close to 6'2" tall, and still built like the football player he had been in college. Billy knew full well he couldn't take the man in a straight fight.

"I ... I don't know what you're talking about," the teen stammered, still retreating.

"I'm not going to let you hurt my boy. That isn't going to happen. They say an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and I intend to do some preventing."

Billy ducked away as his friend's father grabbed for him, but he wasn't quick enough. Roland managed to snatch the back of the loose-fitting shirt Billy wore and pulled the teen toward him. Grabbing the youth firmly, he bore his struggling burden toward the door that led to the basement.

Frantic, the former Ranger managed to land a hard kick to the large man's knee, throwing him off balance. Taking advantage, Billy wrenched out of his grip and raced toward the front door. Grabbing the handle, he tried to open the door only to find the deadbolt thrown. It was the work of a mere second to retract the bolt, but that second was enough. Roland roared up behind him and without warning or finesse slammed the teen's head into the wooden door. Billy collapsed unconscious at Roland's feet.

"You're going to be sorry you did that, you little shit," he said as he easily hefted the teen and headed again toward the door to the basement.

Jason was watching TV in his dorm room, his thoughts thousands of miles away. He'd just finished another session with Janette, the counselor who was provided for the teen ambassadors. Janette was there to help the teens adjust to life far away from home, to assist them in dealing with the stress of the responsibility placed upon them, and to handle any other emotional crises the youthful group might have. Jason had started going to see her a month after he arrived in Switzerland, and had continued ever since then, a period of nearly a year now.

"Yo, Jase, how're you doing?" Zack's jovial voice as he entered the room drew Jason from his thoughts.

"I'm going home," the former Red Ranger announced without preamble.

"It's time, huh?" his friend asked.

"Yeah. I won't know any peace until I take care of this once and for all. Soon as I can arrange my absence and book a flight, I'm out of here."

"If you want, Trini and I will come with you," Zack offered, his cheerful face solemn and sincere.

"No, man, you guys stay here. Keep doing good. It'll be okay. I have my folks, Billy's still there. It'll be enough."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Jason reiterated.

It had been a month after he'd started seeing Janette that Jason had finally told the truth to Zack and Trini. They'd known something was seriously wrong with their friend, but had no idea what it could be. Their reaction to his story was shock and outrage, as well as steadfast support. Jason could still remember his fear when he faced his friends to tell them what had happened. Now it was being kindled again, knowing he was going to have to tell his parents, and the police. He felt himself wavering once more and fought against it.

It was time ... past time ... for the truth to be told.

Billy regained consciousness to find himself naked and bent over the edge of some sort of table, his hands bound to the sides, his ankles to the table legs, leaving him spread obscenely open. He moaned lightly as the pain from the blow to his head made itself known.

"About time you joined the party," a sneering voice taunted him.

The former Ranger tested the bonds, dismayed to find they were very secure. As the full implications of what his position might mean struck him, he began to pull at them frantically.

"Let me go, please, let me go!" he cried out desperately. "Let me go, I haven't done anything wrong! You can't do this. Help!"

As his panic increased he ignored how the ropes abraded his wrists, focusing only on trying to get away. His mind yammered nonsense at him as he struggled, until finally Roland grew tired of watching and quickly stepped up to the table, in front of Billy, and slapped the teen sharply. The blow acted to diffuse Billy's panic for the moment, allowing him to focus on his captor.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked as the man moved behind him again. He had begun to tremble wildly as the physical reaction to his situation set in.

"I'm doing this to protect my son. You will not be allowed to harm him."

"Tommy? Why would I want to hurt Tommy? He's my friend, I don't want to hurt him in any way. What you are doing to me will hurt him a lot more than I ever could," Billy argued desperately, his mind still trying to cope with the idea that Tommy's father was doing this to him.

"I would never hurt my son! How dare you imply I would?" Roland sounded infuriated.

Billy heard an odd swooshing noise, then the sharp crack of leather against defenseless flesh, a split second before his right buttock exploded in a fierce, burning pain.

"Shit," the teen moaned as another blow was delivered to his left side. The man behind him began to beat him with an almost manic determination, quickly reducing the bound teen to hysterical cries of pain, which continued for a time after the beating stopped.

"Never, ever, say I'd hurt my son! I love my son! I'll protect him no matter what!" Roland shouted at his sobbing hostage. He began to pace about the room, mumbling at times, other times shouting, about his love for Tommy.

Billy's sobs gradually dwindled off to the occasional, hiccupping sniffle, but his eyes followed Roland's every move with obvious fear. It was clear that something was seriously amiss with Tommy's father, not even considering his having kidnapped and beaten one of his son's friends. In this state there was no telling what the man might do, how he might react. Unfortunately, Billy's active mind was working overtime providing ideas as to what might happen, with each idea being worse than the last. His breathing began to quicken into a state near hyperventilating.

The lawyer strode around the room, pacing as he would in front of a jury, his stride purposeful and strong, his hands clasped behind his back, his brow furrowed in thought. His mutterings about Tommy had finally ceased, but Billy found his silent stalking to be even more ominous. At last the big man ceased his pacing and stood staring at a glass-enclosed bookcase for several long minutes, before turning as if he'd reached a decision.

"When Tommy was a child, very young, he started to bite people when angered. Many small children do that, you know. My wife and I, we were of course concerned, and tried several methods to stop him from doing that. Do you know what finally worked? When he bit me in anger, I bit him back. Hard. Hard enough to hurt, but not enough to truly injure him. He got the message. Biting is not a good thing. The old adage about an eye for an eye, you understand. I believe in using methods that produce results," he concluded, stepping behind the bound teen again.

"Please, Mr. Oliver, please, I wouldn't hurt Tommy. I promise. I won't hurt him. Please, don't hurt me anymore. Please," Billy pleaded, panic threatening again. He hated the trembling, fearful sound of his voice, but was powerless to change it.

"I believe you are sincere, Billy. Really I do. But I have to be certain you remember, and I know just the thing to drive the message home," Roland replied, his reasonable tone oddly menacing.

Billy could hear the sound of rustling clothing, along with the heart-stopping sound of a zipper being opened. Then silence for a few moments, during which his fevered mind conjured up all sorts of horrors that his assailant could be planning. He was on the edge of hysteria when he sensed the presence of the man close behind him. Some instinct told him the older man was now as nude as he himself was, a thought that sent fresh terror through the teen.

"No, no ... you don't want to do this! This is wrong, please. Please, don't do this, please," he knew he was babbling but he couldn't help himself as he felt the large hands settle on his hips. In his terror he again tried desperately to break from the ropes binding him to the table. The sturdy piece of furniture actually bucked and rattled with the ferocity of his struggles

"Son, it's best you just keep quiet and take your medicine. Learn your lesson," Tommy's father chided the former Ranger, delivering a stinging slap to his right buttock in warning.

"God ... no ... please ... no," the teen sobbed as he felt his cheeks parted and the blunt tip of Roland's penis probing his anal area. In a last-ditch effort to prevent the inevitable he clenched his sphincter muscles as tightly as he could to prevent the unwanted penetration.

"Ah, there we are. Hold on Son, this will hurt," the lawyer warned his victim in a ludicrously cheerful voice as he lunged forward into the unprepared youth's body.

Billy shrieked in pain as the hard flesh of his attacker managed to breach the muscle at his opening. He felt the sensitive tissues tear, as the burning agony spread from his violated ass throughout his body. Roland withdrew slightly, then rammed in again even harder, driving deeper into the quivering form beneath him. It took two more lunges before he was fully imbedded in the teen, who screamed anew at each thrust.

The former Ranger could not believe the amount of pain being inflicted on him by the father of one of his best friends. He could feel a slow trickle of what he assumed was blood running down his thighs as his attacker began to thrust strongly and rhythmically into his ravaged opening, each forward plunge causing a new burst of agony. He grew hoarse from screaming, his voice finally dwindling down to a rough whimper.

Just when he finally reached a point where he believed it could not possibly get any worse, he found out it could. His humiliation was increased to an unbearable level when he realized he was getting a raging hard-on due to the stimulation the attack was causing. Somehow his body's betrayal seemed the worst thing of all.

It was an eternity until Roland started the quick, short strokes that signified approaching orgasm. He slammed forward one last time, eliciting a weary moan from his victim. With a shout of pleasure the older man collapsed on his hostage, his prick finally softening as he rested on the shaking body below him.

"That will teach you to hurt my Tommy," Roland gasped out, finally raising his body, but leaving his soft cock inside its warm cocoon. Billy's sobs increased as he felt the large hand grip his still hard cock. "What have we here? Seems you enjoyed that, didn't you? Well, I guess it's only fair that you come too, huh?" The hand began an oddly gentle stroking, which to Billy's utter shame brought on his own climax in a matter of moments. The thoroughly broken teenager collapsed limply on the table, humiliated beyond tears by this last violation.

Without further comment the man finally withdrew, stepping away from the table and silently cleaned himself up and dressed. He then turned to his son's friend, and began roughly cleaning the teen and the floor below. Tossing the towel aside, he released Billy's feet, then his hands, neatly rolling up the rope before throwing it carelessly on the table. Billy jerked off the table as soon as his hands were free, staggering weakly toward the couch where he saw his neatly folded clothes. Roland grabbed him before he reached the couch, shoving him hard against the wall and pressing his much larger body against the teen. He grabbed the teen's chin in a bruising grip and forced Billy to look up at him.

"Get out and never come back, you understand me? If I see you around here again I'll do much, much worse to you. You ever try to tell anyone about this and I'll kill you. After I kill that wimpy father of yours. And I'll tell everyone how much you enjoyed it, how I made you come. Do you want me to do that, boy?"

"N ... N ... no," Billy stammered, tears streaming down his face, his heart beating painfully in his chest. "P ... p ... please ..." Never before had he felt such terror, such humiliation.

Roland made no reply, but released his grip and stepped back with a look of contempt. As Billy turned again to go get his clothing, he clouted the teen on the back of his head, propelling him roughly to the couch. "Hurry it up!" he growled.

Billy fell beside the couch, but still reached frantically for his clothing, pulling it on as quickly as possible, hissing in pain as he donned his jeans. He was sobbing and shaking so hard he could barely move, but with tremendous force of will he finished dressing. He didn't bother to put on his shoes, just grabbed them up and ran as quickly as he could up the stairs and toward the front door, ignoring his body's protests to movement. He didn't stop until he reached the RadBug.

Tossing his shoes on the passenger floor, Billy climbed behind the wheel of his car, letting out a hoarse cry of pain as his tender backside came in contact with the seat. Ignoring the pain as much as possible, he turned on the small car and headed toward the road, concentrating on not thinking about what had just happened. His only goal was to get home and get in the shower. A creeping mental numbness seemed to settle over him as the distance from the Olivers' home increased.

The bright sunlight and mellow warmth of the day surprised him. How could it all look so normal, when everything had changed? When nothing could ever be the same again?

Lawrence Cranston was lucky enough to get off work early for once, and was looking forward to a quiet, relaxing afternoon at home. The store he managed was doing a storewide inventory and had closed early to allow the company doing the inventory full access to all the stock.

As he pulled in the driveway he noticed his son's VW parked in its usual spot, albeit a bit more at an angle than was usual for Billy. He just shrugged, figuring his son must have been in a hurry when parking. The slight man entered his home and headed up the stairs to change into something more comfortable, looking forward to settling down with a good book and a glass of ice tea. Deciding a warm shower would help him to relax, he grabbed a change of clothes and strode quickly to the bathroom. He started to remove his tie when he noticed a pile of dirty laundry left carelessly on the floor, a practice he had tried repeatedly to break his son of. With an exasperated sigh he picked up the clothes and turned to take them to the laundry chute in the hallway when he noticed something that made his heart stutter painfully.

There was blood on his son's clothing. More specifically, there was blood, a lot of it, on his boxer shorts. Lawrence dropped the clothes and examined the boxers more closely. The blood had saturated the cloth to such a degree they were still a little tacky. Numbly he picked up the jeans and examined them, too. They were also bloodstained in the seat, quite badly in fact.

"Oh, my God," he whispered to himself. He turned toward the closed door of his son's room, his chest tight with fear.

Entering without knocking he saw that the bed, covered with what looked to be two or three extra blankets, was occupied. Approaching carefully, he began peeling back layers of coverings until he found his son, curled into a fetal position and shivering uncontrollably despite the thick covers.

"Billy? Billy, what happened? Come on, Son, let me help you," he said gently, reaching out toward the obviously distraught teen. Though by nature a gentle man, Lawrence was not naïve; he suspected what had happened to his son, and knew it would be difficult to deal with. The first step would be making sure his physical injuries were properly treated. He could see a painful-looking, swollen bruise on Billy's forehead, sending tendrils of discoloration downward to darken the flesh around the frightened blue eyes. Billy, barely aware, flinched back from his father's touch.

"Son? Son, I'm going to go call the ambulance. I'm going to get you help, you're going to be okay. You have to believe that. No matter what has happened, you will be okay," he murmured gently before rising to go make the call. A coldly logical segment of his mind noted dispassionately that he was himself in shock, but the same cool logic that recognized that also realized the shock could be used. It muted his pain, his fear, his horror at his son's injuries, allowing him to do what was necessary for Billy. He remembered only one other time when he had felt this way, that being when his father had died two months before his seventeenth birthday, keeling over from a first, fatal heart attack a half hour after dinner.

Within minutes the paramedics arrived, moving briskly into the teen's bedroom. Lawrence spoke softly to them, telling them of his suspicions, showing them the clothing he'd found. The older paramedic produced a plastic bag and took the clothing for evidence while his younger, female partner began to uncover Billy, speaking soothingly as she worked.

"Billy? Billy, you are going to have to let go of this blanket. I'm sorry, but we have to get it out of our way. Come on, let it go, let us help you. We don't want to hurt you, we're here to help. That's good, Billy, good. Let's see if we can get you on the gurney, okay?" Using a combination of cajoling and ordering she managed to get the traumatized teen out of the bed and onto the waiting stretcher. Billy seemed to be okay until they tried to strap him in, then all hell broke loose.

With an inarticulate cry of fear and rage, Billy thrashed out at the paramedics, trying to get away from them in a blind panic. By that time the ambulance driver had arrived, along with a police officer, alerted by the paramedics that they were possibly dealing with the victim of a crime. The female paramedic, ambulance driver, and police officer all struggled to restrain the panicked teenager while the other paramedic called the hospital for instructions. Moments later he approached with a syringe and administered a shot that quickly subdued Billy. Panting from their efforts they efficiently strapped the now compliant youth safely on the gurney.

"Look at this," the young woman paramedic said softly, indicating Billy's wrist. "He's been bound, no wonder he panicked. Poor kid, we must have terrified him, trying to tie him down like that."

"I know, Cindy, but it has to be done. It's never easy, cases like this," her older partner sighed. He had two sons at home not much younger than Billy. "Let's just send the kid on in, the doctors are ready and waiting."

Lawrence Cranston had watched them struggle with his son without comment or movement, his entire being numb with horror. Finally he managed to gather enough concentration to listen to the police officer, who regarded him with no small amount of sympathy.

"Sir, they're taking him to Angel Grove Memorial Hospital. Can I call someone to drive you there? I don't feel it would be safe to send you alone." The officer's tone was gentle, but firm.

"I guess maybe Joe Scott if he's available. If not, I should be fine to drive alone," Lawrence declared.

"Detective Scott? That Joe Scott?"

"Yes. He's a friend," Lawrence said with a puzzled frown. Why was this guy asking him about his friends when he son needed him?

"Good. Wait just a minute while I call Joe."

Lawrence looked around the now empty bedroom, feeling oddly disassociated. A small corner of his mind recognized that he was in a state of shock, but he found it hard to understand how that could be. The only things that seemed clear were that his son had been hurt, and that he needed him. The elder Cranston headed toward the front door, intending to go to his son, regardless of the policeman's instructions.

"Hold up, sir. Please, just wait here a minute, Joe's on his way. He'll pick you up in just a couple of minutes. You aren't going to do Billy any favors if you get yourself killed on the way to the hospital. Let's just wait here by the curb for Joe."

The officer was polite, but insistent, as he led Lawrence to the curb at the front of the modest home. He didn't attempt to engage the worried father in conversation, but stood quietly beside him, offering whatever slight support he could. He was very grateful when he saw Joe's sedan approaching, however; Lawrence Cranston's silent brooding was getting on his nerves.

"Joe, thanks for coming," the smaller man said quietly.

"Come on, Lawrence, let's get to the hospital and find out what's happened," the burly detective said gently, leaning over to open the passenger door for his friend.

Whenever the two men went somewhere in public together, they usually got their fair share of odd looks. While Lawrence was short, slender, and fair, Joseph Scott was tall, burly, and dark. It was quite obvious where Jason Scott got his looks and physique.

"I'm all too afraid I know what happened," Lawrence replied in a toneless voice.

"Then we'll find out who did it, and make sure it doesn't ever happen again," his friend said firmly. "Claire's on duty today, she'll keep us informed on how he's doing. He'll be okay, Billy's a lot stronger than you think he is." The detective hoped he sounded more certain than he felt. He'd gotten a quick report on how Billy had responded to the paramedics, and the physical evidence they could see at that point. He knew the boy well enough to know this would be devastating to the self-confidence he'd so recently developed.

"I hope you're right, Joe. I just hope you're right," the worried father responded. He then turned inward, returning to his silent brooding, as they drew nearer the hospital.

Claire Scott was waiting anxiously for the ambulance, knowing only that the victim of a possible assault was arriving, not the victim's identity. She had worked hard at the additional training needed to work the trauma unit of the ER, and her focus had included treatment of sexual assault victims. Consequently, she was slated to head the nursing team for the incoming case, her first one since completing her supplementary training two months before. Much as she enjoyed her work, she was grateful that in Angel Grove she didn't have much reason to use it.

The doors banged open as the attendants wheeled in the patient, jockeying the gurney expertly up to the side of the examination table. Dropping one side rail, they quickly released the straps securing the still body and with practiced precision they transferred the patient to the examination table then whisked away the ambulance's equipment. Dr. Stanley and Claire stepped up ready to begin the examination, when Claire finally got a good look at the pale face on the pillow.

"Billy!" she gasped.

"You know this boy?" the doctor asked quietly.

"Yes. He's one of my son's best friends. I've known him for years."

"Will you be okay to work on this, Claire? There's no shame in asking to step aside, there's plenty of help available in this case."

Claire fixed Dr. Stanley with a steady look. She was shaken, but she was also a professional and damned proud of that. "I'm fine. Let's see what we have here." She reached for the blanket covering the teen, all business.

"Note in the file that the patient was given a sedative at the scene," Dr. Stanley began, rattling off the name of the drug and dosage administered. He and Claire worked quickly to strip the pliant teen, who seemed to be caught in a twilight state somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. Once the clothing had been removed, they carefully rolled Billy onto his side.

"Damn. Bring in a rape kit," the doctor ordered briskly. The condition of the boy's buttocks, the bruises at his hips, and the blood-soaked gauze they could see in his anus left no doubt as to what had happened. "Who packed his injury like this?" he demanded.

"Don't know. May have been the kid himself. We didn't do that close an exam, we had enough trouble just getting him on the gurney," Cindy said from where she and her partner were watching, waiting to see if they would be needed.

"Anyone know how long he was home? How long ago this might have happened?"

"The father came home and found the boy in this condition, about a half hour ago, I believe."

"Damn. Okay, I guess we're going to need some photos, too. Get the camera in here, get a couple of shots, and let us get on with helping him," Dr. Stanley ordered, already starting to take the samples needed for the police.

Claire did her job efficiently, pushing her sorrow and horror back, focusing on doing what needed to be done. There would be time for her feelings later. Much later.

"Mr. Cranston?"

Lawrence looked up into the sympathetic eyes of the middle-aged doctor standing by his chair. "Yes, that's me."

"Why don't you come along with me, and we'll talk about what happened to your son."

"Lawrence, do you want me to come along?" Joe asked gently.

"I suppose it would be a good idea. You'll need to know for the police report anyway, won't you?" he replied after a moment's consideration.

"Actually, yes."

The two men followed the doctor to a small, cluttered office and closed the door.

"I'm sure you both have already figured out that Billy had been assaulted," the doctor stated, his voice businesslike but his expression sympathetic. "Someone, or someones, sodomized him with considerable force. There is a good amount of tearing around the anal area, as well as extensive internal and external bruising. In addition it appears he was beaten fairly severely, with a belt or strap. There are abrasions at both wrists and ankles, indicating he was bound during the assault. He also has a mild concussion due to the head injury. Despite how it sounds, he should make a full, and actually fairly rapid, recovery. At least physically. As for his mental state, I would like to have a rape crisis counselor visit him in the morning. I also want to admit him overnight for observation. I expect the bleeding to stop completely, but I need to be sure before I send him home." The doctor turned his attention to the detective. "Joe, we did a rape kit, but I suspect there is little there for you to use. It appears the attacker used a condom. I already turned over what we got to the uniform that responded to the scene." He addressed Lawrence again. "Do you have any questions?"

"Can I see Billy?" The man's face was deathly pale, tinged a bit green.

"Give us a few minutes to get him settled, okay? He's still under the influence of the sedative, as well as still a bit shocky. We'll be keeping a close eye on that, but for now it appears he's gradually coming out of it. I'm so sorry this has happened." He laid a gentle hand on Lawrence's shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered. He suddenly stood up and bolted for the door. "Excuse me."

"Down the hall and toward the right," Dr Stanley called after the retreating figure. "Marcia! Make sure he gets there okay," he ordered a passing nurse, who hurried off after the retching man.

"Damn, but I hate these sorts of cases. What's this kid like, Joe?"

"He's a good one, Ed. One of the best. Honors student. Hell, he's got an IQ that reaches the stratosphere. A nice kid, never been a problem to anyone. Quiet, shy, though he's finally started coming out of his shell some in the last couple years. Now this. Why the hell would someone want to hurt him this way?" The burly detective slammed his fist into the wall in frustrated anger.

"Easy, Joe. You know there's often no real answer to that question. Oh, by the way, Claire worked on this one. Did a fine job setting aside her feelings, professional all the way. But I expect it will hit her hard later. I think I'll suggest she goes home early. In case you want to be there."

"Thanks, Ed. I will. Soon as I make sure Lawrence is okay. This hit him harder still."

"Yeah. Where's the kid's mom, anyway?"

"Divorced and gone years ago. She's never kept in touch, never tried to. They haven't seen her in nearly fifteen years."

"An original tough-luck family, huh?"

"Seems like it," Joe agreed sadly.

Billy floated in darkness, at long last feeling warm, and safe, in a hidden place the pain couldn't reach. He remembered the events at the Olivers' quite clearly, but now they seemed more like something he'd seen on TV or read in a book. He could also vaguely recall seeing his father's face; pale and worried. A pretty young woman who was nice at first, then wanted to tie him down to do bad things to him again. Another pretty lady he recognized, sort of, she was someone important in his life, though at the moment he had no idea why. Then lights, lots of lights, some flashing, some steady, and a different sort of probing pain. Voices talking nonsense around him, until finally they faded into nothing. He liked the nothing. It was quiet there, calm. He could forget things there.

He drifted.

Jason looked out the window of the airplane with a moody expression.

He was considering the difference between this flight, and the one that took him to Switzerland in the first place. Then he'd been running, though he couldn't have admitted it then. Running away from Angel Grove, and from what had happened to him there. Convinced that each mile he traveled would free him somehow from the memories, not understanding that the memories had boarded the plane with him. It had taken time - and work - a year of it, to give him the wisdom to see his error. Now it was time to finish the healing, and just maybe to exact a bit of revenge.

He'd been surprised that his parents seemed less than enthused by his desire to return home for an extended visit. His mom had even hinted it would be better later in the year, but the teen had stood firm. He wanted ... needed ... to come home.

The seatbelt sign lit up as the stewardess went down the aisle, informing the passengers they needed to buckle up for the final approach to Angel Grove. Jason had cleared customs at LAX, then hopped a small connecting flight straight to Angel Grove, rather than have his parents drive to the larger airport in the big city.

Looking down on the town he'd grown up in, Jason felt a strange combination of elation and fear. It had been a busy year, he'd changed so much, learned so much; not all of it good. But still, this sprawling collection of mostly modest homes and small businesses was now, and would always be, he supposed, his home. And regardless of any other circumstances, it still felt good to come home.

His parents were standing right at the gate, huge smiles on their faces, alleviating his lingering doubts about coming home. In fact, it seemed they clung to him a little more than usual.

"Oh, man, it's so good to see you both," he grinned, releasing them at last.

"It's good to have you home. We've missed you. My gosh, you look great!" Claire gushed, reaching up to caress his cheek gently, her smile warm and glad.

"Thanks, Mom. Guess I should grab my luggage and we can get out of here. I've seen enough of airports, that's for sure."

It was a matter of only a few minutes to collect Jason's bags and load them in the car. The drive home was enlivened by Jason's accounts of life at the ambassadors' dorms in Switzerland, the different customs he'd encountered, the projects the teens were involved in to make the future a brighter place to live. He sprinkled his account liberally with anecdotes concerning their cultural misunderstandings, which soon had both his parents laughing.

Once home Jason quickly unpacked, then headed to the kitchen where his parents were sitting, talking quietly. He planned to take a day or two to settle in before telling his parents about what had happened to him before he'd left for Switzerland. Though happy to be home again, it also made him feel a bit more vulnerable, and he needed to get past that before talking to them. In short, he needed to feel at home again.

"I don't know what to do first. Visit the Youth Center for a smoothie? Go to the park? Maybe I'll call Billy and Tommy and have them meet me at the Youth Center, I've missed hanging out with them," he rambled on as he reached in the refrigerator for a soda. With his attention focused on finding his favorite soda, he missed the pained glance his parents exchanged.

"Jason, come here and sit down for a minute please," his dad requested, his voice sounding strained.

"Sure." The teen took a good look at his parents, suddenly feeling a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "What's wrong?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen them look so grim, and suddenly Jason felt a chill despite the warmth in the sunny kitchen.

Joe and Claire exchanged a worried look, wondering again just how to tell their teenage son that one of his friends had been the victim of rape. Joe took a deep breath and decided all he could do is plunge on ahead and get it over with.

"Son, there's not easy way to do this, and I don't think I need to tell you that what you are about to hear is to remain confidential. Billy was assaulted a few days ago," Joe told his son, worried when the teen blanched.

"Assaulted? You mean beaten?" Please, tell me it was just another beating. Bullies, or a monster, or something ...

"Beaten and raped," Claire said softly, taking one of Jason's hands in her own.

"R ... raped? Are you sure?" The words felt like shattered glass in his mouth.

"Very sure. I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, Jason," Claire said, tightening her grip on her son's now limp hand.

"Is he okay? I mean, is he home now?" Please tell me he's okay!

"Yes, he's home. And according to Lawrence he's doing much better, talking, alert," his mother reported, her optimistic words at odds with the sorrow in her eyes.

"Did ... did he say who ... who ..." He couldn't complete the question; the words simply wouldn't come.

"Not yet. We've been trying to get that information, but he refuses to say. I imagine whoever the animal was, he scared Billy pretty badly. Or the blow to his head may have caused a minor, temporary memory loss, that happens often enough. I hope with some time, some therapy, he'll be able to tell us. I want to get this guy, whoever he is," Joe declared, looking out the kitchen window with a stormy expression.

"Can I go see him?" Jason asked, trying to keep his voice steady. If his parents saw how freaked he was, they'd never let him go.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Jason. Are you certain you're up to that today? You just got back, and you look a little shell-shocked at the moment," Claire decided, giving her son a searching look. He was a bit pale, but otherwise looking calm enough.

"I'm fine, Mom. And I'd really like to see him." I have to see him ... have to know ... I can't wait for later ... I need to know NOW ...

"Well, just check in with Lawrence first; make sure Billy's up to company. And don't stay too long," Claire instructed him, relieved he'd taken the news as calmly as he had.

Jason couldn't help the rueful grin at his mom's words. It was good to know that some things didn't change, like motherly advice. She'd been telling him to 'not stay too long' since he was a toddler.

"Don't worry, Mom, I won't."

Jason approached the Cranston house slowly, his heart pounding painfully, and with what felt like a lead ball rolling in his stomach. Ever since his parents had told him what happened to his oldest friend, he'd felt tears threatening every time he lowered his control enough to speak, regardless of the subject. Now standing on the sidewalk outside the home where he'd spent a good portion of his childhood, he felt dread, shame, and a terrible guilt. He found it took all of his considerable courage to simply walk up the front steps and ring the doorbell.

"Jason. I wasn't expecting to see you here," Lawrence said, his pleasure at seeing the teen obviously muted by other sorrows and worries.

"I just got back. Can I see Billy?" he asked before his nerve could fail.

"I don't know, Jason. He's not feeling very well," the older man started.

"I .. um ... I know what happened. My folks told me. I'd really like to see him," Jason pleaded quietly.

Lawrence considered the teenager standing in front of him. Jason and Billy had been friends since both boys were four years old; they'd grown up together, at times seeming closer than brothers despite their very different personalities. The elder Cranston was well aware of Jason's tendency to be protective of his friend, and was confident that he would not do anything to upset Billy's still fragile emotional state.

"Okay, Jason, I think that may be a good idea, actually. The doctor said he needed to start seeing people again, to quit isolating himself. And to be honest, I need to run some errands and am not completely comfortable leaving him here alone. But I'm trusting you not to upset Billy. He's been through enough; I won't have him being disturbed more than he already is. Don't ask him questions, don't try to get him to talk about it. Understand?" Jason could not recall ever hearing such a stern tone from the easy-going man.

"I understand. I'll try not to upset him any," he promised. "Is he in his room?"

"Yes, go on up." Lawrence gave Jason one of the saddest smiles the teen had ever seen before turning and plodding toward his home office. Jason gazed after the retreating figure for a moment, then headed up the stairs toward Billy's bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar, so Jason tapped it lightly before sticking his head inside the room. "Okay if I come in?"

Billy looked up from the book he'd been reading and the look in those blue eyes nearly broke Jason's heart. It was a look he'd seen before, far too many times, when he looked in a mirror this past year.

"God, Billy ..." he began.

