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Entry tags:
Lonesome Valley (Power Rangers Time Force)
Summary: Wes will save them all. (Vereco AU)
Disclaimer: Characters belong to somebody else. I'm not sure which entity right now, but it's probably something like BVE.
Spoilers: End of Time
Author's Notes: The idea for this particular fic came in the middle of choir practice. Lent has a lot of self-sacrifice and soul-searching, and I think that's why I was inspired to do this little piece on why Wes did what he did at the end of EoT part 1.
Lonesome Valley
by Estirose
copyright 2002
Staring at the little clear card, Wes let go of his past.
He had known, ever since Alex had given the five of them the news, that he wasn't going to survive. He'd been willing to go along with it, helping Jen and the others pack up and leave. Go home, safe and sound, to 3000.
Except his teammates hadn't seen it that way. In a conference that he wouldn't have known about except for that awful dream, they had agreed to stay and fight. Die for a people and a century that had once upon a time been ancient history for them.
It was what Rangers did, apparently. Fight one's best and die to save the world if needed. Ten centuries of Rangers had taught his teammates that much. They had taken that lesson to heart and remained, disobeying orders much like they had when they'd fled to his century.
Or was it his century, after all? Like the rest of them, he'd been born in the thirtieth century. Like his teammates, he'd been born in a lab. The difference was that he had been created for a political purpose instead of out of love.
Somehow, it was fitting that he'd die in the time that had adopted him, proving that he was not Alex. If he could. Alex had almost died once, doing the same job Wes did now. Alex had been willing to die too. The only difference between the two of them was that Wes had had to fight to be a Ranger.
Of course, maybe Alex had too. Wes was pretty sure he'd been gifted with something of Alex, but besides his looks, he wasn't sure exactly what.
He never had mentioned it much to anyone, not since Alex had started acting like a cold-hearted jerk, but he admired his original. Trusted him. And even though Alex had no idea what Wes was, would never think of Rialtson sending his clone back to the twentieth century, Wes sometimes thought that Alex was weighing his words and decisions as if Wes truly belonged among them.
Jen and the others... they had been effectively planning to kill themselves. Commit suicide. All because they had become attached to his adopted time. He'd seen the look in Jen's eyes as she told him that she was going to stay in his and defend the city. No amount of persuasion could take her or the others from their path.
Somewhere, in a thousand years from now, Katie's family was waiting to have her come home. Lucas had his racing career to think of. Jen had a future ahead of her. And Trip, his very good friend Trip, would die before he found anybody to love.
He couldn't let them die, not when they had a chance to get back home and go back to the lives that they left. Left wiser, and stronger, by his association with them, as he had become from his association with them.
But they weren't going back on their own. So he, the only one who wanted to obey orders, was the one stuck making sure that they obeyed. He didn't want to die, not without his friends, but sometimes one just had to do what was right.
He was going to die. But he wasn't going to take anyone with him. Sure, it was suicidal, but in a thousand years, it really wouldn't matter that one Ranger did his duty and died anonymously. He wouldn't be remembered, except by his friends, and that was the only thing that mattered.
It wasn't until he got to the ship that he'd found out how to save them all. A simple lucking-out of running across the manuals, a speed-read on the auto-pilot. He read fairly fast, he knew, and he had never been so grateful for that as he had at that moment.
If Lucas hadn't figured things out, gotten suspicious at the last moment, things would have gone off splendidly. The others wouldn't have known that he was sending them away until they were actually off. He wouldn't have their last words running about his head.
They had adopted this time, just as he had so many unknowing years before. They were unwilling to let go. He'd had to see them, pounding on the window, last desperate pleas to get him to come back and release them.
And what would have happened then? Jen would have yelled at him, and they would have fought together, and died. Not a fate he would have chosen for any of them. Better to just accept that he was going to be alone. That he was going to die, alone and afraid. He'd made his own choices, walked his own path.
Committing suicide, in a way. Going out in an anonymous blaze of glory, one of the random