"Jason," the soft, still hoarse voice overrode his. "Did my dad let you in?"

"Yeah. I needed to see you. My folks told me what happened, I had to talk to you," the burly young man replied, finally looking away from the haunted eyes of his friend.

Billy sighed softly. "Why? What was so important?"

Jason entered the room, closing the door behind him, and sat on the chair by the bed, fixing his gaze on the tormented blue orbs before him and taking a deep breath.

"Did Roland Oliver do this?"

If Jason had physically struck the other boy, the reaction could not have been more severe. Billy flinched back away from Jason, a look of terror on his face.

"It's okay, Billy. It's okay. Please, calm down, it's okay," Jason pleaded with him quietly, startled by his friend's panic. He wanted desperately to reach out to the frightened teen, to touch him, to offer him at least the comfort of an embrace, but knew too well that would not be a good idea.

"How ... how did you know? Who told you?" Billy looked at Jason with a desperate sort of fear.

"No one told me, Bro. I know because ... because he did it to me, too. Shortly before we left for Switzerland." Jason spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact manner, watching Billy's reaction closely, nearly holding his breath waiting to see how he'd respond.

Billy's face reflected his shock at this revelation. Jason had been raped? That just didn't seem possible. Jason was the strong one, no one could take advantage of him. The tormented eyes searched Jason's intently, as if trying to see deep within the other young man, seeking a truth or assurance only he could identify. "I ... I ... I never knew," he said at last.

"No one did. My parents still don't know, though I intend to tell them later today. I hid my injuries, pretended it didn't happen. Almost convinced myself, until everything fell apart in Geneva. I've been in therapy since then, it's helped a lot." He kept his tone soothing and even, hoping it would help keep Billy calm.

Billy dropped his gaze to the book he held closed in his hands. "That's what I'd wanted to do, but somehow I couldn't. I couldn't stop shaking, couldn't move. Dad found me before I could get myself together." He spoke so softly Jason could barely make out the words, though the shame his friend felt came through loud and clear.

"Billy," he reached out and put a comforting hand on the pale forearm, ignoring how the teen flinched at his touch. "There's no shame in being so injured you can't hide it. It wasn't something you had any control over. And remember, I was still an active Ranger when it happened. I had that Ranger healing factor working for me. You didn't. You could have ended up with an infection that would have made you incredibly sick, possibly even killed you. It's better your dad found you and got you treatment."

"Is it?"

Jason prayed he hadn't heard that one correctly.

"Billy, you're alive. And I know it's hard to believe right now, but it will get better, I promise you. It will get better. And I'll be here for you, as long and as much as you need me. Bro, you aren't alone. You'll never be alone." He tightened his grip on Billy's arm to emphasize his point.

Again the light-haired teen searched the midnight-dark eyes of the former Ranger leader, seeking reassurance that the friend he'd always trusted was being sincere. After a few moments it seemed he found whatever it was he was looking for, and the blue eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you." It was the faintest of whispers, but filled Jason's heart with renewed hope. Billy would try, and Jason was certain that, as always, if Billy tried he'd ultimately succeed. The former Blue Ranger was noted for his tenacity.

They sat silently for a while, both struggling to contain their feelings. Jason sensed that Billy was comfortable with him being there, which was one of the things he'd hoped to accomplish with this visit. Finally Billy glanced up at his friend.

"Why'd you come home? If I had a chance of not coming back here again, I'd take it."

"I came home because I need to tell my parents what happened. They have a right to know, and frankly, I don't like keeping things from them. Plus, I'm going to report it to the police." Again the deep brown eyes searched the haggard face of his friend, gauging his reaction.

"You're going to report it?" Billy looked at Jason fearfully.

"Yeah. It's been over a year, but it needs to be on record that it happened, even if it's too late to do anything about it, you know? When it happened, I was so scared ... Mr. Oliver had threatened to kill me, kill my parents, if I told anyone. It took a long time for me to realize that was unrealistic. He wouldn't really be able to do that, especially if I told the police about the threats. Think about it. If I report it, anything even looks like it's going to happen to my parents, he'll get hauled in. They're probably safer with me reporting it than they were when I didn't." He let Billy think about that for a moment, then spoke again.

"You could come with me." He hadn't originally intended to ask that, but Billy's reactions so far had encouraged him. He was reminded anew of something he'd learned early on in their Ranger careers. Billy might be small, quiet, bookish and shy, but he was also one of the most courageous people Jason knew. Especially when it came to choosing to do the right thing.

"I don't know, Jason. I don't know if I can bring myself to talk about it." The former Blue Ranger looked down, ashamed once more.

"You can try, it may help you a lot. And probably all you really need to tell the police is who. They have the report from the hospital; they know what was done. Tell them who, and how he tricked you, and that may be enough for a start. Billy, I ... I wasn't quick enough to save you, but who may be next? Rocky? Adam? One of the girls? I can't stand the thought that someone else will fall prey to him." Jason ran one big hand through his close-cropped hair, his expression tormented.

"I didn't think of that." Billy's gaze wandered to the window, looking at the sunlit street below without seeing. Finally he let out a weary sigh, much like a person preparing to shoulder a heavy load. "Okay. I'll try."

The familiarity of the police station was oddly comforting to Jason. He'd been a frequent visitor in his childhood, taking any opportunity to visit his father at work, basking in the camaraderie the officers shared. For their part, the officers all liked Joe Scott's well-behaved son, making him an honorary detective when the boy was ten, and always asking when he was going to go to the police academy. It was Jason's secret desire to actually become a detective, like his father, though he'd not told his parents that, knowing they hoped he'd choose a safer profession.

But he'd never before come on official business, so he was a bit nervous as to how his father's coworkers would react. He looked around the busy station, recognizing most of the faces he encountered. He locked eyes with a tall, slender white-haired man who approached casually. Jason was aware that Detective Johnson knew Billy, and hoped he'd guess what they'd come for without them having to explain a lot out here in the reception area.

"Hi Jason, Billy. What can I do for you boys?" the older man asked in a pleasant voice.

"We're here to make statements," Jason replied softly, assuming the man knew about what had happened to Billy.

"Come on in." Johnson opened the small gate that led into the bullpen, looking curiously at Jason. When he'd spotted Billy with Jason, he'd hoped the boy was here to make a statement, but now he wondered what was up. He led the two of them to his desk in the corner and indicated the two chairs.

"Have a seat, boys. Billy, are you here to talk about what happened Saturday?" he asked gently.

"Yes, sir," was the faint reply.

"Good. We really want to get this guy, and I appreciate how hard this must be for you. I'm going to have you talk to Officer Romano, okay? She'll take your statement and answer any questions you have. Now, Jason, what about you? Why are you here?" He turned his attention to the dark-haired teen.

"I need to make a statement, too," Jason replied hesitantly, past the tightness in his throat. Now that he was actually here, he was finding it harder than he'd expected.

"A statement regarding what?" the officer prompted carefully, hoping the answer wasn't what he suddenly suspected it was.

"Same crime, but a year ago," the youth replied, unable to meet the detective's eyes.

"Okay. Hmm ... you be okay talking to Jerry?" Johnson asked after looking around at who was available. Though his face remained impassive, he felt a surge of anger and sorrow that Jason had something like this to report.

"Yeah, that's fine." At that point Jason didn't much care who he talked to, he just wanted it be done.

"Okay boys, sit tight while I get things set up." With a reassuring look at the two teens the detective went to make the arrangements, leaving them sitting together in the quiet corner.

"You okay?" Jason asked his friend softly.

"I think so. Scared. You're sure this is the right thing to do?" Billy was looking paler than he'd been before.

"I'm sure. Look, I know Angie Romano; she's nice. She won't harass you or anything, so you just tell her what you can, okay? And I'll be nearby if you need me. Just a few minutes and it'll be over and we can go home." Jason tried to sound more confident than he felt. When he saw the two officers approaching he sat back in his chair, suddenly nervous again.

"Billy? I'm Angie Romano, I'll be taking your statement. Why don't you come on with me to where we can have some privacy." She indicated one of the smaller interview rooms that lined the far side of the large bullpen area.

The former Blue Ranger looked over at Jason with a worried expression as he reluctantly rose to his feet. The dark-haired teen gave him a reassuring smile, hoping desperately Billy could do this.

He watched his friend, looking somehow small and forlorn, follow the pretty officer, then turned his attention back to the redheaded officer still standing by his chair.

"Ready, Jason?" Jerry O'Brien asked.

"Not really, but let's do it anyway."

Joe Scott was indulging in a rare bout of idleness on the front porch, sipping an iced tea and watching the grass grow. He'd almost dozed off when some slight sound alerted him to someone coming near. He opened his eyes to see Jason plodding up the front walk as if reluctant to come home. It struck him that his son appeared to have aged quite a bit in the last year; he seemed somehow much older than the passing of thirteen months could account for.

"How'd it go with Billy?" he asked his son, figuring Jason's apparent depression was due to his friend's condition.

"Fine. It went okay. Is Mom home?" At Joe's nod Jason continued. "Good. I need to talk to you guys. It's ... it's important."

"Sure thing. Come on, she's in the den watching TV, I think," Joe replied, not liking the expression he saw on the young/old face.

They walked without speaking to the cheerful den where Claire sat, watching a talk show and latch-hooking a rug. Under her tireless fingers a field of spring flowers was slowly evolving. She looked up with a smile as her husband and son entered.

"Decided to come in out of the heat, huh?" she asked cheerfully, turning off the television.

"Jason wants to talk to us," Joe explained with an expression that sobered his wife as he sat down beside her, while Jason seated himself on the low stool in front of them.

The teen stared at the floor for a few moments, collecting his thoughts and gathering the courage to hurt his parents the way he knew this would. He was quiet so long his mother finally couldn't stand it any longer.

"Jason, please. Whatever it is, you can tell us," she encouraged him, leaning forward to place her hand on his knee.

"Last year, before I left for Geneva, I got a call from Tommy's dad," he began at last, still unable to look at his parents. "He told me he'd gotten Tommy a new set of weights for his birthday and wanted my help in setting them up. I said 'sure', and went on over to help, kind of excited that I was part of a surprise I knew Tommy would like. Mr. Oliver let me in and told me he was setting them up in the basement, so I headed on down there. I remember this strange smell, I didn't know what it was, then a damp rag was put over my mouth and nose and everything went black." He took a deep breath, his eyes still fastened on the worn carpet in front of him. "When I woke up I was tied to a table. My clothes were g-gone. He ... he said I ... I couldn't hurt Tommy. He w-wouldn't let m-me. Then he ... he ..." Jason heard his mom give a gasping sob and his control, which he'd held on to so fiercely all day, finally gave way.

He looked up to meet his mom's tearful eyes as she reached out to him. Somehow he ended up on the couch, between his parents, sobbing in his mother's arms while his father rubbed his shoulders reassuringly.

Claire Scott held on to Jason with the desperation of a mother whose child has been terribly hurt. How could this have happened without us realizing it? How could he have been so hurt and not let us help? Her mind and heart struggled with confusion and sorrow even as she offered comfort.

"Shhh ... it's okay, Jason, it's okay," she crooned that universal mantra of parents everywhere.

"I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry," he choked out, trying to regain his control.

It was several minutes before the teen's tears tapered off, leaving him exhausted, slumped between his parents. He basked in the incredible comfort of being surrounded by his parents' loving concern, a feeling so intense it was almost physical. It took him back to his early childhood, when he never had a problem that couldn't be solved by his parents' loving embrace. That was a feeling Jason found he desperately needed to experience again. Claire continued to stroke his head and back in a soothing manner until she felt he was calm enough to understand her.

"Oh, Jason ... how could you go through this and shut us out? Don't you know you can always come to us?" she chided him gently, her eyes reflecting her hurt.

"I was ashamed," he admitted in a whisper, averting his eyes.

"Son, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing here was your fault," Joe assured him, holding Jason's hand tightly to provide an emotional anchor. It was fortunate Jason didn't look up at his father right then; the anger in Joe's expression was like a living thing - sparking and writhing, wanting freedom to hurt the one who'd hurt his child.

"I felt like I should have been able to prevent it somehow. Like it was at least partly my own fault," Jason confessed.

"But it wasn't. You see that, don't you?"

"Now I do. But it took a long time," he sighed.

"Did you get help?" Claire asked in a hopeful voice.

"Yeah. The therapist there in Geneva was a great help. I started seeing her almost as soon as I got over there. She's great, you'd really like her," he said with a tiny smile as he thought of the warm, caring woman who'd helped him through his confusion.

"I imagine I would," Claire agreed quietly. "If only for what she did for you."

"I came back to tell you what happened. She kept telling me I needed to do that, that it couldn't really be over until you knew, and I'd reported it to the police. But it was so hard to think about that. Because I knew you'd be hurt. I thought you'd be ashamed of me, for letting that happen. You'd taught me better," Jason murmured.

"Son, you couldn't have known what was going to happen," Joe assured him. "Was Roland the one who attacked Billy, too?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah. Told him Tommy needed help with his homework, I think," the teen replied.

"You do need to report it, Son. Billy too," Joe started to say, but stopped when Jason turned to him with a faint smile.

"That's what we did this afternoon. Sorry, forgot to tell you that part." His smile disappeared. "Guess everyone down at the station knows now. Sorry."

Joe sighed in exasperated affection. "How many times am I going to have to tell you 'you have nothing to be sorry for'? Hmmm? Come on, Son, you're fading fast here, and you're much too big for me to carry off to bed. Go lie down for a while. Rest. We'll talk more later."

Jason didn't argue. Between the long flight, jet lag, the emotional turmoil of finding out what had happened to Billy, making the police report, and talking to his parents - complete with emotional breakdown - he was as exhausted as he could ever remember being. Numbly he stumbled to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed, fast asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

It was fortunate he slept so deeply; he was spared the sound of his parents weeping for their son's lonely ordeal, silent struggle, and loss of innocence.

Breakfast at the Oliver home was a casual affair. Roland was perusing the morning paper while sipping his coffee and eating his poached eggs on toast. His wife, Virginia, who was on yet another diet in her continuing quest to lose ten pounds, was having unsweetened grapefruit juice and unbuttered toast. Tommy was working his way through a bowl of granola and a large glass of orange juice while reviewing the History chapter they were being tested on that day.

"Boy, am I glad it's Friday," Tommy mumbled, closing his book. "Miss Appleby has been on a tear this week."

"Are you ready for the test?" Virginia asked.

"Sure. I think so. Provided she doesn't ask something really obscure. Or want specific dates," her son grinned. The musical chiming of the doorbell interrupted any further comment.

"Wonder who that could be this early? Maybe one of your friends?" Roland asked, looking at Tommy.

"Maybe. In any case, I'll get it," he answered, already starting toward the front door.

The long-haired teen opened the door to find two uniformed police officers waiting.

"Hi. What can I do for you?" he asked politely. It wasn't that uncommon to have policemen come over, given his father's profession. "Do you need to see my dad?"

"Yes, please," Officer Gribben replied. He nodded for his younger partner to accompany him.

Tommy led the way into the kitchen, circling around the table and sitting back down to his breakfast. Roland looked up unconcerned.

"What's up, officers?"

"Mr. Roland Oliver?" At Roland's nod the man continued. "We are placing you under arrest. You have the right to remain silent ..." he started.

"What?" the attorney exclaimed in surprise, and no small amount of anger.

"We have a warrant for your arrest," the older officer replied, looking up from the card on which the Miranda rights were printed. "You have the right to remain silent ..." he began again.

"On what charges? I demand to see the warrant," the lawyer ground out, standing at his full height and staring angrily at the two officers.

The two policemen had been chosen to make the arrest at least partly based on their height, neither one was less than 6'3", so Roland's attempt to intimidate them physically failed immediately. However, he was within his rights, so the younger officer, Officer Ralston, showed him the warrant.

"Rape?" Roland asked incredulously. "You are accusing me of rape? That's preposterous! This is a sham meant to discredit me, nothing more. Someone will pay for this, you can be sure," he growled, handing the warrant back.

He allowed Officer Gribben to finish reading the Miranda, but balked when Officer Ralston tried to handcuff him.

"Now, this is taking it too far," he declared angrily.

"It's standard procedure, Sir," the younger officer replied, looking at the attorney with a bland expression.

Growling and muttering, he allowed himself to be cuffed and led toward the front door.

"Virginia, call Victor and tell him what happened. Tell him to get to the Police Station immediately. Don't worry, I'll be fine, and this will be taken care of," he said to his wife as they approached the front door.

Neither Virginia nor Tommy had said anything, shocked as they were by this turn of events. When the door closed behind the officers and Roland, she turned at once to the phone and called Roland's law partner, Victor Manning. Listening to the explanation of what had happened, he reassured her that Roland would be released in time for an early lunch.

It wasn't until she hung up the phone that the fear set in, and she burst into tears, despite her intention to remain strong for Tommy.

"Mom," the tall teen said softly, hugging her protectively. "It's okay, it'll be okay, you'll see. It's just all a big mistake. It has to be."

But by that afternoon they had discovered it wasn't going to be as easy as Roland had assumed. He came home at three, disgruntled and angry, to close himself in his office making calls. That evening Victor Manning came over to meet with him, carrying a sheath of papers and sporting a solemn expression.

Tommy had stayed home all day with his worried mother, offering what comfort he could. Though Virginia was an excellent mother, and a hard worker, she didn't always deal well with stress, and having her husband arrested during breakfast definitely qualified as a stressful event. The teen had also felt the emotional toll of the day's events, which left him feeling adrift in a sea of confusion. He loved and respected his father above all others, and seeing him arrested had shaken him badly. Needing reassurance that things were returning to normal he wandered down to the study to check in with his dad, and paused by the partially-closed door.

"I can't believe these charges. It's just incomprehensible to me that anyone can take them seriously. Rape? Child molestation?" Roland's voice was filled with the confused self-righteousness of a person who feels he's being falsely accused.

"Well, the Scott boy was seventeen at the time of the alleged attack," Victor pointed out.

"I know that, Victor," Roland snapped testily. "And the Cranston boy is eighteen. I know that too. I also know I didn't lay a hand on either one of them, let alone rape them."

"Easy, Roland. I know that. But if they decide to carry on with this charade, there will be twelve other people you will need to convince. We need to start planning for that contingency. It would help a lot if you had a witness for last Saturday, but since you don't, we'll have to do some work to offset that."

"Dammit, I know those kids, what are they trying to do?" Roland groaned as he collapsed back onto his chair.

Tommy barely registered his father's comment; his mind was reeling from what they had said before. Jason? Billy? They were the ones who were accusing his dad of this? That couldn't be true. Ignoring the rest of the conversation, Tommy stumbled back to his room numbly, unaware that somewhere along the way he'd started to cry.

"Come on, Billy, let's stop by the Juice Bar, okay?" Jason asked his companion as they walked along a quiet street near the park. Yesterday the two of them had been called down to the police station to pick out their attacker from a lineup, going in separately to ensure the integrity of the results. Jason was encouraged to see his friend had actually seemed to take some comfort in the proceedings, in knowing they were doing something to 'strike back' as it were.

"I don't know, Jase. What if Tommy's there? I'm not really up to seeing him," Billy demurred. "Or to telling the team what happened."

"We're going to have to see them sometime, Bro. And I suspect they may be getting worried about you. Besides, I'm looking forward to meeting Kat and Tanya. I've heard some very good things about them," the former Ranger grinned, trying to lighten his friend's mood.

The former Blue Ranger sighed. "Okay, I guess we could see if they're there. But I don't want to talk to them about what's going on, okay? I just ... just don't feel ready for that."

Jason nodded in agreement. He was impressed, very impressed actually, with how well Billy was doing. He'd seen the rape counselor a couple of times the previous week, and was now on a regular schedule, which Jason thought was a wonderful idea. Sure, there were plenty of signs that the former Blue Ranger wasn't sleeping very well, but that was to be expected. Jason remembered all too well the bad dreams he'd had. Still had, in fact. But Billy was overall coping much, much better than Jason had expected.

The previous day, after picking Roland out of a lineup, the two of them had talked about Tommy. They were both dreading facing their friend, knowing that the sometimes volatile teenager would not be pleased with their accusations. Jason in particular hoped there would be some way to salvage their friendship, but he was too much of a realist to expect that would be possible.

What, and how much, to tell the team was another consideration. They had finally decided a 'need to know' basis would have to work. The radio and TV stations had already reported the arrest of Roland Oliver, so there were bound to be questions, concerns.

"Truthfully, I'm not ready to tackle that either. But, we really should at least stop by and say hello," Jason said.

It was early enough that the Youth Center was not very busy yet, much to both boys' relief. Spotting the team, sans Tommy, sitting at the usual table, they strolled on over as casually as possible.

"Whoa! See, Adam, I was right. He still is alive," Rocky announced, looking up at Billy and Jason with a grin. "Pull up a chair and sit down. Adam here was convinced Billy had died and Zordon had buried him under the Power Chamber."

Adam blushed faintly at Rocky's comments. "I was just concerned when we didn't see you around last week. When I called your house, your dad said you weren't feeling well."

"I wasn't. Jason, you remember Rocky and Adam? And this is Kat and Tanya," Billy said, indicating the two girls, neatly cutting off the questioning regarding his time off.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Jason said, shaking hands with both girls and giving them the benefit of his warm smile.

"Oh, the pleasure is all ours. We've heard a lot about you," Tanya replied with a grin.

"What are you doing back here anyway?" Rocky asked, taking a sip of his vibrantly orange smoothie.

"Just wanted to come back for a visit," the first Red Ranger answered smoothly.

"So, how's Geneva?" Adam asked, smiling.

Jason launched into an abbreviated version of his and his friends' escapades, generating several rounds of laughter as Ernie delivered a special smoothie to celebrate the return of one his favorite customers. They were so intent on their conversation the teens didn't notice Tommy's approach until he sat down across from the two former Rangers.

"Jason, Billy, you guys need to come with us to the Power Chamber," he said with quiet urgency.

"Why? What's up?" Jason asked, giving Billy a puzzled look, which the teen genius mirrored.

"I think Mondo put you under some sort of spell. I mean, something's going on, it has to be. Though it's not like Mondo to involve our families, " the Red Ranger commented. He had spent a sleepless night trying to figure out why his two closest friends had made such outrageous allegations against his father, and a spell was the only thing that made sense to him.

"What are you talking about? What did Mondo do to involve our families?" Though, Jason was starting to suspect what Tommy was talking about.

"Why else would you accuse my dad of such a thing?" the Ranger leader explained reasonably, still looking about nervously to ensure no one could overhear them.

Jason shot an apologetic look at Billy, then turned to Tommy. "It has nothing to do with a spell, Tommy. I'm sorry, man, but ... no spell."

"Come on, Jase! There's no way my dad did something like that. No way at all," he insisted stubbornly.

Jason shook his head slowly. "Tommy, I know this is hard to deal with, and I'm sorry, but Mondo had nothing to do with it."

"If it's not a spell, then you two are trying to frame him, and I for one want to know why," the tall teen countered, growing angry.

"Tommy, it was no spell, no conspiracy, we're not framing him. It happened, just as we reported it ..." Jason started to explain, anger creeping into his tone as well.

"That's impossible. I refuse to believe it," Tommy's tone had turned icy as he interrupted the former Ranger.

"Then I suppose there's nothing I can do to change your mind, and I won't even try, but we reported exactly what happened," Jason countered.

"Shut up!" Tommy smacked his hand down on the table, startling all of them and drawing some curious stares. "Just shut up! He didn't do it. You two are lying and I want to know why! What do you think you're doing? How could you do this?"

"Don't you dare accuse us of lying ..." Jason began, his temper finally getting the best of him.

"Stop it!" At the sound of Billy's voice the other two turned to him in surprise. The teen's face was deathly pale, his eyes desperate. "It happened! It happened, and your fighting won't change that! Nothing can change that!" He suddenly leapt to his feet and ran toward the exit, bumping roughly into Bulk, who'd just entered.

"Watch out," the bully began, but he didn't bother to finish the sentence since Billy was already out the door.

"Billy! Dammit! I hope you're happy now!" Jason all but shouted at Tommy, before running out after Billy.

"I can't believe those two! And I thought they were my friends," Tommy exclaimed, standing himself and striding quickly out the door.

The four remaining teens looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Is it just me, or do the rest of you have no idea what just happened here?" Tanya asked at last, looking around at her companions who had sat silently during the heated exchange.

"It's not just you. I think it had something to do with Tommy's dad being arrested. I heard about it on the radio this morning. But I don't know what the charges are. Maybe we should go find one of them and find out what's going on?" Adam suggested.

"Sounds good to me. Let's look in the park, maybe Billy and Jason headed that way," Rocky suggested.

The teens headed toward the park in a group, not talking much, each of them trying to make sense of the scene in the Juice Bar. It was obvious that Tommy was angry with Jason and Billy, and that they were equally angry at Tommy. But it made no sense to them. Jason had been gone for the past year, and until last week Tommy and Billy had gotten along great. What could have happened to put them at each other's throats that way?

"Look. There's Billy and Jason," Kat said at last, pointing to a distant, secluded table. "Come on."

They walked up to the table cautiously, allowing the two teens to see them approaching. They weren't sure why, but they felt sneaking up on Jason and Billy would not be a good idea. They noticed that Jason had calmed down completely, and that Billy, though he looked quiet enough, had red-rimmed eyes, as if he'd been weeping.

"Um, guys, what just happened there?" Rocky asked hesitantly.

Jason sighed deeply and looked questioningly at Billy. At his friend's nearly imperceptible nod, Jason spoke.

"Why don't you guys come on and sit down, and I'll try to explain. I guess you should hear the story from us before any rumors reach you."

Jason looked around at the faces of the current Ranger team, wishing he knew them a little better. He'd met Rocky and Adam briefly before he'd left, but they'd not had enough time to really get to know each other. And, of course, today was the first time he'd seen the two girls. He sighed again, wishing Billy was capable of talking about this, since he knew them all so much better. But one glance at the troubled face of his friend told him there was no way Billy was up to that task.

"Tommy's upset with us because ... well ... we're sorta the reason his dad got arrested," he said at last. "See, last year ... before we left for Geneva ... his dad tricked me into coming over to his house. Tommy wasn't there," Jason paused again in his halting explanation, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say. No matter how often he'd had to explain this - to Trini and Zack, to the therapist, to his parents, to the police - he still nearly lost it every time. "And ... well .. .he attacked me. He ... it ... it was sexual, you know? And last weekend ... Billy ..." he stopped there, seeing from the horrified expressions around him that he didn't need to continue. They got it.

"My God, why?" Adam asked in a shocked tone of voice.

"I have no idea," Jason replied quietly, feeling a surge of relief that they believed him.

The other teens were silent for a few minutes, uncomfortable, trying to process the fact that two former Rangers - two former leaders in fact, since Billy had pretty much led the team during the period time was reversed - two friends, had been raped by another friend's father. It was upsetting, and confusing, in a way they couldn't quantify.

"Didn't you ever, I dunno, suspect something was up? I mean, you're a black belt, you're pretty strong, couldn't you get away from him?" Rocky asked tentatively.

"Don't you think if I could have I would've?" Jason snapped furiously, then paused, taking a deep breath when Rocky flinched. "Sorry. It's just ... no, I couldn't. He used chloroform or something like that. Some liquid on a rag. God, just like in an old movie or something. It happened so fast. And when I woke up, I was tied down. I was helpless ..." Jason's voice trailed off as he gazed into the distance, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Sorry," Rocky mumbled, looking extremely uncomfortable. "That was really stupid of me."

"It's okay. Natural question, I guess," Jason sighed. "And, no, I never suspected anything. Mr. Oliver had always seemed so normal, so nice. I trusted him."

"Me, too," Billy agreed in a barely audible voice. "He shoved my head into the door, I remember that ... guess it knocked me out. Then ..." he looked away, unable to continue, tears flooding his eyes.

"Oh, Billy," Kat said sadly, laying a soft hand on Billy's shoulder. None of them missed how the team genius flinched at the gentle touch.

"And Tommy never knew." Adam's comment was half observation, half question.

"I don't think so. I hope not," Jason replied. The thought that his friend might have knowingly turned a blind eye to what had happened made Jason feel sick. Being a victim of Roland's violence was one thing, but if Tommy had somehow set them up ... that was something Jason just couldn't fathom. He couldn't ... wouldn't ... believe Tommy capable of that. There was just no way.

"I'm sure he didn't," Tanya agreed, understanding Jason's feelings. "If you don't mind me saying so, you seem to be dealing with this very well."

Jason gave her a small, grateful smile. "I've been in therapy for a while, it's helped." He knew it wasn't something Tanya particularly needed to know, but he wanted to keep reinforcing Billy on that point.

Kat had kept her hand on Billy's shoulder, almost feeling his struggle to not pull away from her. Sensing it was time for a change, she dredged up a cheerful voice.

"You guys want to join us in a game of volleyball? We were discussing doing that earlier, before you two got there. Three-person teams are better than two-person ones," she wheedled, forcing herself to sound as normal as she could.

Jason looked to Billy again, gauging how he was holding up. It was his first time in public since the attack, and Jason didn't want to overdo it, knowing all too well that even among friends it was stressful. But Billy just gave him another subtle nod, accepting the invitation.

"How about boys versus girls?" Jason asked with a grin, knowing full well what they were doing, and appreciating the gesture more than they knew.

When the familiar chime from their communicators interrupted Katherine and Tanya's discussion of medieval poetry, Kat looked around to be sure no one could overhear before answering Zordon.

"Zordon, it's Kat. What's up?" she asked softly.

"Katherine, you are needed in the park immediately."

"Right. Tanya's with me, we're leaving now," she replied briskly, nodding at her companion.

They arrived at Angel Grove Park to find the three boys already morphed and battling a small platoon of cogs. Joining the fight, the girls helped turn the tide to their favor, breathing a sigh of relief as the last of the mechanical menaces disappeared.

"Wonder what's up," Tommy muttered, looking around. "Come on, guys, let's go check in with Zordon. I don't like the feel of this."

The ancient mentor checked Alpha's reports on the activity in the Machine Empire and turned to his youthful charges. "I see no indication that Mondo is planning anything special at this time, but we will continue to monitor him, as well as Rita and Zedd, closely. At this time it is all we can do. We will contact you as soon as the situation changes."

Hearing the dismissal in his voice, the Rangers turned to go.

"Guys, I think we need to talk. Let's go someplace quiet, where we won't be disturbed. Maybe our favorite table at the park?" Tommy requested.

"Good idea," Adam consented, while the others nodded their agreement.

They teleported to a cluster of trees which would shield them from being observed, then went to the isolated table sitting in the shade of one of the huge elms. Settling down comfortably, they waited for their leader to speak.

"I guess you guys want to know what happened between Billy, Jason, and I this morning, right?" he started.

"We talked to Billy and Jason," Rocky said matter-of-factly. "Though we'd like to hear your side, too."

"My side? They're wrong, that's my 'side'. There's just no way my dad would ever, ever do something like that," Tommy declared emphatically. "My dad has worked with underprivileged kids - getting them medical and financial help. He helped set up a program to care for drug-addicted babies when he found out the hospital couldn't handle them properly. He coaches Little League, for God's sake. And soccer. Has for years. He would never hurt anyone, and certainly not like they're saying he did."

The other teens watched Tommy pace angrily, understanding their friend's reasons for being upset, and knowing Roland had a reputation for being a champion of kids who needed help. All of them except Tanya had spent time in the Olivers' home, had met Tommy's father, spent time around him. But they had also seen Billy and Jason's faces and body language when they told them what had happened. They hadn't been lying, of that they were sure.

"We understand that, Tommy, but the looks on their faces, the way they reacted, I'm telling you, SOMETHING happened to them, something bad," Tanya countered. She barely knew any of them, being so new to the team, so she felt she could be a bit more objective.

"Are you saying you don't believe me?" Tommy asked angrily.

"I'm saying that I believe you, and I believe them. How both could be true, I don't know, but at this point that's the only way I can see it," the Yellow Ranger explained in a reasonable voice.

"It's pretty obvious they've been through hell, or rather it's obvious with Billy," Adam added.

"You think I'm not going through hell? This is destroying my dad, my mom is in tears most of the time, we're getting harassing calls already," the longhaired teen countered, then stopped, realizing he had said more than he had planned. It was not his intention to foist his problems onto his teammates.

"It'll be okay, Tommy," Kat said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder in an unconscious mirror of the comfort she'd offered Billy earlier.

"I don't understand how they could do this to me," the Red Ranger repeated, suddenly sounding defeated. The worry about his parents was bad enough, without adding in the sense of betrayal he was experiencing when he thought of Jason and Billy's roles in this nightmare.

"I don't understand how anyone could do that to them," Rocky countered, a touch of anger coloring his voice. He could understand that Tommy believed fully in his father's innocence, but that didn't mean Rocky agreed with him. He'd never cared that much for Roland, and quite frankly he could imagine him beating and terrorizing a smaller opponent far too easily, though he would never say that to Tommy. After all, one of the universal laws was that you protect family. He looked around at the others, and could tell by their expressions that Tanya and Adam were entertaining similar thoughts, while Katherine seemed intent on comforting Tommy.

A feeling of deep, abiding sorrow welled up suddenly in the Blue Ranger, as he realized at some level that a rift was starting in the team that would eventually tear them asunder.

Zordon deactivated the Viewing Screen with a silent sigh of displeasure. He had discretely been watching the Rangers since Billy suddenly quit working in the Power Chamber, suspecting something was going wrong. Events of the day had proved his suspicions in a way he could never have suspected. Now, watching the team interact in the park, he was forced to a decision he had dreaded.

"Alpha, begin searching for suitable replacements for the Zeo Ranger team, please," the ancient being said sorrowfully.

"Right away, Zordon," the little 'droid replied, giving a mechanical sniffle. He hated when Zordon had to fire a team, but it was sometimes necessary in order to protect the young people who held the Powers.

A team in turmoil was a team that could get hurt.

Roland Oliver had not become a successful attorney by allowing people to walk over him. He insisted on, and usually got, his way. When he found out that the charges against him were going to be followed up on, and vigorously, he insisted the trial be moved to the earliest date possible. He found it inconceivable that he could be convicted of the crime of which he was accused, so his attitude was the sooner he got it over with, the better. To that end, he pulled every string he could, and ended up with a court date only two months in the future. He selected his partner, Victor Manning, to represent him.

The District Attorney's office would be handling the prosecution, and assigned their most experienced attorney, Richard Perkins, to the case. Richard, the father of two teenage daughters and a 21-year-old son, was a calm, pleasant man who inspired confidence. He read all the information available so far on the case, did some discreet inquiring on his own, then met with the two families, along with the D.A.'s chief investigator, Donald Bradford.

"Folks, I think we need to ask the most important question first," he began, looking around at the Scotts and Cranstons with a serious expression. He then focused on the two teens. "Everything else depends on the answer to this. Are you sure you want to prosecute on this case? Absolutely positive this is what you want to do?" Seeing both young men nod their heads, Richard continued. "I'm not going to kid you about this. This is very likely to get ugly. Rape cases have a lower rate of conviction than almost any other crime, and you two have the added disadvantage of being males. Conversely, there is likely to be more sensationalism of the case because of that fact. You will be called fags, wimps, queerboys and worse. People will assume you were 'looking for it'. Jason, you in particular, because you didn't report the crime immediately, will be called a liar. You will be required to tell, in exacting detail, what was done to you, how it was done, how it felt, what you did about it. Billy, the pictures taken of you in the hospital will be shown to people you don't know, and you will also have to repeat, in detail, what happened to you. You're not going to have much recovery time to learn to deal with what happened, either. In short you will both be harassed, harangued, doubted, second-guessed, ridiculed, and reviled. You'll be the chief freaks in a media circus," he concluded looking at the two teens intently.

"And here we wondered what we were going to do with our summer," Jason joked weakly.

Billy quirked a rueful half grin at his friend, which wasn't missed by the sharp-eyed attorney. That told him what the boys' answer would be, and at that moment he dedicated himself to the case, even knowing full well it was one he might very well lose.

"Looks like we're in," Jason confirmed after a quick look at their parents. They'd already been told that they would be supported fully, no matter which choice they made.

"Good. Next question, what do you want from this? Obviously, you want a conviction of the man who hurt you, I know that much. But the question is: why? What will that accomplish?" His estimation of his two young clients grew as they paused to consider the question.

"I ... I don't want him to ever do this again to someone else," Jason said at length, looking at Richard with an intensity the older man found disquieting. There was something else in those dark eyes, something sad and painfully guilty.

"Yeah," Billy agreed. "And, I want it recognized that he did something wrong."

"You want him punished," Richard concluded.

"No, not exactly. I mean ... well ... yeah, he should be punished, but that's not what I meant. I want it affirmed, I guess, that what he did was wrong. It's hard to explain, but if he gets off, then it's like they're saying 'he didn't do anything wrong, hurting them wasn't a bad thing', and it was. What he did hurt us, it was wrong, and I want that acknowledged," Billy said with a determined frown.

Richard considered them with growing respect. He had pretty much expected they would want to pursue the case, but the expectations they had were interesting, different than he had anticipated.

"Okay, then. I'm going to lay out my strategy, and what I need from all of you. We're in this together, folks, and I'm going to tell you right now, I play to win."

Trini Kwan hung up the phone softly, then sat staring at it with unseeing eyes, lost in her thoughts, until Zack poked his head in the door.

"Did you call him? How's he doing? Can we go now?" he asked in typical rapid-fire style. He stopped when he saw the expression on her face.

"What happened, Trini? Is he okay?" The former Black Ranger sat down beside his friend, his eyes searching her face. He knew Trini had been worried about Jason, who hadn't called them since leaving Geneva a week before.

"Jason's okay," she murmured, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks.

"Then what's wrong," he prompted her.

"Mr. Oliver got Billy; just a few days before Jason got home. He was injured enough that they hospitalized him for a day. Then they had a blowout with Tommy, who thinks they're lying about what happened. You can imagine how well Jason took that. Plus, I think being around Billy is making it harder for Jason, reminds him of what he went through, not to mention what Billy is going through," she explained, wiping at her moist cheeks.

Zack put a comforting arm around her shoulders, fighting back his own anger and dismay that yet another friend had been victimized. "You think it's time we went home, huh keed?" he asked gently.

She answered with an expression of combined anxiety and relief. "I think we're needed more there than here."

"I have to agree. Come on, let's see about booking a flight and blowing this dump," Zack said with a smile, wanting to lighten the mood a little. Despite his efforts, all the former Yellow Ranger could manage was a ghost of a smile.

"Kat! Telephone!" Mrs. Hillard's voice carried down the hall to where her daughter was working on her homework and listening to CDs.

"Thanks, Mom," she called back as she picked up the receiver and turned down the music. "Hello?"

"Hi, Kat? It's Kimberly. Kat, what the hell is going on? I just had a visit form a Don Bradford of the Angel Grove District Attorney's office asking me very strange questions about Tommy's dad." The distance between Florida and California did little to soften the irritation in the original Pink Ranger's voice. She sounded seriously pissed.

"He didn't tell you what the case was about?" the Australian asked.

"No. Just said it was a 'sexual misconduct' case. But the questions he was asking me ... well ... it was upsetting," Kimberly replied.

"Yes, I can imagine," the blonde agreed. "The whole situation is a mess."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, then Kim's voice returned, the irritation replaced with concern. "Kat, what's happened? Is Tommy okay?"

It was, Kat considered, a natural enough question, coming from Tommy's ex-girlfriend. She replied quietly. "Tommy's fine, Kim. No, his dad is accused of attacking someone else."

"Who? Is it someone I know?"

"Kim, it was ... Billy and Jason," she said as gently as she could, knowing it would upset her Pink predecessor.

"What? Kat, are they okay?" the former Ranger asked in a slightly wavering voice.

"They're doing okay, I guess. Jason, he's had a year to recover, and get help. Billy, it's only been a bit over two weeks. I'm not really sure how he's doing, to tell you the truth. He's hard to figure out sometimes. And we don't see him a lot, neither of them, really," Kat explained.

"I can't believe this. Jason was attacked a year ago? That was when I was there, and I never knew? And, 'attacked'? The detective said 'sexual misconduct' ..." Kim's voice trailed off, and even over the phone lines Kat could all but hear her mind making the connection.

"Oh, my God. Kat, are you saying Tommy's dad raped them? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's what the charges are, yes. That's what Jason and Billy say happened," Kat replied numbly. She was still having a very hard time dealing with the idea of what had been done to the two teens. She knew it was possible, but the very idea repulsed her in ways she couldn't explain.

"You sound like you don't believe them," Kim said, anger again coloring her voice.

"I do believe them, Kim. But ... I'm just having a really hard time dealing with this, okay?" She couldn't help the defensive way her voice sounded.

"I understand, Kat. Sorry, I ... I shouldn't have jumped on you like that. I'm just surprised. Look, I'm going to call the airlines and get a flight home. Would it be possible for me to stay with you for a while? Or is that too much for your parents?"

"You'd be welcome, I'm sure. But, Kim, your gymnastics ..."

"I didn't make the team, Kat," the gymnast said flatly. "I've been helping coach the last month. I just didn't want to tell everyone, yet. Cowardly of me, I know, but I was waiting until I came home to explain. But now, it looks like I have some friends who need me. I'll call later with the details, okay?"

"I'll expect your call. And, Kim? I'm glad you're coming."

There was a deep sigh at the other end. "I'm glad to be coming home, I just wish it wasn't for this reason."

Zordon looked down at his Zeo Ranger team with an expression of mingled determination and sorrow. The last week, since the disagreement at the Youth Center, the ancient mentor had been dreading this moment, even as he realized it was necessary. Delaying the inevitable would be cruel, so he looked the assembled teens over once more and began to speak.

"Rangers. Since you first joined the team, each of you has more than lived up to the expectations I had for you, serving mankind in the battle against evil with incredible fortitude and courage. But, there comes a time when things must change, and I am sorry to have to say this is one of those times. In a couple of weeks you will all be graduating from high school, and moving on with your lives and futures. While being a Power Ranger is certainly an important duty, it is not your primary duty. That is to live your lives in such a way the future of all mankind is assured, and to do that will require the freedom to move and grow. A freedom not permitted while holding the Powers. Therefore, I am requesting you give up your Powers at this time, so you can enjoy your last two weeks of high school, and the upcoming period of vacation, to its fullest."

The five teens stood in the Power Chamber, staring at Zordon in shock.

"Give up the Powers?" Tommy asked in disbelief. "Who ... who will defend Angel Grove?"

"I have found a new team willing to take on the responsibility ..."

"You've been planning this a while, huh?" Tommy interrupted bitterly.

"I am aware of your ages, Rangers. Aware of your upcoming graduation. Mondo's attacks are certain to escalate in the coming weeks. And Rita and Zedd are probably plotting something as well. Passing the Powers during this lull seemed well advised," Zordon explained reasonably.

"I ... I guess so," Rocky said softly, calling up his zeonizers. Since the mess with Jason and Billy and Tommy, he'd been less and less enchanted with being a Power Ranger. He wasn't sure why that was, and he supposed it didn't matter anymore. He laid them down along with the blue-banded communicator.

"Yeah," Adam murmured, setting his down by Rocky's. The girls both followed, muttering their agreement until only Tommy remained.

The Ranger leader called up his own zeonizers and removed his communicator, holding both in his hand and staring at them with a solemn expression. Memories swirled in his mind, all the different Powers, all the different teammates, with the only constant being Zordon and Alpha. And Billy, his mind provided stubbornly. That thought brought the teen up short, reminding him that what was going on at home was more urgent than fighting Mondo's monster of the week.

He finally set the items down resolutely on the console and stared up at Zordon. "You're right. Nothing lasts forever, no matter how much you might want it. Things, and people, change."

"Thank you, Rangers, for all you have done, for all you've been. You have been the finest group of Power Rangers it has ever been my privilege to work with. For now and always, may the Power protect you," Zordon said gravely. "Send them home, Alpha."

Five beams of purest white streaked away from the Power Chamber, never to return.

"When did you say Kim was going to get here, Kat?" Rocky asked, looking at his watch again.

"Her plane is scheduled to arrive at 1:15, and you know your watch is seven minutes fast, so settle down, Rocky," Katherine answered with a smile.

"So I'm anxious. I skipped lunch to be sure I was on time, and I'm hungry! I hate waiting anyway," the former Ranger groused, continuing his restless pacing.

Katherine sighed, and decided to ignore his complaints for the time being. She looked at the others, but Tanya and Adam were deep in conversation and no help to their Australian friend. Billy and Jason had not been able to accompany them, and Tommy ... well, Tommy was another problem altogether.

Since Zordon had relieved them of their Power Ranger duties, Tommy had secluded himself at his home, and refused to talk to any of the others. Kat knew he was upset about the Powers, but even more about the problem with his dad. She suspected the erstwhile leader was struggling with feelings of betrayal, depression, and probably loneliness. She was determined to stop by and visit him later that day, to offer what slight comfort she could. Kat recognized that Rocky and Adam pretty much sided with Jason and Billy, and were in some odd way angry at Tommy, even though it was quite clear from what they'd learned that Tommy had had nothing to do with the attacks, and in fact probably was completely ignorant of his father's actions.

Tanya and Katherine had talked about the situation between the two of them, and had found they had the same feeling about it: that Billy and Jason were telling the truth, and that Tommy was reacting basically the only way he could react under the circumstances. They both felt incredible sympathy for all three boys, even Jason whom they barely knew, though they couldn't figure out anything they could do for any of them except be there as their friends.

"Look, that's Kim's flight taxiing up," Rocky announced, pulling Kat from her thoughts. Adam and Tanya joined them at the window, watching the jet taxi into position to let its passengers out. They watched until it was clear the passengers were leaving the plane, then hurried to the area where they'd enter the terminal. Scanning the arriving passengers anxiously, Adam was the first to spot their former teammate.

"There she is. Come on," he called out, leading Tanya toward the petite, chestnut-haired young woman looking around curiously.

"Adam!" she cried out happily when she spotted the former Black Ranger. Without hesitation she hugged the Asian teen tightly, then repeated the action with Rocky and Kat. Releasing Katherine, Kim turned to the pretty African-American girl quietly watching them.

"You must be Tanya," she smiled, then gave in to the impulse to hug the yellow-clad young woman. "I'm glad to meet you, Kat's told me all about you."

"And she's done the same about you," Tanya laughed. "Maybe we should trade stories later and see how much she exaggerated."

That earned some good-natured chuckling from the boys, and a blushing laugh from the tall blonde.

"Come on, Kim, let's go someplace to visit. The Youth Center, maybe?" Rocky said, retrieving Kim's luggage.

"He skipped lunch to meet your plane," Tanya explained with a smile. "If we don't feed him soon he'll fade away to nothing."

"Oh, well, we can't have that happen. And honestly, lunch sounds good to me, as well. I can never eat on planes, I'm always too nervous."

"Well, come on then," Rocky urged them, ushering his companions out the door.

The Youth Center wasn't very crowded, and they quickly secured a table off to the side where they could visit without much fear of being overheard. Small talk eventually gave way to more serious considerations.

"The case is really going to trial?" Kim asked at last, after hearing the others' account of what had happened.

"Yeah. My mom works in the court; she said it's scheduled for just a bit less than two months from now. Jason said they'd already met with the prosecutor. They elected to press charges," Adam told her.

"Wow." The petite gymnast looked around curiously. "How's Tommy taking all this?"

"He won't talk to us," Kat replied sadly. "Though I'm going to try again later today."

"Maybe I'll go with you, if that's okay," Kim decided. She'd seen the looks that flitted across the two boys' faces, and understood without being told that Tommy could not expect a lot of sympathy from them at this time.

"Shall we make it a threesome?" Tanya offered.

"Okay, it's a plan, then," Kim agreed.

"Always good to have a plan," a new voice chimed in from behind Kim. They all looked up in surprise, having been too distracted by their conversation to notice anyone approaching.

"Zack!" Kimberly cried out happily, launching her small self at her childhood friend. "And Trini! Oh, geez, it's good to see you!" she gushed, giving Trini a greeting every bit as enthusiastic as the one she'd given Zack. "When did you get back?" she demanded as she released Trini.

"Early this morning. How about you?" Trini replied.

"Less than an hour ago," Kim reported. She stepped aside for a moment, letting Rocky and Adam greet the two ex-Rangers they'd met so briefly a year ago. Adam introduced Kat and Tanya, then they resettled around the table.

"So, is the peace conference over, then?" Kim asked them brightly.

"No. But we found out what was going on here, and decided this is where we need to be," Trini answered, watching the other teens' reactions. She hadn't been sure if they knew about the attacks, but their reactions indicated clearly they did.

"It's so awful. I just can't believe this happened," Kim sighed, looking down at her half-eaten lunch.

"I know. But it did, so we deal with it," Zack stated simply. "Do Jason and Billy know you're coming?"

Kim shot a questioning look at Katherine, who gave a slight smile. "No, I didn't have a chance to tell them. We had some other things going on as well."

"Oh?" Kimberly prompted her.

"Yeah. We're not Rangers anymore," Katherine reported.

"What? Why?" Trini asked, surprised.

"Zordon said it was because we are all graduating, but I think it's because of what happened," Rocky grumbled.

"Why would that ..." Kim started to ask, but was interrupted by Tanya's no-nonsense tone.

"We have a little dissention regarding our former leader, it seems," she stated plainly. "Some people seem to think Tommy is a guilty party as well."

"I don't think he did anything to hurt Billy and Jason, I just can't believe he didn't know what was going on, what his dad is capable of," Rocky retorted.

"Oh, come on, Rocky! How much do you know about your parents' sex life, huh?" Kim chided him.

Rocky opened his mouth to reply only to find he couldn't come up with any sort of response. His basic honesty made him stop and think about it, while the question also caused an unwilling blush to creep up his face. "Good argument, Kim," he mumbled at last.

"It's just really hard," Adam spoke up for the first time. "I know it's not Tommy's fault, but when I'm around him, I just can't deal with it."

Kim flashed him an understanding look. "That's okay, Adam. I guess I can accept that, even if I don't completely understand."

"Guys, Jason's heading our way," Zack announced quietly, then looked up at his approaching friend with a huge grin.

"You're late. You forget how to find your way here?" he asked in his humorous way, as if they'd just seen each other hours instead of weeks ago.

"Just giving you plenty of time in case you forgot," the burly teen replied easily, looking around the table. When his gaze landed on the first Pink Ranger, his dark eyes widened in surprise. "Kimberly!"

"Hey, you!" she laughed as she was enveloped in a tight hug. "Geez, you are not getting any weaker, that's for sure!" she mock-groaned.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be training?" he demanded with a suspicious look.

She looked down, obviously embarrassed. "Well, actually, I ... um ... I didn't make the team. So, I decided to come home for a while," she explained.

Various utterances of dismay surrounded her, and Kimberly found herself recounting her experiences in Florida to her friends as the afternoon faded toward evening.

Tommy was lying on his bed, staring at the featurless ceiling, considering how completely his world had disintegrated in the last few weeks.

Everything he held dear was either gone or threatened. He no longer had Powers, he was forbidden to contact his two closest friends, even if he'd wanted to, and his family was being torn apart by his father's arrest and the charges brought against him.

There was a hollowness inside him the Powers used to fill with their glowing strength. When Zordon stripped them of the Zeo Powers Tommy had felt as if he'd taken along a piece of his soul as well, as if a sort of intra-spiritual bleeding had begun, which continued still.

It would have been helpful to be able to discuss the feeling with his friends, all of whom were either going through the same process now or had gone through it. But that comfort also seemed to be denied to him, and it was a tossup as to which hurt worse.

A cold sorrow filled him when he thought of Jason and Billy, and what they were doing to his family. Tommy had always had problems trusting others, making friends. But Jason's friendship had happened so naturally, so easily ... filling the lonely teenager with a warmth he'd never known before. The sheer novelty of having someone to do things with at a moment's notice, not having to wonder if he was being kept around just for what he could give, of feeling he was valued simply for who he was ... Jason had completed him in some unknown way, and if Tommy'd ever doubted the value of that friendship it was proven now in the pain of having lost it.

With Billy it had been a much slower, subtler process. They were too different to make the instant connection he and Jason had. There was the long period of their observing each other, doing things together with the group, getting used to each other's company, learning each other's quirks. When their relationship changed from being acquaintances to being friends, Tommy could not quite say, it was too gradual to pinpoint. But in the end Billy had become as important to Tommy in his own way as Jason had. And had hurt him just as badly.

Almost as badly as Kimberly had. He knew she was back in town, he'd been driving by the Youth Center the day she arrived, and the sight of her had almost caused him to lose control of his car. He knew the other former Zeo Rangers sided with Jason and Billy, and he figured the former Morphin' Rangers would, too. He couldn't remember a time he felt so abandoned, so alone. He'd gone from having a large group of friends to being essentially friendless.

There was a corner of Tommy's mind that he tried studiously to ignore, a small part that tried to tell him to back off, to look at things logically. Jason and Billy were not the sorts to cheerfully try to destroy someone like this. But, there was no spell on them, and he knew his dad wouldn't do what they accused him of doing, so he was stuck having to make a choice. And his father was the choice he made. So he tucked away his doubts about his erstwhile friends' willingness to engage in malicious, hurtful accusations, and gave his father his full support.

He noticed a dark car pulling up the drive. Victor Manning. Tommy didn't much like his father's partner, but he had to admit the man seemed to know what he was doing. He'd heard enough of their conversations to know the plan was to completely discredit Jason and Billy, a plan Tommy heartily agreed with. He hadn't argued when Victor told him to keep away from his former friends for fear their association could be construed as harmful to their case. Victor was already talking about how they would sue Roland's two accusers once the case was won.

Roland was handling the stress well, considering, even though he'd had to cease working on any cases himself pending the outcome of the trial. He continued to do research for Victor, who would now be handling everything, and doing as much 'behind the scenes' work as he was allowed. He didn't speak of the case to Tommy or Virginia, however, beyond saying it was going well and that they'd win.

Virginia Oliver wasn't doing quite as well as her husband was. She was trying to carry on as normal, but had already taken more sick days in the last few weeks as she had in the previous ten years. Most evenings, while Roland met and talked strategy and work with Victor, Virginia sat in the den watching television and sipping a seemingly endless stream of gin-and-tonics.

Tommy spent his days mostly alone except for school, which would be ending in a couple of weeks. He didn't want to get a summer job, he wanted to be free to attend the trial, to stand by his father as a good son should. So the days passed slowly, silently, inexorably forward toward the day his father would be proven innocent, and his faith justified.

"Okay, guys, how do we attack this?" Kimberly asked, looking at the others with a perplexed expression. "All at once, or in small groups?"

"I think small groups would work best," Jason decided as he looked around at the gang: Kimberly, Katherine, Tanya, Adam, Rocky, Trini, Zack, and Billy. "You guys agree?"

"Sure thing, Oh Fearless Leader Guy. We could do it in pairs even, to get maximum coverage," Zack suggested jauntily.

"Okay, wise guy. Let's see ... Rocky, you and Tanya and Adam take north, Zack, you and Katherine take south, Trini and I will take East, Kim and Billy west. Let's move out, troops!" Jason commanded, generating a general round of laughter as the nine teenagers headed toward the Stone Canyon City Center Mall. "We'll meet at the food court at high noon, agreed?"

"Agreed!"

The last week had been a quiet one, with Kim, Zack and Trini settling back into life in Angel Grove. Adam, Rocky, Tanya, and Katherine had all been busy with getting ready for final exams for their upcoming graduation. Billy and Jason were both seeing a court-appointed therapist, which seemed to be helping them a lot, especially Billy, who appeared to be making tremendous progress in dealing with what had happened to him. The only real problem was Tommy's continued, seemingly self-imposed isolation from his friends.

This foray to the mall was to give the girls a chance to look for dresses for the dance following graduation, and shirts and slacks for the guys, as well as any other sundry items they might want. There was really no hurry; they had all day to enjoy themselves so they had also planned to see a movie at the Cineplex there as well.

"Billy, what do you think of this hat?" Kim asked, turning to her companion with a straw hat adorned with daisies perched on her head. She was having a wonderful time, and had been pleased to see Billy smile occasionally as they browsed the shops.

"Uh, nice Kim. Very ... springy?" he replied hesitantly. He really had no idea why someone as beautiful as Kimberly would want to wear a hat that hid part of her face, but didn't know how to tell Kim that without embarrassing her ... or himself. The crowd at the mall was making him a little uneasy, something else he didn't want to tell her; he'd had enough of people fussing over him recently.

"You know, you could dredge up just a little enthusiasm," Kim said, smiling to take the sting out of her words.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not really into hats," he admitted contritely.

"No kidding," she mumbled, setting the hat back on the shelf. "What would you like to get?" she asked, since he hadn't made a single purchase yet.

"I don't need anything," he replied with a shrug. "I just wanted to spend time with my friends."

Kim's smile lit up her face.

"Billy! That's nice of you to say so," she grinned. "Since you feel that way, I guess it's okay if I try on a couple more outfits, right?" she commented, ignoring his theatrical expression of dismay. But a glance at her watch changed her mind.

"Ohmigosh! Look at the time. Come on, we'll have to hurry! They're probably all waiting for us," she groaned. "I hate when I'm late!" She and Billy hurried toward the food court, moving at a fast walk.

They rounded a blind corner at the precise moment two other persons came from the opposite direction. The four collided awkwardly, just avoiding knocking each other down. As both teens regained their balance they looked to see who they'd hit, and Kim gasped in surprised recognition.

Roland and Tommy Oliver.

Tommy seemed equally surprised to see Kimberly as Roland looked over the two teens, suddenly recognizing the young man who'd walked into him. The moment spun out as the four of them stared at each other in shock.

Billy couldn't breathe as he recognized Roland and his mind was suddenly awash in memories of that afternoon in the cool basement of the Oliver home. The sights, the sounds, the smells ... and worst of all, the feeling. It was all there; he experienced the assault once again. He could hear his own voice, hoarse from screaming, begging for mercy; he could feel the sweat from the big man dripping on him; he could smell the fear, the blood, the musky scent of male sex; he could feel the smooth surface of the table against his chest; the slapping sound of flesh against flesh as his attacker plunged into his body. A sudden nauseating, stabbing agony shot through his body from his backside, causing him to gasp again in surprised pain. Then terror overwhelmed his mind with the frantic cry to flee, to get as far away from there as he could. He turned and bolted, his panic lending him additional speed.

Kimberly had turned to Billy a split second before he ran, just long enough to register his bloodless face and wide, terrified eyes. Then he was gone, and she was racing after him as quickly as she could, calling out desperately for him to stop.

Tommy had also seen the expression on his former teammate's face, and instinctively started after Kim and Billy, only to be restrained by his father.

"No, Tommy. You can't go after them. Remember, you are not to have any contact with either the Cranston or the Scott boy. Victor and I have both told you that could hurt our case. Come on, let's get out of here. I don't know what's wrong with that boy, but he's got others who can take care of him."

Roland led his son on toward the exit they'd been heading to before their ill-fated encounter. When he'd seen the pale, shocked expression on the teenager he'd had a momentary flash of that same expression, accompanied by a hoarse, barely audible voice, stuttering "N ... n ... no. P ... p ... please." He had no idea where that thought came from, and dismissed it as the result of falling asleep in front of the television.

"Hey, guys, we ready for lunch?" Rocky asked as he and Adam and Tanya rejoined the group at the entrance to the food court.

"As soon as Kim and Billy show up. Kim's probably still trying on stuff," Zack grinned.

"We may never get lunch," Rocky wailed dramatically, generating laughter form the assembled teens.

"Maybe I can run over and get you a chili corndog to tide you over," Tanya offered with a knowing grin. That was one of the few things Rocky wasn't likely to eat after having gotten thoroughly sick on one.

"That's mean, Tanya, teasing a starving man," he shot back with a grin.

"Maybe we should save some seats before the place gets any more crowded," Trini suggested practically.

"I don't think so. I think we may have a problem," Jason said, his expression troubled. The others turned to follow his gaze and saw Kimberly hurrying toward them in obvious distress, tears still visible on her too pale cheeks.

"What's wrong? Where's Billy?" Jason asked, grabbing her shoulders in a tight grip.

Kimberly looked up at him with such a distressed expression he found he couldn't maintain any anger he'd been feeling. But the dread and fear were worse than ever.

"We ... we didn't see them! We were hurrying, we were going to be late and we never saw them until be literally ran into them ..." the brown-haired girl explained.

"Ran into who?" Jason demanded, fearing the answer.

"Tommy and his dad." Her voice was a mere whisper.

"Billy came face to face with Roland Oliver?" Jason asked tersely.

"Yes."

"Oh, shit," the former Ranger leader mumbled, closing his eyes. "Where's Billy now?"

"I don't know. He freaked. He ran off. I tried to follow him, but he was too fast. We have to find him, Jason," Kim pleaded with him, tears again running down her face.

"Show us where it happened, which way he went," Jason ordered, falling immediately into leader mode. He refused to let his mind dwell on the fact that Billy was somewhere in this unfamiliar mall, terrified and alone. He knew what a flashback was like, and his heart ached for his friend.

They all followed Kimberly to the corner where they'd encountered Roland and Tommy, then she indicated the west wing of the huge complex.

"He ran down that way, but I couldn't keep up with him. He's gotten a lot faster," she explained in a shame-faced manner.

"It's okay, Kim. We'll find him. We'll have to split up. Kim, you and Adam go into the shops on this main corridor and see if they've seen Billy. Rocky, you and Tanya check the bathrooms and other out-of-the-way places. Zack, you and Kat look into the off-branching corridors and shops. Trini and I will check the outside perimeter of the building. Once you've covered your territory, go to the parking lot and start there. I'm thinking he may have gone for outside. If you find him, get the others, okay? And be aware he may be very confused, very scared. If he's huddled somewhere, don't try to force him to move. We'll deal with that when we find him, okay? Come on, guys, we can do this," he declared, pleased that they all accepted his leadership so easily. This would not have been a good time for a conflict.

Jason and Trini didn't talk as they searched the outer perimeter of the mall first, looking in every nook and cranny for their missing friend. Trini knew Jason was extremely upset, but didn't quite know how to broach the subject without setting him off.

"Jason, we'll find him. Billy's smart, he won't do anything to hurt himself," she tried to reassure him, breaking the now awkward silence.

"I know that, Trini, when he's in his right mind. But you know as well as I do if he's in the throes of a flashback, he's not in his right mind right now. And he's in an unfamiliar place, which just happens to be huge," Jason sighed, running his hands through his hair.

Trini stopped and stood in front of her companion, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. "Jason, what's really going on here?" she asked, her calm eyes meeting his tormented ones.

"God, Trini. Why didn't I report the attack right away? If I'd done that, none of this would be happening! Billy'd be safe. But all I cared about was myself, and what happened to me, and I didn't consider he might hurt someone else. Now Billy's paying for that!"

"Stop it!" Fueled by her exasperation, the slender Asian girl managed to shake the much larger teen. "This is not your fault! Jason, you did the best you could. You were hurt, you're human. You don't know the future, and you had no reason to believe he'd go after someone else. You are not at fault here. Roland Oliver is the only one at fault, and don't you forget it, Jason Lee Scott!"

Jason blinked at her outburst. "But," he began.

"No buts! It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. End of story," she lectured him in an implacable tone.

"Yes ma'am" Jason smiled faintly, giving in to her insistence. But in his heart he still felt the sting of guilt. If only he'd spoken up sooner, taken Janette's advice and told his parents what had happened! Every time he thought about what Billy must have suffered at the hands of the man, Jason had to fight a wave of crippling despair. He forced his mind away from that train of thought, concentrating instead on the search.

"From what I remember, the fear becomes literally paralyzing quite soon," he commented. "He wouldn't have run very far."

"But, he would try to find a place to hide, and there are plenty around. He always was best at hide-and-seek," Trini commented absently. She was a lot more worried about Billy than she'd ever been about Jason. The former Blue Ranger simply didn't have the same inner strength Jason did.

They had almost completed their circuit of the building when Adam ran up.

"We found him," he called out, his good news at odds with the look on his face.

"Where is he?" Jason asked anxiously.

"Would you believe in the car?" The teens had come to the mall in a van and a car, borrowed from the DeSantos and Hillard families.

"Thank God," Trini breathed. "Is he okay?"

"I don't think so. He's huddled in the backseat, shaking like a leaf, and won't let anyone near him," Adam reported, with a worried expression.

Jason and Trini exchanged a grim look. "It could be worse," Trini replied. "It could be much worse." They hurried to where the others were standing around the silver car.

Kimberly was trying to coax the terrified boy out of his hiding spot with no luck, and she turned toward Trini with an anxious look.

"I know it's getting hot in there, but he won't budge. If I try to get in he freaks out. What can we do?" She was trying valiantly to be calm, but her emotions were getting the best of her despite her efforts.

"Let me try," Trini said quietly. She opened the door and looked inside, her heart clenching at the sight of her longtime friend huddled into a miserable ball, trembling visibly. He'd managed to cram himself into the small floor space between the backseat and the back of the driver's seat, curled so much his knees were nestled under his chin. As Kim had noted, the car was stiflingly hot.

"Hey, Billy," Trini said softly. "Mind if I keep you company for a while?" She kept her voice soft and soothing, speaking of ordinary things, trying to calm the young man with her voice and manner.

"Should we call an ambulance or something?" Kimberly asked, taking her cell phone from her handbag.

"Can I borrow that? I have an idea," Jason requested. He punched in a series of numbers then held the phone to his ear. "Mom ...?"

The seven teenagers stood watching the car pull away toward the exit, their expressions a combination of horrified sorrow and guilty relief. Claire Scott had shown up with her husband and Lawrence Cranston, and between them, and Jason and Trini, had finally managed to get Billy out of the car without having to resort to brute force.

The last they'd seen of the former Ranger, he'd been clinging to his father, sobbing quietly and continually while Lawrence, who appeared to have aged a couple of decades in the last two weeks, tried his best to comfort him. Jason, who had been getting steadily more upset, left with his parents and the Cranstons. It was a brutal, stark look at the effect Roland's attack had had on their friends, and had left all of them badly shaken.

"Oh, God, I feel awful," Kim moaned, her expressive eyes reflecting her misery. "It's all my fault."

"No, it isn't, Kim. It's none of our faults. There is no way we could have predicted this would happen," Trini spoke forcefully, and took in the whole group with her stern look. "I think we better sit down and talk about this. Jason and Billy are going to need us, more than you can imagine, and I think it's only fair you know what you may be getting into beforehand. Unfortunately, Zack and I have some experience in this," she concluded, sharing a rueful look with Zack. "Let's go ahead and get the lunch we planned, okay? We can talk there."

"I'm not exactly hungry," Kim mumbled, her arms still crossed over her midsection, as they had been for the last few minutes.

"Then get something cool to drink," Trini suggested, putting a comforting arm across the smaller girl's shoulders and gently urging her back toward the mall, with the rest of the teens quietly falling in behind them.

Once everyone had collected their lunch, they gathered at a large table a bit away from most of the diners. Though the food was good, and it had been a long time since breakfast, no one had much of an appetite.

"When ... how ... did you find out about Jason?" Tanya asked finally, breaking an uncomfortable silence.

"When? About a month after we got to Geneva. He'd managed to hide what had happened to him, from just about everyone except himself," Trini told them. "As for how, I think that's Zack's tale."

"And thank you for that fine introduction, Miss Kwan!" Zack said with a dramatic flair, earning a round of wan smiles from the other teens. "As she said, though, it was about a month after we got to Switzerland. We were finally getting used to not having the Powers; I know you all know how hard that can be. Plus, we were adjusting to all the pomp and circumstance of our job there. And believe me, there was plenty of pomp, if not that much circumstance. I swear, sometimes I just wanted to jump up on a table and start dancing, just to loosen those people up.

"Anyway, after a particularly tight-assed day, Jase and I were back in our room, and I just had to do something, so I flung a pillow at him. That's all it took to get him going. He was flailing away at me with his pillow, while I was going after him, both of us laughing like loons. It was great. Such a great release for that sort of day, you know? Then he managed to grab my pillow away, and turned his back to me, trying to prevent me from getting it back. Well, I did the most natural thing in the world, something I'd done to him when roughhousing time and again, I jumped on his back to reach my pillow. Next thing I knew, I was almost literally peeling myself off the wall. I swear, he threw me halfway across the room."

Zack paused in his story and took a long sip from his soda, his eyes sadder than they had ever seen. "I was pissed, let me tell you. I looked around to tell him off, and there he was, huddled in the corner by his bed, shaking and shivering, making this horrible moaning noise. God, it scared me almost senseless to see him like that. Jason's always been the strong one, you know? Didn't get scared, was always calm. Seeing him like that, well, it was more than upsetting. I went over to him, to tell him it was okay, and when I tried to touch him, he whimpered. Jason. Jason doesn't whimper. I called Trini, 'cause I didn't even know who else to call. I hadn't really paid attention at orientation. We spent that night getting him calmed down, he'd freak even more if we tried to call anyone, and he promised us he'd see the therapist that they had available for us delegates. He did, too. And kept seeing her. He told us about what Roland Oliver did a few weeks later. He cried when he told us." Zack's eyes grew distant. "I think that's what I can't forgive Mr. Oliver for - he took Jason's strength away, his confidence. He's fought so hard to regain them, and he never should have had to."

The others were quiet, lost in thought. Zack let them have all the time they needed to process what they'd heard.

"Is ... is that the only time he's had an incident like that?" Katherine asked hesitantly.

"No, there have been others, though not as bad. There are certain things that will trigger one. Cornering him. Certain chemical smells. Jumping on his back is really not recommended. I would imagine tying him up would not go over well. And, he has a lot of bad dreams. In the beginning, after he started therapy and working through things, they came nearly every night. They tapered off gradually; last one I know about was two weeks before he left. I'd imagine they are a little more frequent now, being reminded all the time by being around Billy, and by preparing for this trial," Zack explained.

"If you want to be there for them, support them, you have to understand there will be the occasional ugliness, like what happened today," Trini informed them.

"What did happen today? I'm a little confused about that," Rocky admitted. "I mean, I understand that the sight of Tommy's dad made him remember ..."

"He probably did much more than remember," Trini interrupted him. "He flashed back to the actual event. From what Jason explained to me once, a true flashback is like being there again, experiencing all the pain, all the emotions - hate, fear, horror, humiliation. The only thing you can think of is to flee, to get away, to keep it from happening again. At least in the beginning. When he started working through therapy, and dealing with what had happened, then other reactions set in."

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "Gotta admit I really don't like that anger reaction. He was a lot easier to deal with during the fear stage."

"My God, are they ever going to be normal again?" Kat asked, looking distraught.

"Normal? Yes. Like they were before? Probably not. They were hurt in ways that are hard to comprehend. Besides the physical aspects, their trust, their belief, their innocence, as it were, was all destroyed. Yes, they will recover, but it will leave a lasting mark," Trini explained.

Kimberly stared into the depths of the soda she was slowly sipping, stirring the straw around in a distracted manner. "This just sucks, you know? They didn't do anything to deserve this. We fought more monsters than I can even recall, and now it turns out the most dangerous foe we had was Tommy's father? That just doesn't compute, you know?"

"What can we do for them? How can we help?" Adam asked quietly.

"Be there if they need us. That's the only real thing we can offer. Our support. Our understanding. If they want to talk, listen without judgment. If they don't, don't press them. Jason tended to talk AROUND it, hints and veiled references. I don't really know how Billy will react. My guess, if I had to make one, is that he won't talk about it. It's his nature usually to keep things to himself. However, his therapist may have something to say about that. And, of course, there's the trial to consider. That's going to be hard, no matter what," Trini postulated.

"Geez, I wonder how today's incident is going to affect Billy's ability to testify," Rocky wondered aloud as the others looked at him thoughtfully.

Though no one had said anything yet, Trini could feel the group drawing together, and hoped that they could supply enough support and encouragement to get their two friends through the upcoming weeks.

Richard Perkins hung up the phone with a muted curse, startling Don Bradford who happened to be walking by Richard's open office door.

"Whoa, Rich! Naughty language at this time of the morning? Must have been a doozy of a call," he teased his coworker.

"Oh, it was. About the Oliver case," he muttered.

"Something wrong?" Don asked tersely, entering the room fully. He'd spent a lot of time already interviewing potential witnesses, seeing if there were any other victims out there. Though Don tried not to take it personally, Roland Oliver had stepped on a lot of toes over the time he'd been in practice in Angel Grove, and the detective didn't mind the idea of the man taking a fall. Roland had never been accused of any sort of professional misconduct, but he was very dedicated to winning his cases no matter who he might inconvenience in the process. And Victor Manning was even worse.

"Yeah. Though I can't really place any blame, much as I'd like to. Jason and Billy's friends decided to invite them to spend Saturday at the mall in Stone Canyon, with the whole 'gang'. Seemed like a good idea, right? Should be safe enough, right? Wrong. Seems Oliver and his son had the same idea," he paused.

"Which one encountered them?" Don asked, sensing where this was going.

"Billy."

"Ouch. How'd he react?"

"A full-fledged panic attack. Took the other kids a half hour to find him after he ran off, another half hour to 45 minutes to talk him out of his hiding spot in the car. His father says he's been a total basket case since then. The therapist who's been working with him, Barbara, saw him both Saturday and Sunday, and she's livid. Says all the progress they'd made was pretty much out the window," he sighed.

"Oh, boy, that isn't going to help the case much if he can't testify. Plus, you know, I just feel sorry for the poor kid. Goes out to have some fun with his friends, and this happens," Don noted, shaking his head sadly.

"Doesn't seem quite fair, I agree. Dammit, Barbara's last report on their progress was so encouraging! Well, I guess all we can do is go onward. And there is still a month to work on this. Maybe the kid will rebound. In the meantime, did you give me the reports on your preliminary interviews? I should start lining up character witnesses," the attorney mused.

"In the file. You have some good ones to pick from. And, you know, the two friends of Jason's in Switzerland? They are back in town, as is another close friend, Kimberly Hart. I interviewed her in Florida, she's Tommy Oliver's ex-girlfriend. No problems with Roland, but she did spend a lot of time around there before she moved. More to choose from," Don reported.

"Good. Though, from what I'd already found out about the boys, I expected to find good character witnesses, and plenty of them. I'm going to see if I can get a teacher or two, maybe even the principal. The two kids who were chosen for the Peace Conference would be excellent as well. The sticking point now is if we can get Billy in condition to testify. Barbara said she'd step up the sessions as much as she can, but it's not something that can be pushed too much. Let's meet on this case tomorrow," Richard suggested, consulting his calendar. "Say, at two. Bring your notes, and let's get the strategy down."

"Got it. Tomorrow, then, for the Oliver case. Now, you needed a report on the Stevens case, right?..."

Trini had correctly figured both Claire and Joe were at work when she rang the doorbell at the Scotts' house. Jason answered the door dressed in his usual shorts and tank top, his body gleaming with a liberal coating of sweat. Obviously he'd been working out in their home gym.

"Trini, hi. Come on in," he invited with a smile, gesturing for her to follow him back out to the garage where the machines were set up.

"Working out again? I thought you were supposed to take days off in between sessions?" she queried, tilting her head a bit.

He gave her an abashed grin. "You are. But ... well ... working out makes me feel a little better," he shrugged, looking away from her with a closed expression.

"Jason Scott, you know better than to try to take that attitude with me. And you know you are supposed to talk about what's on your mind, not try to turn yourself into Arnold Schwarzenegger. You're still upset about Saturday, aren't you?" she asked quietly.

He let out a sigh, knowing he couldn't hide from his friend. "Yeah, I guess I am. Sometimes ... sometimes I just ... the memories ..." he looked away, unable to continue, sitting down on the weights bench.

"And, you still feel responsible. Oh, Jason, what am I going to do with you?" She stepped up to the burly teen, placing a gentle hand on his broad shoulder. Jason responded by reaching out and pulling her down on his lap where she could wrap her arms around his neck.

"Well, you could consider kissing me," he suggested, enfolding her slight body in his strong embrace.

"And just what exactly would you tell your parents if they happened to come home and find us? You haven't told anyone, have you?" she asked, somewhere between teasing and serious.

He flushed a little, looking away in embarrassment. "I don't know why I haven't. I'm certainly not ashamed of what we've done, our relationship. But, I guess I figured my folks have enough to deal with right now. And we haven't exactly decided what our relationship is anyway, have we?"

"No. Friends for now, I'd say, very intimate friends," she said with a warm smile. "Let's get past the upcoming unpleasantness, then we can decide if we are meant to be something more. Sound reasonable to you?"

His eyes took on a glow she couldn't help responding to as he said huskily, "Very reasonable." He pressed his lips against hers in the gentlest of caresses, halting further discussion. The feathery touch was quickly intensified to a passionate exploration of each other's mouths, their hands roving over now-familiar and welcome territory, sliding under clothing to gloss over warm, smooth skin.

For a little while at least, the two lovers forgot what had happened in the past, forgot what was going to happen in the future, and concentrated on a very pleasurable present.

It was one of those perfect Angel Grove afternoons; bright, clear and mellow. Kimberly was desperate to get out to enjoy it, finding the temperate weather a welcome relief after the heat and humidity of Florida. Not really in the mood for company, she headed out to the park, intending to take a nice long walk and simply relax. School was letting out early all that week for extracurricular activities since it was the last week of the school year, so the park was already fairly crowded. She hurried past the more popular areas and settled down to a comfortable stroll once away from the crowd.

Lost in her thoughts and pleasant daydreams, she didn't notice the tall figure rapidly approaching until he was quite close. It took only a second for her to recognize it as Tommy, out for a jog. She stood her ground and let her former boyfriend approach.

Tommy slowed, then stopped, looking at Kimberly with a neutral expression. "Hi, Kim," he said awkwardly.

"Hi," she replied, just as awkwardly, remembering their former ease with each other with a pang of regret. "Glad to see you out and around."

"I needed to get out, and figured I wouldn't run into anyone here," he explained.

"Funny, that was my plan, too. Though I'm glad I ran into you. I've been worried about you." She fixed him with a warm, concerned look.

"Why? Just because my two best friends are trying to destroy my father?" he asked scathingly.

Kim looked at him closely. "Do you really believe that?"

He met her eyes frankly, his expression filled with painful anger, then he broke the contact, his head falling forward as he sighed deeply. "No ... yes ... I don't know. My first thought was that they were under a spell, but Zordon couldn't find a trace of one, and now any further investigation that way is unavailable."

"You did have them scanned?" she asked, a bit surprised.

"Yeah. Had to argue like crazy to get Zordon to go along with it. They both came up clean." He paused, his eyes again seeking out Kim's. "Kim, my dad wouldn't do that, I know he wouldn't. I understand they were hurt, I really do. I saw the look on Billy's face Saturday, but ... I swear to you, my dad couldn't have done that."

Kim considered him solemnly. "Oh, Tommy, this is such a mess. I guess if it was my dad, I'd feel the same way."

"So you're siding with them," he concluded bitterly.

"I'm not 'siding' with anyone. I don't know what happened, I wasn't there, only the participants know for certain. I do know Billy and Jason don't lie, especially about something like this. If you want to know the truth, I'm hoping for a mysterious 'third party' to show up and be at fault. Someone who could easily be mistaken for your dad. A clone even ..." she trailed off thoughtfully.

"Sorry, Kim. I ... uh ... I had Zordon check for that, too. It's my dad, not a clone," he smiled ruefully at her. "But, the fact you even considered that ... well ... thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Somehow it will work out, Tommy. You have to believe that," she said with quiet conviction, laying a small, warm hand on his arm. He closed his own hand over it as he considered her.

"Thank you. I've ... I've missed you. Somehow, no matter what was going on, you always found a way to make it better," he said so softly he might have been speaking to himself.

"I know I really hurt you with that letter. I'm so sorry, Tommy. I was in danger of washing out of the team, and Coach Schmidt told me I was too distracted, that I had to simplify my life, cut out everything that wasn't directly related to my gymnastics. You were one of those things. I regretted sending it as soon as it was gone, I was such an idiot," her voice trailed off.

"Kim, you have to give it your all, I understand that. I want you to have your chance to prove to the world just how talented you are," he stopped when he saw the tears in her eyes. "Kimberly, what is it?"

"I didn't make the team. I got cut last month," she confessed. "So it was all for nothing, after all."

In an act that was as natural as breathing, Tommy pulled Kimberly into a gentle, comforting embrace. "I'm sorry, Kim. I know how hard you worked for that, how much it meant to you."

"I was stupid to even think I had a chance," she muttered, her voice muffled by Tommy's shoulder.

"Kimberly Ann Hart, don't you ever say that! You're one of the most beautiful, talented people I've ever known, and if they didn't realize that then it's their loss," he declared emphatically.

She pulled back a little to look up at him. "That's sweet, thank you." She sniffed delicately then smiled a little. "Aren't I supposed to be comforting you?"

"We'll comfort each other," he decided, releasing her reluctantly.

"Sounds good to me," she smiled, taking his hand. They began to walk through the park, along the paths they'd strolled when their relationship was just beginning, rarely speaking, both simply enjoying being in each other's company.

The buzz of the intercom interrupted Richard Perkins from his perusal of the various reports spread all over his table. He hit the reply button impatiently.

"What is it, Brenda?" he asked distractedly.

"The Scotts and Cranstons are here for their meeting with you," his secretary announced calmly, used to his sometimes abrupt manner.

"Already? Oh, it's two. Please show them in," he requested, scooping the papers back into their files.

He looked up with a smile at the five people with whom he'd be spending a significant amount of time in the next few weeks. "How're you folks doing?"

Various murmurs sounding vaguely positive greeted his question, as he looked them all over appraisingly. Jason and his parents seemed to be doing well, perhaps a little tense, but that was to be expected under the circumstances. The same could not be said for either of the Cranstons, however. Lawrence looked tired; signs of depression making him seem much older. Billy frankly looked like hell. It didn't take a detective to see the kid wasn't eating well; he'd struck Richard as slim but well built when they first met; now the boy could at best be described as outright thin, his blue eyes dull and surrounded by dark circles that told of a long spell of sleepless nights.

Keeping his pleasant expression firmly in place, Richard cursed inwardly. If Billy didn't make significant progress during the next four weeks, there was no way he could risk putting him on the witness stand, and the attorney knew the case would be lost before it began if either boy could not testify. The police had not found one clue at the scene of the assaults, outside of the fact there was a table down there. But there was no way to know if anyone had been tied to it, or assaulted on it. No other victims had been located, if they even existed. The two teens' testimony was crucial.

"I thought we'd get together and go over what we will be doing to get ready for court, and what we plan to do once the trial begins. First thing is, starting next week, I'm going to interview character witnesses for you two. I'd like to line up at least one teacher, maybe the principal of the school. Is there a minister or priest who would know either of you well enough to testify?"

"The minister, Roy Callahan, at the Methodist Church has known Billy since we moved here," Lawrence supplied.

"And Father Giovanine at the Catholic Church knows Jason very well," Claire chipped in.

"Great. The first ones will be witnesses basically telling the jury that Jason and Billy are good kids, don't lie, don't get in trouble, that sort of thing. Then we want to bring in witnesses to what was done. The doctor and a couple nurses from the hospital, the paramedics as well. During their testimony the pictures taken at the hospital will be shown to the jury. Jason, I'm sorry to put you through this, but I need for you to be examined by a proctologist to determine if there was any lasting damage from when you were assaulted; if there was, that will be discussed. Then we'll present reports from Jason's therapist from Geneva, plus Barbara, of course. The two friends from Geneva who helped Jason through his therapy, Trini and Zack, is it? Some expert witnesses to talk about rape, the physical and psychological effects. After that testimony you two will take the stand. Jason first, then Billy. Do you two know how the questioning works?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," Jason replied while Billy nodded mutely.

"Good. Before you testify, we will have practiced; I'll try my best to prepare you for what the defense attorney may ask. It's going to be very hard for you both, I won't lie about that."

"Do you think we have a chance of winning?" Jason asked abruptly.

Richard paused to think about it. "Yes, I do. But a lot will depend on how you two do on the stand. We never found any evidence in the basement, so it's your word against his at this time. But that's often the case in these sorts of situations. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Not really. I still don't want him to ever do this to anyone else," Jason said slowly.

"Billy?" the lawyer asked quietly.

"No. No second thoughts," he replied softly.

"Okay, then. We will proceed as if we know we're going to win," Richard declared, opening his note pad and poising his pen for work. "Let's decide on some potential witnesses, and I'll start calling tomorrow."

"My meeting with Mr. Perkins is at two thirty," Trini told Jason, her nervousness evident even over the phone lines.

"Trini, he's really nice, you'll like him," Jason reassured her.

"I know, you said that. But, this is serious, Jason. It makes me nervous. And, I think I'm going to tell him about us. I think I need to," she all but whispered.

"Trini, if you think that's what you need to do, you know I won't object. It's not like I'm ashamed of what we've done," he replied.

"I know. And I think he'd rather know now, than to find out when I'm testifying under oath at the trial. Which means I should also tell my parents," she said.

"And I mine, I guess. Oh, boy, like they haven't had enough surprises recently," he commented ruefully. "But, for what it's worth, I think you're right. We pretty much agreed to not keep any secrets from him and Don Bradford, the detective. I'm sorry I left that for you, though quite honestly I didn't think about telling him. I just didn't see any reason."

"That's okay, Jason. I can handle this," she said stoutly. "I'll call you later tonight and let you know how it went, okay?"

"Sounds good. Good luck, Trini, and also, thank you. I suppose I haven't said it recently, or enough, but thank you for everything," he said huskily.

He could hear her smile over the phone lines. "You're welcome. I'll talk to you later. Okay? Bye," then the soft click of her hanging up. Jason set the phone back on its cradle and remembered how it had been, and how it started...

Four Months Before, Geneva...
Jason looked at the empty bed on the other side of their dorm room and sighed. Zack was off on another of his beloved theater field trips, this time to Spain, an activity Jason found to be boring in the extreme. He turned his attention back to the book he was trying to read, finding he'd completely forgotten what was supposed to be happening in the story.

Ten minutes later he decided he simply wasn't going to be able to stand being in that room another moment, so he went in search of Trini.

He found his pretty friend in her room, sitting quietly on her bed with tears drying on her cheeks.

"Trini! What happened?" he asked, sinking down beside her and taking her hand in his.

"Hi Jason. Nothing, really ..." she started to murmur, but he interrupted her.

"Trini, 'nothing' does not make you cry. Did you get bad news from home?"

Mutely she handed him a crumpled piece of paper. He opened it and read it quickly, frowning as he went.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. For what it's worth, Richie's an idiot for doing this," he said, looking at her intently.

"No, he's not. I understand his reasons, really. But ... I had hoped it would work out. I was really looking forward to seeing him again this summer, I'd built up all these dreams of how he'd greet me, how he'd sweep me up in his arms and tell me he missed me, how he'd kiss me right there in front of everyone like Tommy used to do with Kimberly. Guess that's not going to happen; I feel like such an idiot," she sighed, fresh tears slowly creeping down her face.

Jason didn't stop to think about it, he simply reacted by reaching out to draw the slender girl into a warm embrace. She let herself relax into his arms, hiding her face in his neck while he gently rubbed her back in a soothing manner.

He didn't realize it, but it was the first time since Roland's attack that he'd reached out to someone else's pain, forgetting his own problems. All his innate concern for others, somehow muted by the attack and the aftereffects, finally came to the forefront again. He tried to figure out what they could do to take Trini's mind off Richie's unceremonious dumping of the pretty Asian girl.

"You want to go out for one of those godawful coffee things you like so much?" he asked with a grin when she seemed calmer. As he had hoped, his unconventional invitation brought a smile to her face.

"Gee, Jason, spending all this time in a foreign country sure has made you sophisticated," she smiled, unable to resist his grin.

"Yep, the folks back home will be mighty impressed," he laughed, puffing out his chest in mock pride. "Come on, before I change my mind and we end up with hotdogs or something like that."

They ended up at the small café near the dorms, sipping espresso on the open patio, and people-watching. They didn't talk much, Trini was in an introspective mood and Jason had never been that good at small talk. The fact that they were together was enough.

Afterward, Jason escorted her to her dorm room, pausing to look down into her almond eyes with a look of warm concern. "You going to be okay?"

Trini's smile was both grateful and a bit sad. "I think so. Thank you, Jason. Would ... would you like to come in for a minute?" She'd enjoyed their evening and found she didn't want to be alone.

"Sure," he replied easily, entering the room and taking a seat on one of the motel-style chairs. Soon they were chatting about one of the recent seminars they had attended, chuckling over some of the more absurd ideas they'd encountered.

"Guess I should get going before your roommate comes back," Jason said at last, rising from his chair.

Trini rose with him. "She's on the same fieldtrip Zack is. The place is mine for tonight." She looked up at Jason then stepped a little closer. "Thank you, Jason," she said, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

Later neither one could really say exactly how that chaste peck on the cheek turned into an anything but chaste French kiss. When Jason found his lips locked against Trini's sweet mouth he gently caressed her lips with his tongue, requesting, and being granted, access. His arms went around her slim shoulders and small waist, pulling her tight against his solid mass as her arms locked behind his neck. Time stood still as their tongues dueled gently, exploring each other's oral depths, breaking apart only when lack of oxygen threatened.

Jason's dark eyes sought out Trini's, wondering how far she wanted to take this. The gleam in those beautiful eyes sent a shiver of desire through Jason, and he drew her back into his embrace, his lips once again fastening on hers. After several slow, sweet minutes, his lips began to wander, moving across one smooth cheek, to nibble at a delicate ear. From there a series of soft nipping kisses led him down her throat, which he lavished with a multitude of gentle sucking, nibbling caresses which had her producing a low moan of pleasure. Jason wasn't thinking about what they were doing, what he was doing, he was working on instinct and impulse, watching Trini's reactions to determine what she liked. Greatly daring, he worked one hand had up under her shirt to gloss across her smooth back while the other cupped her shapely tush, pulling her tight against him. He could feel her small, surprisingly strong hands caressing his back.

He was quickly becoming aroused and forced himself to pull back with an effort. "Trini ... uh ... do you want me to keep going or go home? I ... I don't want to take advantage ... you ..." he was getting frustrated at not being able to say what he meant.

But it seemed she understood his question. Her answer was to take his hand and gently lead him to the bed, where they sat down on the edge for a moment.

"Are you sure?" he asked huskily.

"Absolutely," she replied, moving further onto the bed, resting her back against the headboard. "Come here."

He gave her a searching look, wondering if this was the right thing to do, but the message he was receiving from his own body overrode his debate and he moved up beside his friend. Turning toward her, he lovingly cupped her face in his warm hands and again kissed her gently, passionately, delighting in her response.

He slid one hand up her blouse, cupping a pert breast inside its lacy confinement, rubbing a gentle thumb over the straining nipple. Trini's moans of pleasure encouraged the teen, who began to cautiously unbutton the pale yellow garment. Finally divesting her of the blouse, he encountered problems with the tiny, lacy bra she was wearing.

"What's the secret to this? Is this what inspired the term 'booby trap'?" he muttered in frustration, drawing a bell-like laugh from Trini. She quickly found the fastening, pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor.

Jason paused for a moment, awed by the sight of those small, firm breasts. The thought that pictures simply didn't do them justice flitted through his mind as he moved his attentions to them, lavishing caresses on the incredibly smooth, sweet mounds; licking, nipping, kissing, sucking, until Trini was nigh on wild with pleasure and desire. His hands moved to the fastening on her jeans, but were interrupted short of their goal as she grabbed his pullover, baring him to the waist.

"Not yet, my turn," she murmured as she pushed against the broad chest, running her hands over the warm expanse appreciatively. He settled back and let her explore his upper body with her warm mouth and soft lips, delighting in the feathery caresses and in the look of pleasure on her face. She smiled proudly when her efforts brought forth a rumbling growl of pleasure from the young man. This time it was a simultaneous reaching for the fastening of each other's pants, which caused them both to giggle softly.

"Might be easier of we did this ourselves, huh?" Jason smiled, pausing to watch Trini quickly shuck off her jeans and underwear, skimming off shoes and socks in the process until she way lying there perfectly, gloriously nude before him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked shyly, noticing he'd stopped stripping when distracted by her disrobing.

"Uh? Oh, no, sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, quickly shedding the remainder of his clothes. Her look of appreciation was not lost on him as he reached out to draw her into his embrace. They both gasped in surprised pleasure at the sensation of full body, skin to skin contact.

"Oh, man, Trini, you feel wonderful," Jason whispered, nearly overwhelmed with the sight and feel of her.

Unencumbered, they resumed their explorations, hands and questing fingers moving over each other's bodies like silk. Growing more bold and aroused, Trini finally dared to reach a timid hand down to grasp Jason's straining manhood. As her fingers closed around the hard shaft he let out a low moan she at first interpreted as desire. Then she looked at his expression.

"Oh, God, Jason!" she gasped, releasing him at once. His face had turned deathly pale, his eyes were terror stricken behind a glaze of tears, and his breath starting to come in short, panicked gasps. As soon as Trini's hand had closed around his shaft his mind had brought back up Roland Oliver and what he had done to Jason that day in the basement. In an instant, pleasure turned to terror as the young man experienced a vivid flashback.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered repeatedly as she cursed herself for a fool. She had known, dammit, known what had been done to him. Though he'd never specifically said, she had done some research and from what she'd learned had guessed that Tommy's dad had brought him to orgasm, probably using his hand. She should have realized touching him that way could cause a problem.

"No, Jason, I'M sorry," she said softly, staying close but not touching him. "I should have realized, not gone so fast."

"I wasn't even thinking of what happened," he murmured, not responding to her comments yet. "I'd forgotten ... until you touched me. This is so stupid!"

Trini reacted instinctively, putting her arms around Jason in an effort to comfort him, feeling the tremors that had started running through his body. She had seen him have flashbacks before, and understood that he would need time to calm back down, so she didn't press him with questions but simply provided the solace of her touch and understanding presence.

At last Jason's breathing returned to normal and the tremors ceased, only to be replaced by a dull flame of embarassment and a resigned feeling that he'd never be 'normal' again.

"I'm sorry, Trini, I didn't realize ... I should have known this wouldn't work," he muttered.

"Yes, it will." Her adamant tone brought his eyes to hers, torn between astonishment and shame. Trini smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Jason, so you had a flashback. It's completely understandable under the circumstances. I'M the one who should apologize. I shouldn't have just touched you there without warning, I shouldn't have gotten so carried away," she countered. "He touched you that way, didn't he?"

Jason nodded miserably. "When he was finished. He made sure I ... I reached completion, to humiliate me, I guess. Seems it worked real well."

Trini reached out a gentle hand and lifted Jason's head so he was looking at her. She spoke gently, but firmly. "Jason Scott, you stop that. Right now. Roland Oliver is not going to win, we've all agreed to that; you and me and Zack. He's not going to ruin your life, much as it seems he wanted to. Now, tell me something: do you wish to continue?"

Tormented dark eyes met hers with surprise and no small amount of respect. "I'd like to, yes. But, I don't know if I can," he admitted at last, glancing down at his now flaccid organ.

"I think you may be surprised," she smiled reassuringly.

"Let's try this again, okay? But first, you need to realize my touching you is not the same as when he touched you. I know Zack helped you get past the problem with being touched, especially from behind. But, correct me if I'm wrong, touching you intimately was not part of the program," she said lightly. He blanched suddenly at the image that produced, a spasm of fear crossing his features, and Trini could have bitten her tongue.

"I'm sorry, Jason. I didn't mean to make light of what you're going through."

"It's okay, Trini, I know you aren't," he reassured her.

"Now lie back here comfortably. How about I give you a massage first, to help us both relax a little? Sound good?" she asked. At his nod she rose to her knees beside him, reaching over to the bedside table and fumbling with something there. The soft, faint scent of roses reached him and he understood she was using some sort of lotion. She started on the front of his shoulders, correctly figuring that was a safe area for him. As he relaxed under her hands, she moved her attention to other areas, finally getting him to roll over so she could massage his broad back. She giggled as a low grumbling sound of pleasure issued from the now thoroughly relaxed former Ranger.

"Roll back over, please," she requested, backing away a little to allow him to do as she asked. She was pleased to note his manhood was showing the beginning signs of renewed interest in the proceedings and decided it was time for them to try again.

"Jason, look at me. Keep looking at me, and understand that you are being touched by someone who cares about you, cherishes you, and would never hurt you," she said soothingly, reaching out to again caress his organ. He flinched, the nightmares again in his eyes, but she continued to talk to him quietly, reassuring him, insisting he look at her. It worked. Soon the only thing in those midnight orbs was renewed desire, and the shaft in her hand was again hard and hot.

It wasn't long before his natural generosity and concern asserted itself, and the warm hands reached for his petite partner, drawing her closer. His eyes glowed with lust as he began a gentle exploration of the various delights that were Trini. His questing caresses soon had her all but purring, but he knew there had to be something more he could do for her. "Where ... how ..." he stumbled over the question he wanted to ask until her musical laughter quieted him.

"Here," she said, guiding one large hand to the place that would produce the most pleasure for her. The soft moan of desire and gentle shudder of pleasure that shook her slender frame told him he was on the right track as she surrendered herself to his ministrations.

He'd resumed his celebration of her breasts as his fingers worked her pleasure spot, so he didn't notice her activities until she pulled away a bit from him and again reached for his organ, showing him the condom she had in her hand. "Okay?" she queried.

"Oh, God, yes," he all but moaned as she reached for him again. She attempted to slide it on his rigid pole, but it seemed the recalcitrant device had other ideas, and it was obvious even to their inexperienced eyes something was wrong.

"Is it supposed to look like that?" she asked, puzzled, as he gave a low chuckle of amusement.

"I don't think so. Do you have another? Let me try, I think you're supposed to roll them on," he replied, reaching for a new condom. His attempt worked a bit better and he looked questioningly at her. She gave him a slow smile as she pulled at his shoulders, indicating he should take the top position. Maneuvering himself between her spread legs, he leaned over her delicate body, taking his weight on his arms, leaning in to kiss her gently.

Jason was nearly overwhelmed by the depth of trust Trini was placing in him, by the thought that he could actually enjoy touching and being touched. As he kissed her throat, feeling the pulse of life just below the soft surface, he was overcome by a surge of emotion: love for the young woman he'd known for so long, gratitude for what she was doing and had done, respect for the warmth and courage she had in such abundance, and a pure and simple lust. He knew he'd nearly reached the point of no return, and carefully moved upward a little more.

She could feel the heat of his questing manhood blindly seeking her opening, could see the cresting passion in his gaze. Shifting her position to allow better access, she reached down to guide it home, giving her tacit agreement to continue with that action. Giving in to his urges, he gave a firm thrust, and she gasped in surprised pain as it breached her virgin entry.

"Trini?" he asked in concern, drawing back and looking at her, his expression a mixture of worry and ecstasy. Her warm passage felt so good around his needy anatomy.

"I'm fine, Jason, fine. Just surprised. Please, keep going, please," she encouraged him, using her hands on his muscular tush to give him the right idea. There had been some discomfort, but it paled in comparison to his look of surprised delight and the greater pleasures she sensed she would soon experience.

With a couple more hard thrusts he was buried to the hilt in her moist channel, and he paused to savor the warm grip of her body as she wrapped her legs around him. Finally responding to the mute thrusting of her hips, he began to work in and out, quickly establishing a smooth rhythm, which gradually increased as their passion crested. Locking lips with his lover again, Jason felt the body beneath him quiver and the passage around his organ tightened suddenly as her orgasm burst through her. It took him over the top with her, as he also began to quake with his release. Slowly coming down from the peak, Jason carefully withdrew and rolled himself off Trini, both of them still gasping happily.

"Gives a ... gives a whole new meaning to 'morphinominal', huh?" she giggled at last, giddy in the afterglow.

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled, turning to her again. He raised himself above her and tenderly kissed her. "Thank you."

She ran her hands over the planes of his face, looking him in the eye. "In case you didn't notice, I enjoyed myself quite thoroughly. Thank you."

They cuddled for a time, before retiring in turn to the small bathroom to clean up, returning to the bed where they slept in each other's arms, content and happy.

"How does it work, Jason? How does talking about it all the time work? I just don't get it," Billy looked over at his friend with a puzzled expression.

Jason smiled a bit, taking another bite of his apple before answering. More and more Billy was asking him about his recovery process, which Jason took as a positive sign. "I don't know the answer to that, Billy. But I do know it works. It did for me, and it will for you, of that I'm certain. Already you're looking a little easier about what happened."

"I don't feel that much easier. Yesterday Dad walked into the kitchen when I was eating my lunch, and he just touched my shoulder. Jase, I about leapt out of my skin. Spilled my soup, scared Dad half out of his wits, even managed to break the bowl when I knocked it off the table in my haste to get away from him. Does that sound like I'm getting better?" he asked bitterly.

"Yes."

"How can you say that?" Billy wondered, frankly surprised.

"You were eating, weren't you? Billy, I have no idea how much weight you've lost, but I do know it's too much. That you were eating lunch is a good sign," Jason said mildly.

The former Blue Ranger couldn't help but smile at Jason's logic. "Only you, Jason. Only you would find something positive in that." He sighed deeply, his momentary good humor gone as if it had never existed. "I'm so tired of being afraid, of jumping every time someone touches me."

Jason contemplated his friend, considering. He knew exactly what Billy was going through; he remembered it all too well. He also remembered what he and Zack had done to alleviate his problem, and wondered if he could ... if he should ... try to help Billy the same way. A closer look at his friend's miserable expression made up his mind.

"Billy, I do understand how you feel. I felt the same way, I wanted ... needed ... to be touched, but every time someone got near, I'd be afraid. I'd back off or lash out. Zack and I were sharing a pretty small room at the time, and he bore the brunt of my problem. It was his idea to try to get me past the worst of my fear, and it worked. But it wasn't easy. If you want, we could try it. If you trust me, that is," Jason suggested.

"I trust you Jason, it's me I don't trust. What do you have in mind?" While he hated being fearful all the time, he found Jason's warning tone to be omnious.

"What we did was he sat down on the floor, and I sat in front of him, with my back to him. Then he simply held me, from behind. That's all he did, but, God, it took forever for me to get used to it. The memories just overwhelmed me, but Zack was patient, he rode it out until I was completely relaxed. And the best part was, it worked. Oh, I still had my problems with being touched sometimes, still do occasionally, but it was like a barrier had dropped at last, and casual physical contact with others no longer freaked me out. Do you want to try?"

Billy looked at him, hope and fear at war in the weary blue eyes. "I ... I don't know if I can do this."

"You won't know until you try," Jason pointed out reasonably. "I won't force you into anything. We'll take it slow and easy, and if you really think you can't go on, we'll stop, I promise."

Though his stomach clenched at the idea of being touched ... being held ... he'd always trusted Jason, and had never regretted it. "O ... okay. What do I do?"

Jason smiled and sat down on the thickly carpeted floor, his back against the couch, his legs spread. "Come and sit here," he said, indicating a spot between his legs and perhaps half a foot away from him. Billy gave him a last, searching look, then took a seat where indicated, facing away from Jason.

"Perfect. Just relax Billy, I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, you're safe here, I promise," Jason said soothingly, seeing his friend was trembling at his proximity behind him. The dark-haired teen continued to speak gently until Billy seemed more relaxed and comfortable.

"Billy, I'm going to touch your shoulders now, okay? I'm not going to grab you, I'm just going to rub them gently." He very carefully put his hands on his friend's shoulders, saddened by the shudder of fear he felt run through the too-thin body in front of him. He began the gentlest of massages, continuing to speak as gently to Billy as he would to a child, encouraging and reassuring his friend that all was okay. It was a long spell before he felt the tension and fear leave Billy, and the bunched muscles in the shoulders beneath his hands relaxed at last.

"Billy, I'm going to reach around you and pull you a little closer to me, okay? This may scare you some, but try to ride it out, okay? You're doing great, just close your eyes and let the feelings come to the surface, let the fear out, it will be okay," Jason instructed, suiting gentle action to words. As he had expected, as soon as his arms wrapped around Billy's body and pulled him in closer, Billy began to shake harder than ever, moaning softly in fear. "It's okay, shhh ... it's okay," Jason soothed him, feeling the shuddering sobs that now possessed his friend. He was holding Billy loosely, he could get away at any time, but he didn't even try. Jason's respect for his friend soared as he realized just how completely Billy was cooperating with this idea, how deeply he trusted Jason to not hurt him. It was a testament to that trust that Billy didn't fight against Jason's hold despite his obvious terror.

The former Ranger leader maintained a firm, but not hard, hold on his friend, offering verbal and physical gestures of comfort, while carefully avoiding anything that could be construed in the slightest as sexual. He knew Billy was reliving the assault again, and his hope was that by doing this Billy would begin to truly understand that not all embraces from behind involved pain and humiliation. He felt moisture on his bare arms, and it took him a minute to realize that it was tears.

"Ah, Billy, come on, please, it's okay, you'll be okay, you're fine," he crooned softly. He felt his own control weakening as his friend's struggle reminded him of his own, far from complete recovery. He hadn't expected this, but he found he couldn't fight it; his own tears fell unheeded as he continued to hold his childhood friend.

Time had no meaning to the two teens as they both strove to bring their emotions back under some sort of control. Gradually they settled down, and Jason gratefully sensed his friend relax in his arms at long last. When he felt Billy had had enough time to get thoroughly used to being held in this manner, he again tightened his grip, to one Billy would not easily be able to escape. Tension returned to the former Ranger's body, but nothing like it had been. Once the fear had passed again, Jason moved his legs closer together, bending them so they were over Billy's blue-jean-clad ones. This time Billy hardly reacted at all and Jason knew finally that his plan had worked, at least a little.

"How're you doing, Bro? How're you feeling?" Jason asked at last.

Billy was slow to respond, and when he did his voice was very soft. "I think I'm okay. That was ... intense."

"Yeah. You did great, though," the former Red Ranger said quietly, still holding on closely to Billy.

"If you say so. Was it like that for you?"

"Yeah, very much so. I was terrified when Zack put his arms around me. Took a lot of guts for him to do that, considering how I'd thrown him into a wall the first time he tried to grab me from behind," he chuckled.

"Guess you didn't have to fear that, huh?" Billy put his two hands up and ran them lightly over Jason's arms. "God, I hope this worked."

"Me too. I'd hate to think I put you through that for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing, Jason. I'm sure of that. But I'd just as soon not have to go through that again. I guess you could let me go, now," Billy replied, pulling slightly away from Jason.

The burly teen released his grip and watched Billy stand up a little shakily and move over to the easy chair. Jason remained seated on the floor.

"That was a big step, Billy, you should be proud of yourself. It took a lot of courage."

Billy expression showed he was considering the experience. "I don't know what to say, except thank you. I feel like a load has been taken off me, though I have no idea why." He mentally shook himself, not ready to examine the experience too closely yet. A change in mood seemed to be in order. "Maybe you should consider a career in psychology," Billy grinned, knowing full well what Jason's career dreams entailed.

"A law enforcement shrink? No way, buddy. As soon as I can convince my parents that I'm serious, I'm going to the police academy. I'll leave this psycho stuff to others, I want to bust some heads," Jason mock-growled, knowing what Billy was doing and willing to go along with it.

"Then marry a shrink. You can bust the heads and she can fix 'em," the former Ranger quipped back. It wasn't all that funny, but the two teens burst into laughter at that comment, and Lawrence, who'd just come home from the store, nearly dropped a gallon of milk in his surprise.

It had been a too-long time since he'd heard laughter in this house.

"Do you have a handle on how Perkins is going to approach this case? How to diffuse his accusations and the witnesses' testimony?" Roland Oliver asked his attorney pointedly. It was Thursday evening, the trial would start Monday morning.

"Yes, I believe we have it all covered. Their so-called 'expert witnesses' can easily be contradicted, psychology is hardly an exact science. Character witnesses? I am presenting a witness to discuss the often inherent emotional instability of genius. And the idea the Scott boy is simply backing Cranston's play - perhaps even being blackmailed. And a couple of their character witnesses may backfire. High School Principal Victor Caplan will be asked about an episode where he was attacked by Cranston and Zack Taylor. Completely unprovoked and in front of dozens of witnesses. I've found two classmates who will testify to sometimes odd behavior by both boys. We are going to paint a picture of a severely disturbed young man, a genius, who manipulates others to serve his purposes. In this case, to destroy Tommy through you." Victor was smugly pleased with his plan to discredit Roland's two accusors.

"And his plan is what, again?" Roland knew the scenario they'd created, but needed the reassurance of hearing Victor describe it.

"Okay, from the top. Cranston either was actually attacked randomly or paid someone to attack him. He blackmailed the Scott boy into backing his play, perhaps having some information to threaten him with. Kwan is backing Scott because they are lovers, Taylor is being blackmailed as well. Cranston wants to destroy Tommy because of your son's relationship with Kimberly Hart, whom Cranston secretly desires. I have a copy of a note a classmate found, written by Cranston in junior high declaring his love for the Hart girl. Cranston's IQ is almost immeasurably high, he's at risk for mental illness. Simply put, he snapped. Anything to add?" The attorney asked with a sneer, thinking about the absurdity of the charges the teens were making.

"How do we refute the obvious physical damage to Cranston?" Roland prompted.

"We don't; they're genuine injuries. The kid's psychotic. Will go to any length to succeed in his plan."

"I know we have this possible scenario all worked out, but off the record, do we really have any idea why they did this? Why they are pressing charges?" Tommy's father asked.

"I've tried to find evidence of any reason for this to have happened, but there's nothing to find, it seems," Victor shrugged. The 'why' of the matter didn't much interest him.

Roland sighed, and looked away. "Well, we have a good plan, but I have to admit ... I never expected this from Billy. He always seemed to be a good kid. Guess you never know, right? But, Victor, remember not to go overboard on this. Most folks haven't seen anything but normal behavior from these kids, plus, they do have evidence of physical damage to the boy. And if we go too far, well, even Tommy might try to argue about it in court. I want to be cleared, but I don't want to hurt my son any more than he's already being hurt by his friends' actions. Tommy deserves to be protected."

"Right. It'll be a tightrope walk, but that is what we do best. It's not going to be an easy case, Roland. We should keep you from coming to jail; all we have to do is prove reasonable doubt. I just want you cleared, your name cleared. That's the ultimate goal."

The warm afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the table below with bright pinpoints of light. The seven teenagers gathered around that table didn't pay any attention to the beauty of the setting, though, engrossed as they were in making their plans.

"So we meet on the front steps each morning at 7:30, right?" Tanya repeated, making sure everyone had the correct meeting time.

"Yep, bright and early with a smile in our hearts and a song on our faces," Rocky agreed nonsensically.

The smiles that generated were a bit forced. The last few weeks had been hard at best, with all of them being interviewed by attorneys on both sides. Trini and Zack were testifying for the prosecution, Kimberly, Adam, and Rocky for the defense.

After meeting with Tommy in the park, Kimberly had told the others about it, stating quite firmly that she intended to maintain contact with him. The resulting discussion had gotten a bit heated, but in the end they decided that was not something they wanted to have come between them. They all respected Kim enough to accept that she had a different opinion, and the general consensus was that they agreed to disagree. Though they did not doubt that Roland Oliver was the one who attacked Jason and Billy, a belief shared by Kimberly herself, despite her words to Tommy. Katherine, Trini, and Tanya had each at one time or another gone with Kim to see Tommy, a gesture that had meant a lot to the young man. He'd begun to feel that his one-time teammates and friends had all found him guilty of some crime he was unaware of. It was a warm feeling to know that they understood he wasn't responsible for whatever happened to Jason and Billy.

"You all understand that some of the testimony will be ... hard ... to hear?" Trini reminded them. She'd had a particularly difficult time of it recently, having to tell her parents, and her friends, of her relationship with Jason, knowing that she would have to discuss it in court in front of a jury, a judge, and other strangers. She was grateful that her friends and family had accepted the news in a nonjudgmental manner.

"Yes," Katherine murmured, looking down. Of all the former Rangers, she was having the hardest time dealing with the fact of what had happened to the two teens. Though she wanted to believe she was not prejudiced, the thought of anal sex was repulsive to her at a purely instinctual level. That two people she cared about had been forced into the act was nearly incomprehensible to her.

"Kat," Tanya said softly, putting a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulders. "If you can't deal with being there for some of the testimony, everyone will understand. And it would be better to not show up than to have to run out halfway through, okay?" she said gently. She, Kim, and Trini had all talked to the Australian about how she was feeling, and they understood her problem even if they didn't share it.

"Thank you," Kat replied in a whisper, still unable to meet the others' eyes. She felt a coward for her reaction, though she was at a loss as to how else to deal with it.

"And you guys will restrain yourselves at all times, right?" Kimberly asked sternly, looking at all three boys. For whatever reason, they were the anger of the group, primarily directed at Roland, but Tommy got some of the spillover. Zack had spent a year helping his best friend recover from what was done to him, only to find another close friend had fallen prey to the same danger. Adam rarely spoke of his feelings, eschewing the arguments and discussions for the most point. He only talked to Tanya about how he felt, how he felt oddly betrayed because Tommy had failed to protect Billy from danger in this instance, even though he understood intellectually that there was no way Tommy could have known.

Trini and Tanya were the logical, sensible, stable rocks for the others to lean on. Trini because, like Zack, she'd traveled this road longer and farther than the others. She understood what Jason and Billy were going through, and had the advantage of a longer-based friendship with both boys. Tanya, conversely, because she didn't know any of them that well, was less judgmental; she saw everyone's side of the story with the close to impartial eyes of a new acquaintance. She could listen to everyone's opinion with an open mind while not being swayed herself, providing a much-needed sounding board.

By strengthening their bonds to each other, and uniting despite divergent opinions on some aspects of the case, they were able to provide staunch support for those of their friends who needed it most. Friends who still had a rough road to travel before they could put the situation behind them. Which was why the seven teenagers had made a pact to attend the trial, no matter how much they'd rather not have to face the ugliness they knew would be revealed in that cold, almost antiseptic room during the stiflingly warm days of early summer. They would be there to offer their support, because they believed that no one should have to travel such a journey alone.

Barbara Harrison was not a conventionally attractive woman, but her warmth, her caring personality, and her open, giving nature made her beautiful in the eyes of more than one person who had spent time behind closed doors with her. She could have undoubtedly had a lucrative private practice, but instead concentrated on cases sent to her by the District Attorney's office, having found a greater sense of achievement from helping crime victims through a crisis.

One of the few complaints she had about her work was when she got what she called a 'rush job', a case that was going to trial too soon to allow the victims sufficient time to recover. Such was the case of the patients she was discussing now, Jason Scott and Billy Cranston.

"Bottom line, Barbara, is: are they ready?" Richard Perkins asked tersely.

"Yes. As ready as anyone can be under the circumstances. As ready as I'd like them to be? No," she replied steadily.

"How do you think they will do? Off the record, if need be," Richard pushed.

"I think Jason will do very well. I read the report Janette, his therapist in Geneva, submitted. I talked to her several times on the phone. She did a wonderful job getting him through that, especially considering the boy was far from home and surrounded primarily by strangers. It definitely helps that Jason is a strong young man, with a particular internal strength, the kind of strength natural leaders have. In some ways it made what happened to him harder on him, yet it helped him recover more quickly."

"I'm not sure I understand," Don Bradford asked from where he was sitting near the door. He was waiting to give his report, such as it was, when the clients arrived. This meeting with Barbara would be over by then.

"Jason was not used to being victimized, it was a completely foreign experience for him, and it threw him badly off balance for a time. But, once Janette helped him past that part of it, that strength made his recovery quicker, if not easier. Billy doesn't have that advantage. Unfortunately, he's a young man who knows far too much about being victimized, having spent much of his youth being picked on by bullies, after being abandoned at an extremely young age by his mother," she explained.

"Will he be able to testify?" Richard asked.

"Yes. It will be harder for him, of course, but he does have courage, and a lot of it. Just different than Jason's. Billy's is more an ... enduring ... sort of strength. He doesn't exactly fight back, he simply endures, keeps going despite what happens. Very valiant in his own way. Plus, and here you got very lucky, there is a strong bond between the two of them. More than friendship, almost more than brotherhood. And it extends to include their group of friends. I don't know what it is about them, but each of them is somehow special, and together they are more than the sum of their parts. They are going to be in that courtroom, and that will help your clients more than you can imagine."

"Barbara, you sound almost ... mystical about it," Don teased gently.

"Don, in all my years of working with victims, I haven't encountered anything quite like this group of kids," she admitted. "They fascinate me, I have to admit. After that fiasco at the mall, I would have sworn Billy would never recover in time to stand up to the trial, but darned if he didn't, if just barely. And I know it had at least partially to do with his friends. I try to stay impartial, you know that, but I really hope you win this one. These two deserve to be vindicated, even if that isn't what they seem to want. I plan to continue working with Billy at least until he leaves for college, and it would help a lot if he has a guilty verdict against his attacker."

"Well, Barbara, we want the same thing. That's the whole game plan. Thanks for meeting with us, and I guess we'll see you in court."

Joe Scott was a man who liked to get directly to the heart of the matter, which was one reason he rarely got along with lawyers. However, he was impressed with Richard Perkins as he sat in the corner of the office, next to Don Bradford, and listened to the attorney explain the exact witness lineup for the prosecution, and what they hoped to achieve with each one.

During the last three days, Jason and Billy had spent a couple of hours getting used to the idea of being on the witness stand, and experiencing cross-examination. Richard had enlisted a fellow attorney to 'play' Victor Manning, and try to trip up one of the boys' testimony. Jason had done well, keeping cool, seemingly unconcerned with the public nature of what was going to happen. Billy tried hard, but was pretty obviously having more problems than Jason. Still, the young man stuck to his story, even when the cross-examination got more intense and he got more upset. It was a good sign.

"Boys, Tuesday we are scheduled to present the physical evidence, and the expert witnesses regarding rape. Neither of you will be in court when this is being presented. Partially, well mostly, to spare you additional stress and distress, and partially to prevent the defense from saying you were coached in your testimony. It just looks better if you two aren't there listening to experts say how you should have reacted, okay?" At the boys' nods he continued. "Billy, I don't want you there when Jason testifies. Same reason. I know that if we wanted to coach you two, we could have long ago, but this is for the sake of appearance, okay? Jason, if you want to be present for Billy's testimony, it will be okay, since you'll be done. Now for the bad news."

Both tensed, as did their parents.

"I'm sorry, but it will be open court. I wasn't able to get a closed court ruling. No pictures, no live media coverage, but reporters can be in the courtroom. So can the public, up to the capacity of the room."

He had expected the flinches he saw, he'd hoped to at least spare them some of the public scrutiny, but it was unavoidable. "Perhaps you can take heart in this: by this time next week you should be done. Do you have any questions?" he asked at last.

They all shook their heads in the negative, except Billy, who looked up at Richard bleakly. "Did you ever figure out why?" he asked quietly.

"Why?" Richard repeated, not having expected the question at all.

"Why Mr. Oliver did this. Did you guys ever figure that out?" Billy asked in his soft voice. "It seems it would help, at least a little, to know there was some reason for this, no matter how odd. Why he thought we'd hurt Tommy, or how what he did would ... protect ... him."

Richard's eyes met Don Bradford's with a mute look of dismay. They'd been so busy preparing for the trial, figuring strategy; they'd forgotten this simple, basic point. Why, indeed?

"I think the answer may be in Oliver's past," Don suggested, grasping for straws, wanting to offer the teens something where he really had nothing.

"You didn't check it out?" Jason asked, his tone neutral.

Joe Scott bit back a harsh comment by force of will. He'd had enough dealings with the DA's office to understand how understaffed and overworked they were, but trying to establish a motive in this case should have been a priority.

"No, I didn't." Don was frankly ashamed. He was a detective, he should have investigated this more. "But I will this weekend. Oliver grew up in the Glendale area, so I'll check around there," he promised.

"I could go with you," Joe suggested quietly. "It's my line of work, too. And I'm on a leave of absence until this is settled. Between the two of us we could cover more ground."

Don nodded in agreement. He'd had dealings with Joe in the past, and had found the detective to be an honest sort; thorough and professional. It might be a little late, but they could poke around Roland's past a bit, just to see what they could shake loose.

"All rise, court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Clark Addison presiding," the court clerk announced at nine sharp on Monday morning.

Jason and Billy, dressed in suits, sat next to Richard Perkins, while to their left across the aisle sat Victor Manning and Roland Oliver. Behind them sat Virginia Oliver with Tommy, and some close friends of Virginia's who were offering their support to the distraught woman. Behind Jason and Billy sat their parents, and the seven former Rangers. Beyond them were assorted reporters and interested citizens. The room was filled to capacity, as it would continue to be for the entire trial. Once the details had been made public, after the request for a closed trial had been denied, the press latched onto the story like a pitbull with a meaty bone. There was something about the case that intrigued people, and coverage was complete and intensive.

Jason looked around curiously, giving a faint smile at their friends sitting behind him, surprisingly buoyed by their presence. He touched Billy's arm, indicating he should look, and the slight relaxing of his expression showed it had helped him as well. Their attention was again directed to the floor as the lawyers were starting to make their opening statements.

It was a good thing the two teens had gotten some encouragement from the presence of their friends, because Victor Manning's opening statement threw them both for a loop. Hearing the attorney claim that they were conspiring to destroy Roland Oliver in revenge for a teenage love triangle was shocking, to put it mildly. Jason's jaw muscles twitched violently, in mute testimony to his mounting outrage, while Billy clasped his hands to hide their trembling. Richard Perkins kept a close eye on his two clients, dismayed he hadn't prepared them for this possibility, but he'd thought it was extremely unlikely their opposition would try to come up with such an outrageous scenario.

Once the opening statements were finished, Richard jumped right into the fray, gratified that his first witnesses were exactly the kind needed to refute Manning's claim that the whole situation was the twisted plot of an unstable genius. Miss Appleby, at first looking nervous and a trifle uncertain at being the center of attention, however gave a glowing portrait of the two young men, painting them as intelligent, caring, industrious, and nothing less than future pillars of the community. Following were Mr. Williams, the head of the Science Club, Jason's first sensei, the chief of police, the director of HeadStart-HeadSmart, a tutoring service Billy did volunteer work with, the chairwoman from the Peace Conference Selection Committee, and Principal Caplan.

For most of the witnesses, Victor Manning declined to cross-examine, his attitude that of disdain regarding the witnesses' testimony. There were two exceptions, however. Ms. Ferguson, the head of the Peace Conference Selection Committee, and Principal Victor Caplan.

When Ms. Ferguson had finished answering Richard's questions about how the Selection Committee made their choices, what their background checks had determined, and what duties the selected teens were expected to carry out, Victor took his turn.

"Ms. Ferguson, we appreciate your thoroughness in checking the background of the applicants. I'm sure you all put in tremendous effort. My only question, at this time, is: Why wasn't William Cranston chosen? He did apply, didn't he?" he asked smoothly.

"Well, yes. Yes he did," she stammered a little. "We declined to include William for two reasons, actually. One was his shyness and unease at public speaking. Though it seemed he was making significant progress with that, and even hosted the events when the first group of teen ambassadors visited here, there were applicants with superior skills in that area. The other was the fact William comes from a single-parent home. The students are expected to be gone from one to three years, and it was our feeling that is more difficult in single-parent situations. He had numerous points in his favor, but so did all the other applicants. It was a close call, but ultimately we felt the others would do a bit better," she concluded, obviously uncomfortable having to disclose that information.

"I see. So, it may be safe to say William Cranston lacked the stability and maturity to serve as an ambassador?"

"Objection!" Richard called out. "Mr. Manning is putting words in the witness's mouth!"

"Sustained. Strike that last comment from the record," Judge Addison agreed.

"No further questions," Victor smirked, talking his seat again.

After Victor Caplan had presented his opinion and summation of the boys' years at Angel Grove High, including the various academic and citizenship awards they'd received, Victor Manning once more took his turn with the witness.

"You said the boys were never any problem, is that correct?" he asked the principal.

"Yes, that is correct."

"Yet, William Cranston did in fact serve at least one period of detention, did he not?" Manning queried.

Mr. Caplan gave the attorney a puzzled look. "I don't recall any such episode," he replied at length.

"I'll refresh your memory. William Cranston and Zachary Taylor once created a disturbance in the hallway, culminating with their tackling you in front of dozens of students, all of whom heard your declaration of detention for both boys. Was this not in their school records?"

"It is policy to remove the record of detention if the student does not get into any more trouble in the next semester, and if the student petitions for the removal. Billy, and Zack as well, did so. I had forgotten the incident," the principal admitted.

"You forgot two of your best students tackling you in front of witnesses? Interesting. Seems you also forgot an incident where not only Mr. Cranston and Mr.Taylor, but Mr. Scott and Misses Kwan and Hart were assigned detention after exhibiting what one student called 'weird behavior'? Also conveniently removed?" he purred.

"Well ... well ... it was so unlike them!" Mr. Caplan sputtered.

"Can we assume there are other instances also 'forgotten'?" Victor sneered.

"Objection! Speculation on the part of the defense," Richard interrupted.

"Sustained. Strike the last comment from the record."

"No further questions."

"Oh, God, what a day," Joe Scott moaned, collapsing on the couch. "I cannot believe what an asshole Victor Manning is!"

"Joseph," Claire said warningly. She understood her husband's frequent frustration with law and lawyers, but she insisted he keep his language under control.

"Sorry, Honey, but he IS being an asshole. Accusing the boys of making this all up to get back at Tommy! I cannot believe the Judge didn't burst into laughter at that, it's so absurd."

"Joe, you know as well as I do that in this day and age it is not absurd. With Jason and Billy, it is, but that's beside the point. Still, I wanted to slap him myself," she sighed.

"You and me, both," Lawrence Cranston muttered from his seat on the easy chair. They'd decided to travel to and from the courthouse together with the boys, who were now in the Scotts' garage gym working out, trying to settle themselves after the upsetting day.

"Well, tomorrow at least we don't have to go," Claire pointed out. The respite was welcome, they had all been very keyed up about the trial starting, and now that the first day was over, they needed to regroup a little, knowing more about how the defense was going to work.

"Yes, and at least it's started, you know? I'm glad to know that, one way or another, it should all be done in a week or so. Which is what I want, more than anything. To just be done," Lawrence said quietly. "I want to not have this hanging over us anymore."

"I couldn't agree more," Claire sighed.

"The prosecution calls Trini Kwan to the stand."

The pretty Asian teen gave her friends a faint smile, then rose to approach the witness stand. She moved with her customary calm grace, belying the fact she was more than a little nervous.

The day had already been upsetting in the extreme. Though they had not actually seen the pictures taken at the hospital until now, they hardly needed to. The descriptions and explanations by Dr. Stanley and the two paramedics had been sufficient as far as the teens were concerned. It was the first time they'd heard that Billy had been beaten as well as raped, and that he'd almost required surgery to repair the damage done. The therapist the court had assigned, Ms. Harrison, discussed at length the psychological effects, and what symptoms both teens had exhibited. She also read and discussed the report from Janette, the therapist in Geneva.

The acts being described were ugly, brutal, and violent, and the teens would have found them upsetting if the victims had been strangers. More than one of them had a hard time reconciling the thought that those things had been perpetrated against friends of theirs. It was a concept that was hard ... almost impossible ... to accept.

Now Trini and Zack had to sit in front of this crowded room and describe how their friend nearly had a breakdown in the wake of what Roland had done to him, knowing the other attorney would be looking for ways to paint them as liars.

Zack had been called up first, and under Richard's guidance had recounted the events in Geneva, from having noticed Jason's mildly unusual behavior, through the night he had his first flashback, through long sleepless nights where he talked incessantly to Zack about everything ... anything ... except the attack, until Jason made the decision to come home to Angel Grove. Zack's customary humor was missing as he told of his best friend's trip through an emotional hell he should never have had to experience. Victor's attempts to sway Zack from his story, to find holes or inconsistencies, failed as Zack stuck to the story as told. But he hadn't really expected to get much from the young man; it was the Kwan girl he was expecting to rattle into revealing information to help his case.

As he had with Zack, Richard Perkins carefully and kindly led Trini through the events of the last year, from her and Zack's first suspicion that something was wrong with Jason, through their becoming lovers. She maintained an air of calmness - serenity even - as she recounted the painful memories of watching a friend struggle through an emotional ordeal. She spoke without embarrassment of their first lovemaking, what had led to it and what came of it. At last the prosecutor seemed satisfied, and turned the witness over to Victor Manning.

Trini watched Manning's approach with some trepidation. She knew he was only doing his job, trying to assure Roland would not go to prison, but his methods, and the almost predatory look he gave her, were disconcerting.

"Miss Kwan, you stated that you and Mr. Scott became intimate five months ago, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry?" Trini gave him a puzzled look.

"Why did you two become lovers? Are you in love with Jason Scott?" he clarified.

"I am not sure. Jason is one of my oldest and dearest friends. I do love him in that regard," she replied.

"I see. But do you love him as, say, the man you want to spend the rest of your life with?" Manning countered.

"I don't know for certain yet."

"Yet? Interesting. But you love him as a friend, right?" he persisted.

"Yes." No uncertainty in that answer.

"Are you in the habit of having sex with your friends? Have you had sex with Mr. Taylor, perhaps? Or Mr. Cranston? Aren't they old, dear friends as well?"

Trini stared at the attorney, her face flushed with embarrassment and outrage at his callous comments. She gave herself a moment to get her emotions back under control before responding.

"Yes, Zack and Billy are also old, and very dear friends, whom I love. But isn't each relationship we develop in our lives special and unique? Do you love your sister? And your wife? Do you love them the same way? Jason and I came together under unique circumstances, and our act of love was a special, wonderful event between us. Not counting his assault, it was the first time for both of us, and I'm glad ... grateful ... that I could share it with someone who means so much to me. Nothing you can say or imply will make me ashamed of what we did." She met his gaze boldly, and this time the man flushed.

"Very eloquent, young lady. But the fact remains that you had sex with a young man you were not romantically involved with. There is a term for such behavior ..."

"Objection! This line of questioning is irrelevant!" Richard was furious.

"I am attempting to establish the witness's objectivity in this situation," Victor countered.

"Objection sustained. Strike the last comment from the record. Counsel is advised to stick to the issues relevant to this case."

"The fact the witness had sexual relations with at least one of the plaintiffs is," he argued.

"The objection is sustained," Judge Addison reiterated in a no-nonsense tone.

"I have no further questions," Manning concluded, walking away from a steaming Trini, ignoring the furious looks from her parents and friends.

Kim in particular was fighting the urge to run up to the smug lawyer and claw his eyes out. She and Trini had talked candidly about what had happened, and Kimberly knew how much their lovemaking had meant to the sensitive young woman. To have that man cheapen it, drag it out in public and ridicule it, was almost too much to bear. A look at the other teens confirmed that they were all feeling the same way. She could only thank God Jason wasn't there to hear it.

Richard strode up to the witness stand, knowing he needed to redirect the atmosphere to a more congenial mood. Trini was the last witness for the day, and tomorrow Jason would be on the stand; he needed to be sure there would be a sympathetic atmosphere for the young man.

"Trini," he said gently. "You were very hurt by the letter your boyfriend sent, weren't you?"

"Yes, I had thought things were okay between us."

"Jason invited you out to cheer you up, right?" At her nod he continued. "You had some innocent fun, and somehow it became more than just two friends spending time together, didn't it?"

"Yes. It seemed right, somehow. I didn't regret it then, and I don't regret it now. I don't know if I love Jason in quite that way, but I do know he is someone special to me. He always has been, always will be," she smiled a little, her expression a bit nostalgic.

"Thank you, Trini. No further questions."

Kimberly was pacing the narrow width of her friend's bedroom in short, furious steps, her every movement expressing her outrage.

"I cannot believe what that man implied!" she all but shouted, startling the other three girls.

"Kimberly, please, it's okay. It's over at least," Trini said softly, her eyes still glistening from fresh tears.

"It is NOT okay! He shouldn't be able to make those sorts of accusations!"

"It's not like it isn't technically true," Trini replied, her eyes downcast. "I did have sexual relations with a man I'm not in love with."

"Trini," Kim said, sitting down and taking her friend's hands in hers. "You made love with someone you care deeply for, someone who means a lot to you. It was a physical expression of your love and caring, something beautiful and meaningful. Not what that ... that ... lawyer tried to make it sound like."

Trini had to smile at the smaller girl's emphatic words. "I know. But, still ..."

"He was wrong, Trini. I can see what he was trying to do, I think, but I don't think it worked as well as he expected it to," Tanya cut in from her seat near the bedroom window. "I read an article once about court strategies, and I think what he's trying to do is make all of us look like ... well ...bad people. He only has to prove reasonable doubt, you know, not that Mr. Oliver is totally innocent. If that article was right, he's got a lot easier job than Mr. Perkins has."

"I guess that makes sense," Trini agreed, her face thoughtful.

"I don't even want to think about what he'll do to Jason and Billy when they are on the stand," Kat murmured softly.

"That's why we are there, to support them when he's being a jerk," Kim pointed out, still sitting at Trini's side. "After hearing what we heard today, how much worse can it be?" she wondered innocently.

Within a few days she would remember that comment with wry amusement.

"The prosecution calls Jason Scott to the stand."

The dark-haired teen looked at the empty seat beside him, glad his friend wasn't going to be here for this. Though he knew what Richard was going to ask, and what he was looking for, he was very worried about the cross-examination, after what he'd heard about Trini's experience from Zack. Billy was already stressed and worried enough, without having to watch his friends get grilled. But that relief didn't mean testifying was something he was looking forward to. He tried to hide his apprehension as he approached the bailiff to be sworn in.

Knowing the teen was nervous, Richard started with some background information, nothing very difficult. He asked Jason how he'd met Tommy, how their friendship had developed, how often he'd been to Tommy's home, his early impressions of Roland. Jason began to relax a little, and his natural charm was becoming evident, which was just what Richard had hoped for. However, they could not avoid the hard part forever.

"Jason, do you understand the oath you took before you sat down?"

"Yes, sir."

"So you understand you are required to tell the truth?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want you to tell the court, in your own words, what happened to you on the day in question."

Jason looked down at his clasped hands and tried to gather his thoughts. They'd rehearsed this a few times, never writing anything down, just practicing speaking to a courtroom. He realized now that nothing could have possibly prepared him for the actual experience of being on the witness stand, facing the judge and jury. His throat was dry, his mind gibbering.

Perkins realized what was happening and stepped to the side where a small table was set up with a pitcher of water and some cups. Getting a drink for Jason, he handed it to the teen, who accepted it gratefully.

"Take your time, Jason," he said gently.

"Mr. Oliver called me that afternoon, about one I think," Jason began, relieved to find once he started talking it got easier. "He said he'd bought a weights machine for Tommy, and needed help setting it up. He said he wanted to surprise Tommy with them, so if I could come over that afternoon, while Tommy was in Stone Canyon with his mom, that would be better. I thought it sounded like a cool idea, so I agreed to help him. When I got there he let me in the house, chatting about how excited Tommy was going to be. He seemed very ... normal. Nothing was out of the ordinary, it was like all the other times I'd visited Tommy's house. Mr: Oliver told me he was going to set things up in the basement, and indicated toward the door. I figured he was excited to get started, so I went ahead of him through the door and down the stairs."

Here he paused again, considering his next words. "It smelled bad. Kind of like the science lab at the high school, you know. A chemical kind of smell. I wondered about that, since their basement is set up as a rec room, it's not like they did repair work down there. Before I could even ask what the smell was, Mr. Oliver grabbed me and pressed a wet rag to my face. The chemical smell was coming from that rag. I thought I was going to throw up from the stench, but I lost consciousness almost immediately." The teen stared down at his hands, remembering.

"Where were you when you woke up?" Richard gently prompted him.

"Tied to the table. I was face down, my clothes were gone. My hands were tied to the sides of the table, my ankles to the legs, so I was kind of spread-eagle, but bent over the table at the same time. I ... I tried to get loose, but I couldn't. I couldn't. I looked around, and I caught a glimpse of Mr. Oliver behind me, by the couch, and I could see he wasn't wearing any clothes either. I asked him why he was doing this," Jason's voice had grown softer than ever, but he didn't back away from the microphone. He'd been warned to be sure he stayed within its range.

"Did he speak to you?" the attorney asked after Jason's pause had grown too long.

"Yes. He said I couldn't hurt Tommy. He wouldn't let me. He'd make sure I never laid my hands on him. I remember that especially because I associated it with Tommy and me sparring for some reason. He sounded ... weird. Not like himself anymore. Distant, I guess. I told him I wasn't going to hurt Tommy, that we were always careful when we sparred, but that seemed to make him even madder. He said 'I'm not talking about sparring, you idiot. I'm talking about what you're thinking of doing to my son'. I didn't know what he meant, I asked him but he just told me to shut up and take my medicine. He had walked up by the table by then, where I could see him," Jason's voice faltered again.

"Take your time, Son, and tell us what happened then."

"He ... he was aroused, and he was wearing a rubber, and I ... I knew what he was going to do then. I tried again to get free, but the ropes were way too strong. So ... so ... I relaxed. That's what I've heard my mom say, that a lot of people get hurt worse because they don't relax. I couldn't get free, I was tied down, so I tried to be ready. But it hurt. Oh, God, it hurt so much. I tried to think of something else, but I couldn't. He just kept pounding and pounding and it kept hurting and hurting and I was screaming for him to stop, but he kept on going," the teen choked out, tears running down his face, his expression one of haunted pain. As soon as he has started to recount the events of that day, it was as if it was happening all over again.

The former Power Ranger took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "He finally stopped, and just lay on top of me. I thought it was over, then ..." once more Jason's composure slipped, and he tried to calm down enough to speak.

"It's okay, Jason. Take your time," Richard tried to soothe him a little, bringing him more water. He knew what was next and hoped the boy could get the words out. "What happened next?"

"I ... I ... I was ... hard. I ... I don't un ... understand why. But I was. And he ... he touched m-me, stroked, until ... until I came." Jason slumped in his seat, shoulders hunched, head down, trying desperately to get control.

In the audience, Claire Scott was biting anxiously on her knuckles to keep from sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks, her other hand clenching her husband's hand in a grip of iron. Joe was also in tears, but he held his head high and watched his son intently, proud of the courage the teen was exhibiting. Behind him he could hear the sniffles from Jason's friends as they reacted to his testimony.

Across the narrow isle, Tommy was fighting a losing battle with his own emotions. He knew Jason perhaps better than anyone, knew the inner strength the former Ranger leader had. That the events of a year ago could reduce him to public tears told Tommy a lot about just how serious it was. His world tilted badly that afternoon, and it was perhaps an instinctual move on his part to tighten his emotional hold on his faith in his father. His expression, one moment showing tormented sympathy, hardened to bitter resolve. There was no way his father could have done that to anyone, let alone someone like Jason. He could not allow himself to believe it.

Jason had finally calmed enough to try to speak again, and Richard laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Can you continue?" he queried quietly.

"Yeah. A-after that, he released me. All I wanted was to get out, get away from him. He'd left my clothes on the couch, so I started toward it, and Mr. Oliver grabbed me. He shoved me against the wall, and pushed his body up against me. He told me to get out and never come back. He said that if I told anyone he'd ... he'd hurt my parents. That he ... he'd k-kill them. And me."

"Did you believe him?"

"Yes, sir. I did."

"What did you do then?"

"I got dressed, and I left. I got home and took a shower, but I couldn't get the feel of him off of me. I kept taking showers, usually two to four a day. And I never went back to Tommy's house."

"You didn't tell anyone?"

"No. I was too ashamed." That admission was barely audible.

"Did you and Tommy stop being friends?"

"Not exactly. But I decided to apply to be a teen ambassador, and lobbied pretty hard to get chosen. That started just a few days after my encounter with Mr. Oliver; that way I managed to keep really busy so he wouldn't think anything was wrong."

"Do you think Tommy knew what his father did?"

"No. I can't believe he did."

Sitting there behind his father, Tommy was struggling with mixed feelings. He was furious at what Jason was claiming his father had done, but there was a slight twinge of satisfaction that Jason had expressed faith in his own innocence.

Perkins shifted the questions to events in Geneva, and his work with Janette to deal with what had happened. Jason was able to maintain his composure throughout that part of the testimony, though he was still obviously upset.

"Jason, why did you decide to return to Angel Grove?" Richard asked at last.

"I needed to talk to my parents. And to the police. Janette had said that I'd never be really healed until I'd done that. And I wanted to be sure Mr. Oliver didn't have a chance to harm anyone else, like he had me. But ... but I was too late for that," Jason concluded sadly.

"Jason, how old were you when this happened?"

"Seventeen."

"Jason, is what you've told us here today the truth?"

"Yes, sir."

"No further questions at this time."

After the break for a late lunch, Victor Manning began his cross-examination. Using a method that had served him well over the years, he questioned every detail of Jason's story, repeating it back, using different phrasing, sometimes abandoning a question halfway through. It was confusing for the jury, confusing for the witness, and usually very effective in exposing inconsistencies in a testimony.

It didn't work on Jason. Though Victor's methods and questions drove him to tears several times, he steadfastly stuck by his story. By the time Manning gave up, it was time to call it a night. Smiling wearily at Richard, Jason stepped down from the witness stand.

The attorney watched his client walk back to his seat and nearly collapse into it. One down and one to go he thought with mild satisfaction. But he knew tomorrow's ordeal was likely to be even harder.

"The prosecution calls William Cranston to the stand."

The atmosphere in the courtroom was especially tense. Jason's testimony the previous day had been harrowing in a lot of ways, and most of those who'd been in the courtroom the whole week knew full well that Billy was far more emotionally fragile than Jason had been. Just looking at the two teens, an observant person could see Billy was more tense, more stressed, closer to some emotional precipice than his dark-haired friend.

After being sworn in and taking his seat, Richard began questioning Billy, much as he'd done with Jason the day before. General questions, gradually leading in to a recounting of the events at the Oliver house. It was a traumatic process, but Richard was patient, and Billy fought valiantly to contain his emotions, stopping often to wrestle down tears. By noon there was scarcely a dry eye in the place, and when the lunch break was finally called an hour late, after Billy finished his telling of what happened to him, everyone was more than ready for a respite.

The seven teens walked slowly to a small nearby café, then sat around a table picking at their lunches and quietly contemplating the morning's testimony.

"Well, I can honestly say I'm glad that's over," Kim said at last, pushing lettuce around on her plate.

"We still have the cross-examination," Trini noted, with a look of intense distaste. She was far from forgiving Victor Manning for what he'd put her through, what he'd put Jason through. She was very worried about how Billy would be able to handle his heavy-handed questioning.

"I suspect he will take it easy on Billy," Tanya noted drily.

"What makes you say that?" Adam wondered.

"Couldn't you guys feel it? Geez, I think if Mr. Manning goes after Billy with the same sort of intensity he went after Jason, or you, Trini, the people in there will lynch him," Tanya explained.

"Yeah, I felt it. And I agree. They aren't going to let Manning get away with being a butthead and haranguing him," Rocky concurred.

"Right. Billy came across as so vulnerable, it brings out the protective tendency in people. Probably not real great for his self-esteem, but for the case? It works well," Tanya observed.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But I still can't help but think he has something unpleasant up his sleeve," Trini said as they rose to return to the courtroom. The waitress looked after them with ill-disguised disdain for what she figured must be the wasteful habits of privileged youth. They'd ordered nice lunches, and between them had eaten hardly anything.

"Mr. Cranston, do you like Tommy Oliver?" Victor Manning asked as court resumed that afternoon.

"He's been a friend of mine for two years now," Billy replied.

"That wasn't my question. Do you like Tommy Oliver?" Victor insisted.

"Yes." A simple statement of fact.

"Why? You don't share any common interests. As near as I've been able to tell, you two don't have anything in common except the same friends. So why are you friends?"

"I don't know that that is something I can explain," Billy started, surprised by the question.

"Please try," Manning insisted, his tone commanding but not particularly harsh.

"Tommy really seemed to hit it off with Jason, who does have a lot of the same interests. Since I've been friends with Jason since we were little kids, it just sort of happened that Tommy and I ended up spending time together. And out of that time together we became friends in our own rights."

"Was it just Jason Tommy 'hit it off with'?"

"No, he seemed to be ... smitten ... I guess, with Kimberly," Billy admitted uneasily.

"How about you? Were you 'smitten' with Kimberly Hart?" Victor asked.

"Me? No. Kim's a friend, a good friend, but that's all."

"A good friend, huh? You sure you don't want to ... uh ... reconsider what you just said?" Victor asked, giving the teen a hard look.

"We're friends, that's all," Billy reiterated firmly.

"Well, we found some evidence to the contrary," the attorney said, returning to his table and taking a piece of notebook paper out of his briefcase. He approached Billy and handed him the paper, watching as Billy alternately paled and blushed.

"Is that your writing, Mr. Cranston?" he asked coolly.

"Yes," the young man muttered reluctantly.

"Did you in fact write that?"

"Yes." Billy's voice had dropped to a whisper and tears again sparkled in his eyes as Victor reached over and removed the piece of paper from his nerveless fingers.

"Let this be entered into evidence as Exhibit 8," Victor requested, handing the paper to the judge, who scanned it quickly. "This is a letter written from Mr. Cranston to Kimberly Hart. I will read this letter, ostensibly from one friend to another...

My Dearest Kimberly,
I have recently developed a condition where whenever you are in my proximity I find myself experiencing physical symptoms including an unusual shortness of breath and increased blood flow to my epidermis. This has led to the conclusion that I am exhibiting all the symptoms of an increased affection for you, which I hope you reciprocate. I mean I'm in love with you, and I hope you feel the same way. But I saw you talking to Bobby Rogers yesterday in the hall, and I guess he likely asked you to the dance. I wish I could ask you, but you'd just laugh, probably. I wouldn't like it if you ridiculed me, like the other girls do. They think I don't hear them, but I do. Maybe Bobby will break his leg or something, then I could ask you out instead. But things like that don't happen for me. If I actually give you this letter, will you promise not to laugh at me, at least where I can hear? Love, Billy.

I'd say those were the words of a person who thinks of Miss Hart as more than a friend," Victor concluded with a barely hidden smirk.

Billy had placed his right hand over his face, his eyes closed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in a manner familiar to his friends from the days he'd still worn glasses. A single tear meandered down one thin cheek, glittering obscenely in the fluorescent lights.

"I was thirteen when I wrote that," his muffled voice said wearily.

"Seems you've carried quite a torch for the young lady. No further questions." Manning walked away, leaving Billy staring at his back in utter, amazed defeat.

Kimberly, sitting behind Lawrence Cranston, was struggling with sobs, trying to remain silent and not draw any additional attention to herself. She had known that Billy had once had a crush on her, and had been honestly relieved when it seemed to change into simple friendship over the last few years. Her feelings were an anything but easy mixture of embarrassment, sorrow, and pity for the friend she'd valued for so many years. That Victor Manning had read that letter out loud in court was a cruelty she could scarcely credit.

Richard was appalled at what had just transpired, and knew he'd have to do some major damage control, and fast. The five-year gap between the boy who'd written that love letter and the young man who was slumped on the witness stand notwithstanding, that letter was damaging and incriminating. But he was also dealing with a witness who was on the ragged edge of his emotional control.

"Billy, I know this has been hard, but I need to ask you a few more questions, okay?" he queried gently. His heart constricted painfully at the expression in those blue eyes that turned to him.

"Do you love Kim?"

"No. Yes. I mean, as a friend, yes. As a girlfriend? No," Billy replied softly.

"Were you jealous of her dating Tommy?"

"No. I guess I was a little envious of what they had together, I wanted something like that for myself, but I wasn't jealous that Tommy was dating Kimberly," he said after a moment's pause.

"Were you glad when they broke up?"

"No. Tommy was really hurt by that. I felt bad for him."

"Billy." The tone was a little stern, and the teen looked up at Richard, seeming to understand he was going to be asked something important.

"Billy, are you accusing Mr. Oliver of raping and beating you to get back at Tommy?"

"No." Just one word; calm, decisive, and sure.

"No further questions."

It was with a sense of relief that Judge Addison released the witness. He and most of the court felt like they'd been through an ordeal as they watched the frail-looking teenager walk slowly back to his seat by Jason. The former Ranger leader didn't care who or what was watching, he very gently laid his hand on Billy's trembling arm, offering discreet comfort to his upset friend.

Billy was the last of the prosecution's witnesses, and after some closing statements the prosecution rested their case. Court was adjourned for the day, and the defense would start their case in the morning, with it scheduled to run three to four days at most. Richard Perkins and Don Bradford exchanged a worried look as the room began to empty slowly. Manning had landed some significant blows to their case, and some doubt as to their ability to pull out a win was beginning to creep in.

There was a short, bench-like ledge outside Billy's second-floor bedroom window, just wide enough for two adults to sit comfortably. When they were kids, Billy, Jason and Zack often sat out there at night and discussed matters of supreme importance to growing boys. Subjects like Spiderman's powers, karate, the substitute teacher they had in History, music, karate, whom the cutest girl in school should be dating, the nutritional value of Twinkies, and karate. Somehow no problem seemed too difficult when the stars were shining brightly and your best friends were sitting at your side.

Jason was not surprised to find Billy sitting out there in the wake of events at court that day. Old habits die hard, and that quiet place was still Billy's favorite place to go to 'lick his wounds', as it were.

"Room enough for me?" the former Red Ranger asked, poking his head out the window. He'd had a hard time that day in court maintaining his own composure as he listened to Billy's recounting of his ordeal at Roland's hands. In addition to reminding him yet again of his own experience, it added a new dimension to the guilt he was nurturing about his friend's attack. Billy as yet had not said one word of blame to him regarding his year-long silence, nor had he said one word of forgiveness. Jason wasn't sure how Billy felt about that aspect of the ordeal, and couldn't quite bring himself to ask.

In response to the question Jason did ask, the light-haired teen shifted to the side without comment, leaving enough room for his burly friend. Jason carefully eased himself out and sat down, releasing a sigh of relief at the peace and quiet of the location. They sat in companionable silence for a time, contemplating the stars and blameless moon while the soft sounds of the evening drifted by.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked at last, unable to truly relax until he knew how Billy was feeling.

His companion sighed and spoke without turning. "I guess so. I suppose it could have been worse."

"I'm not really sure how," Jason commented drily.

"That's not very reassuring, Jase," Billy observed. "It's not like we weren't warned. Yesterday we woke up to find that decoration on the garage. Did you see it?"

"Yeah." Jason thought it was pretty hard to miss the term 'faggut family' written in red spray paint on the garage door.

"You know, this afternoon, after Mr. Manning was through questioning me, and he was walking away, I couldn't help but think 'I just had a letter I wrote five years ago in a fit of teenage hormones read to a court room full of people, which includes my family, my friends, and complete strangers, who had earlier heard me tell how Roland Oliver fucked me up the ass, and I'm being targeted for abuse by someone who can't even spell faggot correctly' and it hit me how absurd this whole situation is. I almost started laughing, Jase. Right there in court I almost started laughing hysterically. And I knew if I ever started, I'd never be able to stop. So, I have to figure I'm probably not doing that well at the moment. How're you?"

Jason looked at Billy with some concern. It was very unlike the former Blue Ranger to use such crude language, and it told him a lot about his friend's emotional state.

"Well, I haven't had a recent urge to laugh, so I suppose I'm doing okay. Ah, who am I kidding? I can't believe we are going through this, and that smug bastard sits across the aisle finding new and improved ways to humiliate us. How the hell did they find that letter anyway? I'm quite certain you never sent it to Kimberly," Jason wondered.

"It would have been better if I had, then I'd be sure only she'd seen it. I remember writing it, but no, I never sent it. Perhaps I lost it and someone found it, keeping it for a special occasion like this one? I guess it doesn't matter, and I'd prefer to not have it confirmed that my youthful enthusiasm for Kimberly was fodder for some cheerleader's amusement. But I suspect that's exactly what it was. I wouldn't be surprised to find out over half our class knew of it." His face looked oddly old and haggard in the imperfect moonlight. "I've got to be honest - I'm very relieved I graduated already. School would not be something I could face after this."

"Amen to that," Jason agreed fervently. He looked up at the stars again before speaking. "And here I wanted to be a cop here in Angel Grove. Guess if I want a law enforcement career I'm going to have to go somewhere else."

"Yeah, I think it's safe to say our local reputations are not very good these days."

"Room for me out there?" a soft feminine voice asked quietly from behind them just then.

Jason turned to look at Billy and saw the sudden wince of pain that voice caused, making him hurt yet again for all the things Roland's crime had cost them.

"Not really, Kimberly, but tell you what, I'll go on home before my folks call out the rescue squad to find me, okay? I'll see you tomorrow, Bro," he added as he maneuvered back inside through the window. He laid a comforting hand on Kimberly's shoulder for a moment, then strode toward the door without a word.

Kim poked her head out and looked over at Billy. "May I join you?"

He nodded wordlessly, unable to even look at her as she gracefully moved to the seat beside him. Once she was settled, and keeping his gaze averted, he started to speak.

"Kimberly, I'm sor ..." he stopped abruptly as she reached over, placing a hand over his mouth. He jerked back in instinctive fear and turned his hurt, questioning gaze on her.

"I'm sorry, Billy, I didn't mean to startle you, but don't you ever apologize for that!" she said forcefully. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Victor Manning does. Roland Oliver does, most definitely. Whoever it was who provided that letter to them does. But you do not. Do you understand me, William Cranston?"

His expression was so befuddled she had to smile. "Billy, what you said in that letter was sweet. Well, once I finished looking up the big words and translating it, it was sweet." That garnered an embarrassed chuckle from her companion. "I ... I thought you were maybe a little fond of me at one time, but I really never knew you felt so strongly. I wish you'd let me know, said something."

Billy contemplated his feet for a few moments then spoke softly. "You were always so nice to me. Didn't make fun of me, or treat me like I was the 'Geek of the Century', and I guess I was afraid that, if you knew, it would somehow change that. I couldn't help feeling that way, you were the first truly beautiful, kind girl I'd ever encountered, and I didn't want to blow it. Even then I knew life wasn't a happy, Disney movie that could be titled something like 'The Nerd and the Cheerleader'."

Kimberly considered her friend carefully. What he'd said bothered her more than she was willing to admit. That her kindness was something he'd been attracted to, and that the fear of losing that kindness had kept him silent, told her a lot about how bad his self-esteem had been. She had a sinking fear that Roland's attack had taken him back to that point, destroying all the progress he'd made in the intervening years.

"Billy," she said softly, laying her hand on his forearm. "I do love you, but, as I think you already know, not in the same manner I loved Tommy. Whatever it is that causes romantic love is missing between you and I. But we have a different kind of love, and nothing can change that. You can tell me anything, anything at all, and I will still love you just the same."

He looked down at her warm eyes, tears shining bright in his. "Thank you," he whispered, reaching across her small shoulders to pull her into a hug. He didn't realize it, but for the first time since his ordeal in Roland Oliver's basement, Billy initiated physical contact with someone. It was a small gesture, and a huge step.

She wrapped her arms around the young man and hugged him fiercely. "We'll all get through this somehow, Billy. As long as we all have each other, we will get through."

After four days of steadily building drama, Friday was anti-climatic to say the least. During a short day of testifying, twelve character witnesses took the stand on behalf of Roland Oliver. They included a retired judge, two professors from the law school he'd attended, and four directors of different child support services who spoke at length of Roland's involvement in their programs - both monetarily and donating his time and labor. They portrayed Roland Oliver as being just this side of sainthood, and waxed lyrical on the incredible positive influence he had on so many youths. More than one of these witnesses flashed Jason and Billy dirty looks, as if to say 'how can you possibly even think of accusing this fine man of such a thing?'. The two teens sat quietly, ignoring the looks and the whispers they fancied they could hear, and concentrated on what the parade of character witnesses had to say.

Claire Scott once more sat behind her son and his friend, only halfway listening to the litany of good deeds attributed to the man who had brutally raped the two teens. She contemplated the two heads in front of her ... one dark, one fair ... and remembered. She thought about when the two boys had first met, at Angel Grove Park. Sturdy, outgoing, friendly Jason had been running around, throwing, and then chasing, his ball. His dad had tried to entice the boy into a game of catch, but Jason, all of age four and thoroughly caught up in the I-can-do-it-myself stage, didn't want to. He could play catch all by himself, he insisted, so Joe and Claire had sat down in the shade of a nearby tree and watched their son amuse himself. One, well actually all, of his throws went off target, and it was simply a matter of time before he hit someone with the soft ball he was slinging around so joyously. The 'someone' turned out to be another four-year-old boy; smaller, more delicately built, with fair hair and light eyes. The smaller boy picked up the ball and regarded it with solemn curiosity as Jason hurried up. But instead of asking for the ball back, as was his usual reaction, the larger boy simply stood there, watching the newcomer until the blond boy handed back the ball with an oddly serious expression. Jason took it and started to turn away when his parents' training caught up with him.

"Thank you," he piped up.

"Welcome."

Jason threw his ball again, but before he went to retrieve it, he turned again to the other boy. "You like to play ball?" he asked.

"I don't know how."

"Come on, I show you," Jason invited, and soon both boys were throwing the ball all over the place. While the boys played, Claire and Joe introduced themselves to the boy's quiet father, who'd been standing alone watching the kids' interaction.

From that encounter had sprung a friendship that perhaps seemed to be a bit unusual on the surface; the muscular jock and the nerdy genius. But Jason was far more intelligent than most gave him credit for, and under the more concealing clothing he favored, Billy had developed a leanly muscular physique. And most important of all, they had very similar values and mores; they wanted many of the same things from their lives.

Thinking of Jason's childhood just stirred Claire's anger more. He'd been such a trusting child, who'd grown into a trusting young man. He knew, intellectually, that people could, and often would, do horrible things, but he'd never truly experienced it. At least not until Roland Oliver played him for a fool and hurt him in a way that the teen would never have expected. Claire had spent her life in a career dedicated to helping others, and hatred was something she'd had no real experience with before. But now she did hate Roland Oliver, not only for the physical and emotional damage the man did. No, to Claire the worst thing of all was that Roland had destroyed her son's trust and faith in people. Jason would recover in time, at least mostly. But forever more he'd know for a fact that even someone he knew and had trusted could turn on him and hurt him terribly. That was one lesson Claire had hoped her son would be spared.

She felt horribly betrayed by what Roland had done, herself. She'd known the man, for God's sake, had invited him into her home. And the thanks she got for extending friendship to him was to have him rape her son? Seemed like Jason wasn't the only one played for a fool by the attorney.

Claire's attention was again drawn to yet another witness, the last one of the day. The rotund director of "Angel Grove's Littlest Angels Home", was finished, wiping away a stray tear after she'd broken down when discussing the charges against Roland. After excusing the lady, the judge dismissed court until nine o'clock Monday morning.

"So, what's your feeling this far?" Don Bradford asked as he and Richard Perkins prepared to head for their homes on Friday.

"My feeling is that damnable letter was a surprise I could have done without." Richard sighed, still fuming over Thursday's bombshell.

"Come on, the jury is smart enough to realize it was something written by a love-struck thirteen-year-old," Don said in an attempt to encourage the attorney.

"I know that, Don, but it still portrayed Billy as the sort of boy who wishes revenge on romantic rivals. Which quite frankly is an idea I'd just as soon they never got. And you can't tell me you don't want to get even for that stunt. He pulled a fast one on us by claiming it had just been received that day, not allowing us a chance to prepare our witness or find refuting evidence," Richard groused. He noticed an unusual expression on Don's face. "What do you have up your sleeve?" he asked.

"Nothing, really, but I thought I'd take another trip to Glendale this weekend," the investigator confessed. Being unmarried, Don had the freedom to indulge his passion for his work. And he'd grown fond of Billy and Jason, he wanted to be sure he'd made every effort to ensure all potential information and evidence was obtained.

"Why? I thought you and Joe were totally stonewalled last weekend." After spending a day and a half seeking out former classmates of Roland's, hoping to be able to shed some light on why he had acted the way he had, they'd come away empty-handed and discouraged.

"Almost totally stonewalled. There was one guy, a priest who used to be a classmate of Oliver's, who I think knows more than he's telling. Just something about him tweaked my antenna, you know? I want to see if having a week to think about it has improved his memory. Maybe take along pictures of the boys to prompt him a little."

"Pull our own little eleventh-hour miracle, huh? I appreciate that you'd do that, Don. This case getting to you a little, perhaps?" Perkins teased gently.

"In a way, yes. I guess so. I like Joe Scott, he's a good man. The boys seem to be the kind of kids any parent would be proud of. And, I have to make a confession. I wrote a love letter when I was about thirteen, too. Cecelia Jorgenson was her name. She had the most amazing auburn hair, and freckles splashed across her upturned little nose, and I was in love in the worst way you ever saw. I poured my entire hormone-driven heart and soul into that letter, and if I recall, I would have committed murder and mayhem for her had she asked. And thirty years later I can tell you quite honestly I would want to curl up and die if someone found that letter and read it to a roomful of people. So I can understand how our client must be feeling. That was a pretty dirty trick, and I'm not so noble that the thought of revenge doesn't appeal to me. So I'm gonna mosey on down to visit a priest on Saturday, and see if his confession will be good for my soul."

Lawrence Cranston opened the envelope, knowing what it contained. He removed his paycheck, and the pink slip notifying him that returning to work after the trial was over was no longer an option. He wasn't surprised, at least. Two days before, the regional manager had called him to discuss what was going on, gently and regretfully informing Lawrence that he would be fired unless he returned to work on Monday. Lawrence told the man point blank he would not be able to come back while his son needed him, and that he understood the company had to do what it had to do. What was not mentioned was the fact there had been a couple of incidents of people complaining that the store was managed by a man whose son was involved in a 'sex crime'. Though the upper-level management knew what the case was about, they still were wary about having associations with such a sordid situation, and hence jumped on the chance to let Lawrence Cranston go for an unrelated, valid reason.

Looking at the check, Lawrence felt a slight stab of sorrow. He'd worked for that line of stores for nearly twenty years. When he first got married, he took a job there while his young wife finished her last two years of college, getting her degree in financial planning. The plan was for her to get a good job, and Lawrence could then quit and enroll back in school to finish out his last two years. But that plan was foiled when Charlene caught pregnant seven months before her graduation. Motherhood delayed her entry into the workforce, and Lawrence ended up being trained as an assistant manager. By the time Billy was two his father was offered the position of manager at the new Angel Grove store, which he gladly accepted. The young family moved to Angel Grove, but Charlene seemed to grow more discontent there. Their marriage began to falter, and when Billy was just past his third birthday, Charlene left them. Within a year the final divorce decree was signed, sole custody of Billy was granted to Lawrence, and neither father nor son had ever seen Charlene again.

Finding himself a single father with a young son, Lawrence had struggled to make ends meet. The only reason they had been able to afford the house was because Lawrence's widowed mother had died shortly before they moved to Angel Grove. Lawrence had taken his inheritance and put it all up as a down payment on the house, figuring it would be a good investment. But there were times, especially in the first few years, when things were very lean for them, and Lawrence had to work long hours to enable them to simply get by. Due to that, Billy had grown into an independent child, used to doing for himself when no one else was available. Lawrence often gave thanks that Billy was so healthy for all his small size, since taking time off to care for his child was usually frowned upon. And it helped that Claire Scott was often willing to fill in and help on those rare occasions Billy did need extra care and Lawrence couldn't do it himself.

Looking at the pink slip that signified the end of twenty years of unstinting service to the company, Lawrence couldn't help but be a little bitter about how things had worked out. He understood that the company had to do what was in its best interest, but there was still a part of him that was pathetically hurt by this action. Seemed loyalty was a one-sided street.

Folding the check and tucking it in his checkbook to be deposited next week, he tore up the pink slip, shoving it in the kitchen trash. He'd worry about his next source of employment after the conclusion of the trial, wanting more than ever to see justice brought to the man who'd ultimately caused so many problems.

His thoughts were interrupted by Billy's arrival in the kitchen in search of food. The teen opened the refrigerator, staring at the contents without interest before closing the door empty-handed.

"Billy, why don't you heat up some of the leftover casserole?" Lawrence suggested, sighing when Billy made an expression of distaste. "There's some roast in the cheese drawer in there, you could make a sandwich."

"No thanks," the teen replied, taking a bag of chips down from the cupboard and pouring some out on a paper towel. "This is fine, I'm not that hungry."

Lawrence came over beside his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Son, you need to eat more, and this isn't very healthy."

"I'm really not very hungry, Dad. And you know what happens if I force myself to eat."

The man sighed sadly. He did know, unfortunately well. He'd tried from time to time to insist Billy eat more, only to find every time the teen forced food down it came back up. Watching the slight youth wander back toward the stairs and his bedroom, Lawrence felt a stab of sorrow and despair. Billy was so thin now, and every night he heard his son wake up with a cry of fear and pain from dreams where Roland hurt him over and over again, and the father knew there were far too many nights when fear kept the boy from daring to sleep again. At first he'd gone in to comfort Billy, wanting to reassure him he was safe and loved. But there a came a point when it seemed the teen became more upset and embarrassed with his father's presence, so Lawrence backed off.

He supposed it was a fitting legacy for a childhood spent mostly fending for himself, while his father worked long hours to ensure financial security. When his son really needed him, he was not comfortable taking succor from his father. So now Lawrence felt the misery of no longer having his child's trust nor the job he sacrificed it for.

Father Mickey Turner was enjoying a quiet Saturday, relaxing in his backyard and putting the final touches on the service he had planned for the following day. However, there was one thing disturbing his usual serene Saturday mindset, and that was the visit he'd had the previous weekend from a couple of detectives from Angel Grove. They'd asked questions, reawakened memories he really didn't want to contemplate too closely. He'd almost successfully blocked the encounter from his mind when he heard his front doorbell chime. He nearly elected to ignore it, but as a priest it was his duty to be available to his flock if needed. The soul on the other side of the door might be a person in need of help from the Lord's humble servant.

It was, and it wasn't.

"Father? I was wondering if I could trouble you for just another couple of minutes?" Don Bradford asked.

"Detective. You know, I was almost expecting you. Come on in; let's talk in the backyard. It's far too lovely a day to be inside," Turner replied, leading the way through the modest home.

Sitting back down on his chair, he indicated a seat for the detective, then spoke calmly. "I don't know what you expect from this, detective. I told you and your friend everything I know, which is nothing, last week."

"I guess I was hoping a week of thinking about it might stir up some memories. You know, the man who was with me last weekend ... his son is one of the boys Roland Oliver attacked. I thought you might like to see the face of one of his victims," Don commented, handing Mickey Jason's high school photo.

"A good-looking young man, looks a lot like his father," Mickey said faintly.

"Here's the other one," Don continued, handing him Billy's last yearbook picture.

"So they are both good-looking boys," Mickey shrugged, trying to appear unaffected.

Don sensed the other man's unease, and decided to press his point, graphically. "And here are a couple of pictures of Billy, taken at the hospital after Roland finished with him. His father found the boy's bloodstained clothing and got him medical care. He might not have made it otherwise." He handed Mickey the pictures and watched the priest's face go pale. "These boys didn't do anything wrong, but still they got taken on a trip through hell. I want to make sure no others get treated the same way. As I told you last weekend, both Jason and Billy indicated Oliver said things along the line of 'I'm doing this to protect my son.' I'm wondering why Roland would think either of these boys, both of whom are, or at least were, friends of Tommy's, would do something to hurt their friend. I'm hoping you can provide me with that answer."

The priest couldn't drag his eyes away from the picture he still held in his now trembling hand. One of the photos showed Billy from the back, leaving no doubt at all as to what had happened to him. But it was the other one that held the man's attention. It was a headshot, showing the vivid bruising left after Roland had shoved the teen's head into a door. But the bruises were not what the priest saw most vividly, either. It was the expression in the light eyes that held him riveted. The look of blank despair; the shock, pain, and humiliation all visible in the dull gaze reflected in the photo.

He found himself in a bit of a quandary. As a priest he had a duty to maintain confidentiality, but what had happened with Roland Oliver had occurred long before he took his vows. Another look at the photo decided it for him. No one should ever look like that boy did, and if he had a chance to prevent it, he would do so.

Father Mickey Turner finally looked up into the intense face of the detective, and started to talk. He talked for nearly four hours while Don Bradford took page after page of notes. When he finally left the priest's home, he called Richard Perkins and told the attorney that he'd be staying in Glendale for another day or two. Things were finally coming together.

The teens sitting at the corner table of the Youth Center Juice Bar were uncharacteristically quiet and subdued. Ernie served them without comment, knowing what was going on, and lamenting the problems that had befallen his favorite group of teens. He was a bit surprised to look up and see Jason and Billy quietly heading toward the table, stoically ignoring the abnormal silence their presence seemed to cause. It was their first time in public since the case had gone to court. The other teens greeted them warmly, and soon the pair was safely absorbed into the group.

"How are you two doing?" Kimberly asked, giving them both intent looks.

"Okay," Jason mumbled in tandem with Billy's muttered 'fine'.

"Well, that was convincing. Not!" she sassed back at the boys, hoping to elicit at least a smile. The faint grins that greeted her bantering reply were better than nothing, she supposed, but not by much.

"We just wanted to see if we could come out in public without being harassed, I guess," Jason said quietly, the oddly defeated look in his eyes bothering them all. Though they wouldn't say so, that look from Billy was much easier to take than from self-confident, upbeat Jason.

"Well, so far so good," Zack declared, forcing a jovial tone.

"May have spoken too soon," Adam said softly as Bulk and Skull approached the table. The teens tensed, expecting unpleasantness.

"Jason, Billy, we just wanted to say ... that is ... we ... well, we did a little investigating on our own. You know we're detectives now, right? Well ... we investigated but couldn't find any other witnesses. You know, to back you guys up. But ... you know ... if you need any help or anything, we're around," Bulk said, looking a little uncomfortable while Skull nodded his agreement. "We think what happened, well, sucks. And if we can do anything to help you guys, we will. Right, Skull?"

"Right!"

"Thanks," Jason said in a surprised tone, oddly touched by the former bullies' show of support.

"Thank you," Billy added softly as the two looked around the table sincerely. Satisfied, they wandered off, leaving slightly shocked expressions behind them.

"That's not something you see every day," Rocky said at last. "Wonders never cease."

"A lot of things have changed since we've been gone, and that's one of the strangest," Trini agreed, looking pensively after the two.

A more comfortable silence fell over the teens after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

Trini was looking at Billy with a sense of sadness, seeing how the former Blue Ranger was suffering, and remembering Jason's struggles. The two were as different in their reactions to Roland's attack as they were in their innate personalities. Jason's reaction to the turmoil had been to throw himself into their duties, and when that wasn't feasible, to engage in more strenuous workouts than usual even for him. From what Trini could see, Billy was brooding, and definitely not eating. She knew that when Billy got extremely upset he couldn't eat, and given the fact the situation was more stressful than it had been for Jason, Billy's reaction was unavoidable. But none of that made it any easier to see her gentle friend looking like a concentration camp survivor as he toyed with his smoothie without actually drinking it.

Zack remembered all the fun the three of them had had growing up; the stronger Jason their unofficial leader, Billy their unassuming 'idea guy'. The three of them had spent years together; playing, planning, growing, learning. Whenever one had been hurt, the other two were there for him; they covered each other's tail ends as a matter of course. Now he felt as if his two closest friends were being taken away from him, that no matter how hard he tried, he'd never be on an even footing with them again. And that hurt, more than he thought possible.

Dreading the next day, Kimberly wished she could just go away somewhere and avoid the whole situation. Along with Adam and Rocky, she was expected to take the witness stand on Monday in defense of Roland Oliver. She realized, after the mess on Thursday regarding the letter Billy had written, that Victor Manning was going to go after her, wanting to know if there'd ever been anything between them. She hated this whole situation - the fact that her two friends had been hurt in any manner. But the sullying of Billy's crush on her bothered her even more in some ways. That something so innocent was being made into something to be used against the quiet teen was simply wrong, as far as Kim was concerned. And she was also worried about Tommy. She'd surreptitiously watched him the week before, and his look of dismayed anger had cut her to the quick. It was easy to overlook, but he was yet another victim of the situation.

If Kim dreaded testifying on behalf of Roland Oliver, Rocky and Adam were positively infuriated about having to do so. Adam, who'd forged a strong friendship with Billy right from the start, was consumed with an uncharacteristic rage every time he considered what Roland was accused of doing. And, Adam fully believed Billy and Jason's claims against the man, knowing they didn't lie. But, neither did he, so he was going to have to take the stand and recount how he'd spent time in the Oliver home, including one afternoon alone with Roland waiting for Tommy to arrive, and had never once seen anything out of the ordinary, nor been subjected to anything even resembling improper behavior from the attorney.

In some ways, Rocky was more torn than the others. He believed Jason and Billy, yes. But during the last few weeks he'd done an about-face concerning Tommy's role in the situation. He'd encountered Tommy alone one afternoon, at the local grocery store. Unnoticed by the former Ranger leader, Rocky had been free to observe Tommy closely, and what he saw spoke of the other teen's pain and anguish over what had happened. Finally, unable to watch the depressed teen slump around the market alone any longer, Rocky had approached his friend and struck up a conversation. Tommy had seemed almost pathetically glad to have someone to talk to, and Rocky found himself reevaluating his initial assessment of Tommy's guilt in the matter. All the former Ranger wanted now was a solution that would cause the least amount of pain to any of his friends; Tommy, Billy or Jason. He wasn't sure what that solution might be, but he wanted it with all his considerable heart.

Despite warnings that the testimony would likely be quite graphic, Katherine had managed to sit through both Jason and Billy's turns on the witness stand. She hated her instinctive reaction to what had been done to the two teens, but was unable to change it. The whole situation ... even the idea of the situation ... sickened her. She looked at the two teens sitting quietly at the table, and found her mind superimposing an image of them tied down, naked and vulnerable. The two images were too much at odds with each other, creating a strange sort of stress she couldn't explain and didn't like. She honestly wondered if she could ever look at the two young men again and not be reminded of what they had disclosed in court and the images her mind conjured from that testimony.

New to the team, new to the town, a young woman out of place in unfamiliar surroundings, Tanya had been basically thrust into the role of impartial observer, giving the more emotionally-involved teens someone to unload on when a release was needed. For her part, she believed Billy and Jason, if only because Victor Manning's scenario was unlikely in the extreme.

"I, for one, will be very grateful when tomorrow is finally over and done with," Rocky said at last, breaking the long silence.

"You and me both," Kim agreed emphatically.

"Yeah. I'll be glad when the whole thing is over and done with," Jason agreed with a sigh. "It's been a lot harder than I expected it to be."

"You know, right, that it wasn't our idea for us to testify?" Rocky asked abruptly.

"Yeah, man, we know. And it's cool, we understand, right Billy?" Jason replied easily.

"Yeah, you guys don't have any choice," Billy admitted, looking especially at Kimberly. He knew as well as she did what she was likely to be asked about, and despite her kindness on Thursday evening he still felt incredibly guilty.

"I suppose we should get some rest, so we're fresh and ready for the morning," Adam sighed, setting his empty glass aside and preparing to rise.

"I guess so," Rocky agreed in a subdued voice, getting up as well. That seemed to the be signal they were all waiting for, and they rose as a group and headed out the door, pointedly ignoring the whispered comments that followed them.

"To recap this, Mr. DeSantos; have you spent any time alone with Roland Oliver? At the Olivers' home?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did Mr. Oliver, at any time, act inappropriately? Attempt to harm you in any way?"

"No, sir."

"No further questions,"

"Does the prosecution wish to cross-examine this witness?"

"No, Your Honor."

"The witness is excused."

Rocky sighed and rejoined his friends. Adam and Kim had already finished their turns on the stand, and all three looked like they wanted to lash out in their frustration. The questioning had been done in such a way it made them sound like staunch supporters of Roland Oliver, which of course, had been Manning's plan.

Kim in particular had had a rough time with Victor Manning, who went after her with terrier-like tenacity. He seemed to be determined to make the former Pink Ranger appear to be a part of a romantic triangle created by an emotionally unstable genius. His questions were phrased in a manner that there was no way for her to answer that didn't make it seem incriminating somehow. By the time the defense attorney was finished with her, she was almost in tears from her frustration, and murmurs of displeasure could be heard throughout the audience.

After the lunch break, the defense called Megan Campbell to the stand. She was the current captain of the cheerleader squad, and a former friend of Kim's from when the one-time Ranger had been into cheerleading. She testified that Kimberly had indeed known about Billy's crush, and had admitted as much to the other cheerleaders. Megan indicated it had been quite the joke amongst the squad that the class geek had the hots for Kimberly. Billy kept his head down to partially hide his embarrassed blush as Kim entertained thoughts of revenge against her erstwhile friend.

Following Megan were three other former classmates, all of whom described incidents of odd behavior on the part of Billy Cranston, including a couple of things from when Kimberly occupied his body, when he and Zack were under the spell that made their teammates appear as putties, and a few other incidents - all of which could be traced back to Ranger-related events. As the embarrassing litany went on and on, Billy looked like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. A few of the recollections involved Jason as well, but for the most part they focused on Billy.

Sitting on the other side of the room, Tommy was experiencing mixed feelings. He had enjoyed the testimony on Friday - the parade of people who had spoken so adamantly and eloquently of his father's good works and contributions to the community. That had left him feeling so proud of his father, and shored up his flagging faith that he had chosen the right person to invest his faith in. But this day's witnesses were not nearly as uplifting an experience. Tommy did believe in his father's innocence, and he was angry that Jason and Billy were 'attacking' him as it were, but that didn't mean he wanted to see Billy publicly humiliated, and he knew full well the reasons behind Billy's behavior in the situations mentioned. Tommy had too deep a sense of honor and fairness to be comfortable seeing someone's motivations and behavior misinterpreted in such a manner. And the way Victor Manning grilled Kimberly infuriated Tommy. Kim had been the first one to come to his defense, and he found it especially galling that she was being harangued, even if it was in an attempt to defend his father. So despite the fact the witnesses were probably helping his father's case, he still sat and stewed in anger as they afternoon droned on.

Richard Perkins entered his office that Monday evening after court let out, discouraged and frustrated. The day's testimony had been a wallow in emotional muck, as far as he was concerned. What really irritated him, however, was that it may well have worked. Kindness and compassion aside, the Billy Cranston represented by the day's witnesses was a strange, disturbed young man who sounded like he was teetering on the edge of madness. Someone who very well could make up an incredible story of an attack such as he suffered, just to exact revenge on someone he perceived as a romantic rival.

The weary attorney propped his elbows on his desktop and cradled his aching head in his cupped hands. Focusing on trying to relax his mind, he was badly startled when his door burst open and Don Bradford all but catapulted in.

"Rich, you won't believe what I found out!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Give me a minute to start my heart beating again and I'll want to hear all about it," Richard groused good-naturedly, unable to resist his friend's excited good mood.

"How'd court go today?" Don asked with some concern, not liking the expression on the attorney's face.

"Bad. Bunch of former classmates, most of whom made Billy look like a prime candidate for a straitjacket. What'd you find out? Something we can hang these bastards with, I hope."

"I think so. I just met with Barbara, and she thinks we can do it. Says it all makes sense, now. I've got all the notes and stuff here for us to go over," Don explained, pulling out his notebook, which was filled with his hasty scribbling.

"Donald," Richard said with considerable amusement. "You ever hear of this wonderful new invention? It's called a tape recorder, and detectives are using it all the time to record fascinating stuff, like this conversation with the priest."

"Ah, I hate those things. They run out of tape, or the batteries die, or they malfunction. Taking notes is much surer. Now, you want to lecture me on 'Questioning Techniques 101', or you want to hear what I found out?" the detective asked with some asperity.

"I'm all ears," the attorney said, turning his full attention to the detective. Within minutes he realized exactly how big a breakthrough the detective had made, and before he went home shortly after midnight, they'd formulated a plan to use it to best advantage.

"The defense calls Roland Oliver to the stand."

The atmosphere in the courtroom was electric. Since the testimony of the two teens the previous week, those who had been following the case closely had been anticipating Roland taking the stand. Victor Manning began slowly, skillfully laying down the groundwork; a portrait of a civically-minded attorney, a devoted husband and father, a good and dutiful son. Everything from his being an Eagle Scout, through his stellar academic career, to a recap of his charitable activities was laid out to support the defense's position that Roland Oliver would never hurt anyone, least of all a teenager.

Finally Victor turned to the events in question.

"Do you recall what you were doing on the day you allegedly attacked Jason Scott in your basement?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, nothing stands out in my mind of any significance for that date, it's been over a year, after all. I know I didn't spend it having sex with a seventeen-year-old, of that I'm quite certain. But exactly WHAT I was doing I'm not so sure about."

"What was your opinion of Jason Scott?"

"I always liked Jason. He seemed to be a wonderful friend for Tommy, helped him fit in here at Angel Grove High, accepted him into his circle of friends. We moved quite frequently when Tommy was younger; it wasn't always easy for him to make friends. It was gratifying to see him fit in so quickly here, and I attributed that to Jason's influence."

"Did you ever have any problems with Jason? Cross words, confrontations of any sort?" Victor continued.

"No. As far as I knew, we always got along just fine."

"How about William Cranston? Did you get along with him?"

"Billy? Sure. He was a lot different than Jason was, of course. Not as athletic, more passive, I guess. Maybe not exactly who I would have guessed would get close to Tommy, but I liked the young man," Roland explained.

"What did you do on the day William was allegedly beaten and assaulted in your basement?" Victor asked.

"Let's see. Tommy and Ginny had gone to Stone Canyon to shop. I stayed home; I'm not much of one for shopping. My wife and I have a deal, I make the money, she spends it," he grinned disarmingly, garnering a small spate of laughter. "Anyway, as I recall, I spent the morning looking over some legal briefs, catching up on my reading and such. That afternoon I indulged in a movie, 'Beau Geste.' Wonderful movie, the one with Gary Cooper and Robert Preston. Ray Milland. They don't make them like that anymore. I didn't even go into the basement, let alone drag an unconscious boy down there and ravish him."

Roland Oliver was doing exactly what he and Victor had hoped he would do. He was coming across as a kindly, fatherly man, indulgently fond of his son and the son's friends, calmly certain he hadn't hurt anyone.

"Let's just make this very clear, okay? Did you anesthesize and rape Jason Scott?" Victor asked in conclusion.

"No, I did not."

"Did you beat and rape William Cranston?"

"No, I did not."

"No further questions at this time."

Victor had been quickly efficient in his questioning; there was plenty of time before lunch for the cross-examination. Richard Perkins approached calmly, his body language carefully non-threatening.

"Where did you attend high school, Mr. Oliver?" he asked.

"Glendale High School."

"Were you a popular student there?"

Roland gave a self-depreciating chuckle. "No, indeed. Definitely one of the outsiders, as it were."

"But you did have friends?"

"Sure. A few, at least."

"Would you name those few for us, please?" Richard requested.

"Hmmm. There was Jack Snowden, Mickey Turner, Martin Stevens, and Charlie Evanston. Does that help you in any way?" Richard was unimpressed by Roland's supercilious tone.

"Have you kept in touch with any of these friends?"

"Well, I see Martin from time to time, he's a sales representative for a hardware chain. Otherwise, no, I haven't seen any of them in years."

"Ah, well, in case you've ever wondered ... Charlie Evanston is a cook at a Denny's restaurant, Jack Snowden's in jail, and Mickey Turner became a priest. And as you indicated, Martin is a sales rep. A fairly successful one at that, though that doesn't really compare with being an attorney, does it? But you left one name off your list, Mr. Oliver. Dennis Ayers. You remember Dennis, don't you?" Richard asked pointedly.

"Objection, Your Honor. This line of questioning is irrelevant," Victor called out, not liking the expression he saw flit over Roland's face.

"I ask the court's indulgence. The purpose of these questions will become clear in a few minutes," Richard countered.

"Overruled. You may continue, Mr. Perkins, but please get to the point of this."

"Thank you, Your Honor. Now, we were talking about Dennis Ayers, weren't we? You remember Dennis?"

"Now that you've reminded me, yes," Roland ground out.

"I'd heard you two were inseparable for quite some time," Richard commented. "Everyone thought you were the best of friends, closer than brothers. Would you agree with that?"

"I suppose so."

"What happened to that friendship?"

"We drifted apart. It happens," Roland explained as if speaking to a slightly dimwitted child.

"I've got a picture of you two, right here. From the Glendale High yearbook. See?" Richard retrieved the yearbook and showed it to Roland, who reacted as if the other attorney was attempting to hand him a snake.

"I want you to look at the picture, Roland, and tell the court why you two lost contact. You're under oath, may I remind you. Look at the picture!" he shoved the book in front of the reluctant witness who finally looked at the picture.

Roland paled considerably as he studied the yearbook picture, which showed him and a shorter boy standing with their arms around each other in a friendly way. The shorter boy had a muscular build, much like Jason, and fair coloring and light eyes, like Billy. From out of the pages of the old yearbook wafted the smell of old-fashioned mimeograph ink, heavy with memories.

"What happened, Roland? What happened between you and Dennis?"

"I told you, we drifted apart. We were teenagers, friendships can be transitory at that age." The man's voice was somehow less certain than before.

"I think something more than a simple 'drifting apart' occurred, Roland. You two worked on the yearbook together, didn't you?"

"Yes, I believe we did," Roland agreed reluctantly.

"And sometimes you had to work on it after school, so it would be finished in time, right?" Richard persisted.

"Yes. It was quite a responsibility, getting the yearbook out. We took it quite seriously." He was a bit paler than usual.

"Tell us what happened when you stayed after school with Dennis Ayers, to work on the yearbook. Tell us what he did to you in the darkroom."

"Nothing! Nothing happened!" Roland's white face was shiny with perspiration, his eyes the eyes of a trapped animal.

"You're lying, Roland, you know you're lying. Dennis assaulted you, didn't he? Right there in the darkroom where you guys worked on the yearbook. Didn't he?" Richard's voice was uncompromising and harsh.

"Don't be absurd, of course he didn't. That's preposterous," Roland tried to bluster.

"Is it? Seems you told Mickey a little about what happened, and he's of the opinion perhaps you should get some help. Mickey knew exactly what you were talking about, because Mickey spent his own time in the darkroom with Dennis. But the first step's admitting it happened."

"No!" More a desperate plea than a denial this time. Memories were coming back behind those haunted eyes, things the man had spent over two decades trying to deny, burying the memories deep. The sudden attack from the more muscular teenager. Being bent over and bound and used. Used so hard and so viciously. The deep burning pain from his damaged sphincter, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. His strangled cries of pain, pleas for mercy, and Dennis's laughing snarl. Staring down at the faded linoleum floor, seeing a drop of blood splash, knowing it came from him. And over and above it all, the smell of mimeograph ink and darkroom chemicals.

"It happened Roland, you know it happened."

"No." Panicked.

"Yes." Implacable.

"Yes!" The word seemed to explode out of the man, leaving him oddly deflated in the aftermath. "Damn you, okay. Yes, he did. I trusted him, and he attacked me. I've never felt so ashamed of anything in my life," he continued. Once the memories had been released it seemed he was unable to stop talking. "He tricked me, I had trusted him, he tricked me and tied me up, and, oh, God, it hurt so bad. How could he do that? He was my friend!"

"Why did you assault Jason and Billy?" Richard asked before Roland or anyone else could stop his momentum.

"They would have hurt Tommy!!" Roland shouted. "I had to keep them from hurting Tommy! I did it for him, so he wouldn't know what it was like to be hurt by someone he trusted. I had to hurt them before they could hurt him. You see that, don't you? It's the best way to handle this type of thing, an eye for an eye. It even says so in the Bible."

A hush fell over the courtroom, broken only by Virginia Oliver's surprised sob. It was as if the world stopped for just a moment in the wake of the shocking revelation, and the very air was crackling with tension.

Tommy's face was white and shocked, his eyes reflecting the devastating pain of his father's confession. In that one moment his world fell apart, and he buried his face in his hands to hide his tears as his mother began to cry. The teen had believed in his dad completely and the sense of betrayal was too much for the young man to bear stoically. And his father's claim that he'd done it for Tommy, that was salt in the wound, making him somehow responsible for the act that had so hurt two of his friends. The thought of Jason and Billy caused even more despair; how could he ever face them again? And underneath it all, an uneasy combination of pity and disgust for the teenager his father had been, and the man he'd become.

Jason and Billy both slumped in their seats with the sudden release of tension. For them Roland's confession was an unexpected gift, something they'd never expected. They hadn't been unaware of the fact their case had not been going well, and the fear that Roland would be found innocent, and their ordeals thereby negated, at least legally, had made the last few days a living hell for them both. They'd not even realized how much stress they were under until Roland's confession released them.

Behind the two teens, their parents were also experiencing a release of barely recognized tension. Joe realized that Don must have finally gotten some of those former friends in Glendale to talk, and the revelation he'd come up with was a brilliant surprise. He looked back toward the rear wall of the courtroom, where Don was usually lurking, and caught the man's eye. Joe gave him a smiling thumbs-up sign, grateful for what the dedicated detective had done.

Kimberly looked over at Tommy with tear-filled eyes, knowing his pain had to be almost unbearable. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, how Tommy's faith in his father was the only thing holding him up. Now with that gone, Kim was worried for him. She caught Katherine's eye and saw the blonde was obviously having the same thought. She found herself praying the former Ranger would let his friends help him through the pain.

Trini, Zack, Adam, Rocky, and Tanya all felt a sense of relief along with an aching sorrow. They were glad the trial was over, gratified that their friends had been vindicated, while hurting for Tommy and the damage this would do to his family. As they had feared, it turned out to be a no-win situation.

Victor Manning threw himself down on his chair in utter defeat, Roland's confession having taken him completely by surprise. Roland himself turned to his attorney, still trying desperately to make him, make someone, understand he had only done what a good father had to do.

"No further questions," Richard said softly, returning to his seat.

It was the most natural thing in the world for them to meet again at the Juice Bar after court was dismissed. Jason and Billy had left together with their families, presumably to discreetly celebrate the end of the trial. Tommy and his mother had been spirited away by family friends, who had formed a human wall of protection around the distraught woman and her son. And the seven former Rangers who'd loyally attended every day of the trial decided to have their own post-trial get-together at their favorite table.

"Can you guys believe it?" Rocky asked in wonder, rolling his glass between his hands.

"Incredible," Tanya agreed. "I honestly thought they were going to lose after the testimony Monday made Billy look like a mental case. Did he really do the things they talked about?"

Zack and Trini both laughed at that. "Oh, yeah, and then some. Being Power Rangers caused all of us to do some very odd things now and again," Zack told her, looking around to be sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"Sorry I ended up missing out on that," Tanya murmured, only partly in jest.

"Yeah, we had some good times," Rocky agreed. "Guess that's all over with now. The gang's never going to be the same."

Kat laid her hand on Rocky's forearm. "We can still all be friends, Rocky. It will just be a little different, that's all."

"A little different? Can you really see Jason, Billy, and Tommy getting together any time soon? Why didn't Roland just name Tommy his accomplice? I mean, geez, what a thing to lay on his son. 'I hurt your friends for you.' Pretty much a copout on what he did," Rocky pointed out.

"I don't think it was a copout, Rocky. I suspect Mr. Oliver honestly didn't even remember what he did, or why he did it. His confession was not faked, I'm sure of that," Trini countered.

"Fake or not, copout or not, it doesn't matter. Tommy is totally devastated by this. I saw the look on his face. God, this is going to kill him," Kimberly moaned.

Trini reached over to put a comforting arm across her friend's shoulders. "He'll be okay, Kim. You know how strong Tommy is. This is hard, sure. But he can and will get through it. I just hope they don't send his father to prison for years."

"Why not?" Adam demanded, his expression angry. He ignored the comforting hand Tanya put on his shoulder. "That man hurt Billy, hurt Jason, hurt his own son even, when you get right down to it. And you don't think he deserves prison for that?"

"I don't think his going to prison will help anything. You heard what he said, the same thing happened to him when he was a kid. It's a vicious cycle, Adam. A kid is molested, and grows up to molest. It happens all too often," Trini said calmly.

"Are you suggesting Jason or Billy would ever do anything like this? Come on! They know firsthand how terrible it is," Rocky pointed out.

"No, I'm not suggesting Jason or Billy will go on to molest someone else. Mainly because they're both getting help. That's the huge thing, right there. Besides, I'm guessing Mr. Oliver never intended to do what he did. I don't think he's a vicious person at heart. He acted out of the damage done to him years ago. He does deserve some compassion," Trini stated.

"Hmph. I find it hard to be compassionate to someone who tied down and beat and raped one ... two ... of my friends," Adam countered.

Tanya sighed sadly. "Then be compassionate for Tommy's sake? His dad going to prison isn't what Tommy needs, either."

"I just feel so bad for all of them. I know it's foolish, but I kept hoping somehow they'd find out it really hadn't happened," Kat said softly. She looked around and had to smile at the expressions that greeted that confession. "I know, it wasn't going to happen, but I could hope, couldn't I?"

"I just think it's important to remember they are all our friends, and we need to be there for them. All of them, if they'll let us. There wasn't a winner in this situation, just losers," Kim said, looking around at the group. They all fell silent, considering her words.

"You got that right, Kim. No winners in this one. But we still are their friends, so we'll stand by them, right?" Zack asked, glancing around. He picked up his smoothie and held it aloft. "No matter what, we're all friends."

The others raised their own glasses with the quiet exclamation of "Friends!"

Roland's confession had made any decision by the jury a moot point, and the judge had declared sentencing would be done in two weeks' time. The former Rangers had tried to contact Tommy in the nonce, but he made himself unavailable, and avoided all contact with his friends. Outside of that the group of former Rangers began to get on with their regular lives again as summer began to mature. Several of them would be attending Angel Grove University. Rocky was going into business for himself, and Jason was helping him get that started. He and Trini began to date 'officially', much to the gang's delight. Trini had decided to forgo returning to Switzerland, as had Jason, but Zack planned to make his decision at the end of summer. Billy was still seeing Barbara frequently and looking at different colleges to attend.

In the wake of his dramatic confession some facts about what happened finally became clear. Roland had honestly not remembered the attacks on Jason or Billy, but had committed them in a sort of blackout state. Dennis Ayers had been killed ten years before, his bullet-riddled body found in an alley in Elko, Nevada. His murder remained unsolved. It turned out he had not only assaulted Roland, but Mickey Turner and Jack Snowden as well. Mickey had gotten counseling, and turned to his faith to get him through, but Jack hadn't been so lucky and was now serving a life sentence for murder, on top of a string of sexual assaults he'd committed over a five-year period.

The courtroom was filled to capacity the day Roland was due to be sentenced. The bailiff brought him out to his seat beside Victor Manning, and he looked over at the two teenagers sitting once again with Richard Perkins. Judge Addison looked at Richard first.

"Before sentencing, does the prosecution have anything to say?" he asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. I would like to read a statement prepared by the two plaintiffs." The Prosecutor stood up and began to read from a typed sheet. The two teens had labored over the statement with Claire Scott's help for several hours until they got down what they felt needed to be said, in as formal a format as they could manage.

"When we first decided to press charges against Roland Oliver, we had two primary goals in mind: affirmation that harm had been done to us and assurance that the same harm would not be done to anyone else. With his confession in court we got the first thing. There is no longer any doubt that a crime was committed against us, and who committed that crime.

"The second point is not so easy - how to prevent this from happening to anyone else. Sentencing Roland Oliver to prison will assure that for a few years at least, he cannot hurt anyone else. And the odds are he'd be quite punished, probably brutally so. But we can't help but wonder what's the benefit in that? The long-term benefit. There's none we can see. The Oliver family will be devastated; he'd probably come out of prison with more problems than he went in with. So, while we can admit the idea of Mr. Oliver being punished is something that appeals to both of us, too many innocent people will suffer along with him to make us comfortable with that solution.

"Plus, there is a fact that we cannot overlook. We both had help available to us to assist us in dealing with what happened, and families who love us and supported us when we needed it. From what we understand, Roland Oliver at age seventeen didn't have that option. His fear and pain were never assuaged, he had no one to turn to for help. When you really consider it, the late Dennis Ayers is the one who started the chain of events, and who knows what event in his life led to his assaulting Roland. What we do know is the cycle has to stop somewhere. Sometime, the hate and fear and violence have to end. It might just as well be now. It is our belief that with time and treatment, Roland Oliver will not represent a threat to society, but will in fact offer a great deal of good in the future.

"With this in mind we respectfully request Roland Oliver not be sentenced to a punitive prison sentence, but to a period of confinement in a treatment center, specializing in the treatment of sexual disorders. It is our hope that his future will not be sacrificed due to the pain of his past, and that from these devastating events some small good can arise.

"Respectfully,

"Jason Scott and William Cranston"

There was a thoughtful silence in the court as Richard finished reading. "It's signed by both plaintiffs, " he said, handing the document to the judge. Judge Addison looked over the letter, then rested his gaze on the two teenagers.

"You two really feel this way, huh?" he asked gently.

"Yes sir," Jason replied firmly as Billy nodded beside him.

Sitting behind Roland were Virginia and Tommy Oliver, and they both looked over at the two former Rangers with grateful expressions.

"Thank you. Counsel, does the defendant have any statement to make?"

"Yes, Your Honor, I do." Roland stood up before Victor Manning could speak.

"I just want to say I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." He forced himself to look at Jason and Billy. "I hurt two innocent people with my actions, and I recognize that nothing I can say or do will reverse that. And for that I'm sorry, more sorry than I can ever express. When I was practicing as an attorney, I heard my fair share of confessions, and expressions of remorse, and never fully understood just how sincerely they can be meant. What it's like to stand on this side of the fence, and know I've caused irreparable harm to someone. It's a horrible feeling." He seemed to rouse himself from a sort of reverie. "I'll abide by whatever the court decides is fair and judicious punishment for the crime I have committed. Thank you." He sat down and stared at his cuffed hands.

Judge Addison sat thinking for a few minutes, thumbing through the case file. Finally he looked up with a slight frown. "Will the defendant please rise. Roland Oliver, you have been found guilty of one count of rape, one count of assault, and one count of child molestation. Given the unusual and extraordinary circumstances of this case, I am moved to leniency, however. You are to be sentenced to a period of not less than six months in a treatment facility, at which time your case will be reviewed and the issue of further confinement decided upon. Your attorney has requested that said confinement be executed at a facility in Kentucky, I believe. That is acceptable to the court, and is where you are hereby committed until such time as the counselors there declare you no longer a threat to society. This case is closed."

Two days after the verdict was passed Virginia and Tommy Oliver left Angel Grove for Kentucky, and the house where Roland defended his son against a nonexistent threat was put on the market. Tommy continued to cut off all contact with his former Ranger teammates.

A month later Billy Cranston left Angel Grove for New York to attend Columbia University, with a major in physics. His father moved to Oklahoma to take a position with a different retail chain store, and start night classes at a nearby university. He was finally pursuing the future he'd put on hold at Billy's birth.

Jason stayed in Angel Grove and attended the police academy there while still helping Rocky establish his dojo. After graduating from the academy, the younger Scott decided he needed a fresh start in a new town. He left Angel Grove three weeks later, after his application was accepted by the first city he'd applied at.

Eventually the sordid case of the local attorney who raped two teenage boys ceased to be a major topic of conversation in Angel Grove, and new horrors were found to captivate the citizens.

EPILOG:
Jason Scott let himself in his apartment and immediately crossed to the air conditioner and set it to high. Nine months of living in Phoenix and he still wasn't used to the heat. He quickly stripped off his uniform and jumped in the shower. He had just finished and was crossing to the bedroom to get dressed when a knock on the front door caused him to change course, wrapping his towel around his waist as he went. He took a quick look out the peephole and gave a gasp of happy recognition.

"I don't believe it!" he grinned, opening the door.

With a slightly cocked eyebrow Billy gave Jason a teasing once over. "Interrupting something? I could come back later," he offered with his own grin.

"Don't you dare! Come on in. What in the world are you doing in Phoenix?" Jason asked with a laugh.

"Just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by for a visit," Billy joked, his eyes alight with good humor.

"Billy, no one is ever just in the Phoenix neighborhood," he countered.

Beneath the good-natured bantering there was a more serious undertone. Earlier that day Jason had noticed the date, and his thoughts had been filled with his quiet friend, wondering how he was doing. It had been a year since Judge Addison had spoken the words 'case closed', signifying the end of a completely miserable chapter in their young lives. Jason hadn't seen much of Billy after that, and it wasn't that long before the blond moved to New York to start school and a new life far from California.

Looking his childhood friend over carefully, Jason was pleased to note the other young man had regained the weight he'd lost in the immediate aftermath of Roland's attack. The former Blue Ranger was once again lean but muscular, the lines of his face reflecting his inner calm. Jason flushed a bit, realizing Billy was returning the scrutiny.

"Caught me, huh? I was just thinking you look good. Better. How are you, really?" Jason asked with an intent look.

"Better. I'm still seeing a therapist in New York, but we seem to be winding down. Things got bad for me right after I moved there; homesickness, loneliness ... on top of the other issues ... well, it was hairy. But I got through. How about you?"

"Good. The force provides assistance if needed, but I've been okay."

"What happened with you and Trini?" Billy asked after a slight pause.

"She never wrote you? I thought she kept in touch. Well, it just didn't work out. I love her, but not that way, you know? Our breakup was amicable, to say the least," Jason reported quietly.

"I'm glad you were able to maintain the friendship at least. Though I thought you two made a good couple. And to answer your question, no, I didn't keep in touch. Have you?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Mostly through Trini, but I know what everyone's up to."

"Well? Give me the scoop, man. The latest dish, I think it's referred as," Billy smiled.

Jason had to grin at that request. "Well, let's see. Tanya and Adam are a couple, both attending AGU with majors in communications. Rocky's dojo is doing great, he's got a government contract, would you believe? Keeps him very busy, and the business very much in the black. Trini is pre-law, getting ready to transfer this coming year. Kimberly is studying business and teaching gymnastics at Rocky's dojo. I understand they are also an 'item'. Oh, Zack got a job as a choreographer for a talk show. A huge break, or so I'm told. He's ecstatic. And Katherine is taking general courses at AGU, still undecided on a major."

"Given in true police report form, just the facts," Billy quipped, smiling at Jason's flush. There was one more person on both their minds, but neither one wanted to bring him up.

"Force of habit, I guess. You hungry? I haven't had dinner yet, and was planning to eat out. My treat," Jason invited.

"Sounds good, thanks. Any decent Mexican food places around? I'm dying for a good Mexican meal," the blond queried with a longing look.

"Absolutely. Just let me put on a few more clothes and we can be on our way," Jason replied,

"I was wondering if they required clothing in this town, seeing as how you seemed so comfortable wearing just a towel," Billy teased him.

"Smartass. I'll be right back," the burly young man mock-growled, heading toward the bedroom.

They kept up a steady stream of cheerful, bantering conversation as they ate a huge dinner in a small, out-of-the-way restaurant Jason had discovered. The atmosphere was friendly and casual, which suited their moods perfectly. Both were unconsciously sounding out the other, and frankly happy with what they were finding.

After dinner they returned to Jason's apartment and settled down with beers in the living room.

Conversation eventually flagged, and they sat quietly for a time, each lost in his own thoughts. It was, Jason decided, now or never, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Billy, there's something I have to ask you, and I want you to give me an honest answer. I've been afraid to ask this question for over a year now, and I can't stand to have it hanging over my head any more." He took a deep breath, and mentally braced himself. "Do you blame me for what Tommy's dad did to you?"

"Huh?" Billy asked, completely confused. "Why would I blame you?"

"Because I didn't report it when Mr.Oliver attacked me. If I had, you wouldn't have been hurt." Jason noted in a detached part of his mind that they both shied away from using the term 'rape.'

Billy looked down for a long time, thinking, while Jason waited, his heart beating painfully. "I suppose at some level, yes, I do blame you. Please understand, I don't want to blame you. I understand completely why you didn't report it. If I'd had any choice, I wouldn't have reported it either. Especially not right after it happened. God, that was awful, the whole scene at the hospital, then having to do the lineup. And Jason, I also realize you did come back to report it, and I doubt I would ever have had that courage. So, I guess the answer is yes and no. Do I wish you had reported it and stopped Mr. Oliver before he could get me? Yes. Do I understand why you didn't? Yes. Am I harboring hatred for you in my heart because you didn't? No." Those warm blue eyes met Jason's dark ones frankly and without fear.

"Thank you," Jason said softly, his heart lighter than it had been in far too long.

"You're my friend, Jason, and have been for a very long time. I'm not ready to sacrifice that friendship to the likes of Roland Oliver."

The two young men regarded each other solemnly, until Billy smiled suddenly. "Before we start getting all sentimental and mushy, maybe we should have another beer?" he suggested with a laugh.

"Good idea," Jason agreed, standing to do just that when there was a knock on the front door. "Must be my day for visitors," he muttered as he took his customary look outside. He turned from the peephole and gave Billy an amazed look. "You aren't going to believe this." He opened the door.

"Tommy, come on in," he invited quietly as Billy came to his feet in the room behind him.

The tall young man, his trademark long hair trimmed short, stepped into the room self-consciously. He glanced quickly at the other two men and visibly gathered his courage to speak. "Jason. Billy. Good to finally see you," he said.

"Good to see you, too," Jason replied. "Come on and have a seat. I was just getting us another beer. Would you like one?" he offered easily.

"Yes, please," Tommy replied, taking a seat on the couch while Billy settled back down on the easy chair across from him. Jason returned to find his two friends both silently contemplating their feet.

"Well, this is fun," he quipped; handing the others a fresh bottle of local beer each. Slightly strained smiles met his comment.

"How've you been, Tommy? What're you doing these days?" Jason asked when the silence became too heavy.

"I'm doing okay. Taking classes at the community college in the town we moved to. Teaching at a local karate school at night. It's good, there. A good place to be," he said.

"How're your parents doing?" Billy asked cautiously.

"Mom's doing better. She, ah ... she started drinking a bit when the trouble hit last year. It got out of hand, but it's better now. Dad just got released. He's on really strict probation, until they tell him otherwise. He's looking for work, something easy, to just get used to being out again," Tommy reported.

"Good. Sounds like they're doing better," Jason said. He hated the awkwardness, the tiptoeing around certain subjects. They had once been the best of friends, able to discuss anything, any time. Each of them ready and willing at any moment to place their life and safety in each other's hands. Now conversation resembled navigating a minefield. They could barely look at each other. This just wasn't right; he wasn't quite ready to sacrifice their friendship to what had happened in the Olivers' basement.

"Guys, I can't do this any more," Jason said abruptly, causing the other two to look at him curiously.

"Do what?" Billy asked.

"Do this dance around each other. We used to be best friends! Now look at us. Afraid to say the wrong thing. Afraid to mention what happened to us. Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say we're afraid of each other, and that's ridiculous." He took a deep breath and looked at his two friends. "Two years ago Roland Oliver bent me over a table and raped me. Last year he did the same thing to Billy. Because, as it turned out, someone had done the same thing to him years before. And we paid for that. We paid in innocence, in faith, and in trust. But I'll be damned if I want to pay in friendship as well. All three of us have lost a great deal in the last two years, and my gut feeling is that unless we want to lose our friendship as well, we need to start talking. This has got to be worked through; we've got to move on. And I'd really prefer moving on with both of you as my friends. What do you say?"

Billy's smile was rueful beneath tear-filled eyes. "I say the two of you are worth it."

They turned to Tommy to find him openly crying, hugging himself as if in pain. "I'm so sorry, so sorry I didn't believe you. I was so sure you were wrong, that my dad wouldn't do that. Then to find out I was the reason he did it ... I figured you two would never want to see me again, so I left without seeing you, because I couldn't bear to see the censure in your eyes. Now you say you want my friendship? I don't deserve to be forgiven so easily." His voice had faded to a hoarse whisper at the last.

"Tommy, I'd have done the same thing if it'd been my dad. Billy too, I'm betting. I never blamed you for believing in your dad. Well, okay, maybe at the time I did, but later, when I'd had a chance to think about it? No, you did what you had to do, what your heart told you to do. You aren't to be blamed for that," Jason said with quiet conviction.

Tommy looked at him with a wary look, barely daring to believe his friend was sincere. But the expression in those midnight depths was warm and accepting, and lent Tommy the courage to hope he might not lose the friends whose value he'd not fully realized until they were gone. He glanced at the lighter eyes of the former Blue Ranger and saw a similar warmth reflected within. He covered his eyes with his left hand and took a deep breath. They'd done it again, like they had so many years before, when he first faced them after being released from Rita's evil spell. They'd offered him acceptance and unconditional forgiveness for what was past, and offered him friendship with which to face the future.

"Thank you," he breathed, struggling manfully with his composure. "I can't believe you two forgive me. Thank you." He reached out blindly, instinctively, and the other two responded in kind. Somehow, without quite knowing how it happened, then ended up in a three-way embrace. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for them to do so. After a few minutes they stepped back again, looking at each other with unguarded affection and warmth.

"I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off me at last," Tommy said, smiling despite his still moist eyes.

His two friends regarded him solemnly, then Billy piped up with a grin. "Hey, no problem, always glad to help."

The three of them looked at each other and suddenly erupted in nearly hysterical laughter. They laughed at the absurdity of them sitting in this small apartment pouring out their hearts and souls to each other like a gaggle of teenage girls on a sleepover. They laughed with the giddy relief of finally being able to offer and accept each other's forgiveness and understanding. They laughed because none of them ever drank much and the beer was going to their heads. They laughed until Jason's neighbor pounded on the door and threatened to call the police, to which Jason shouted back he was the police, causing yet another round of hilarity. They laughed because they'd finally come out on the other side of a long ordeal: older, wiser, perhaps a bit sadder, but still friends.

And as long as they had that friendship, they had everything they needed in life.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Dagmar Buse for the beta read.

E-mail: kittiec@starpower.net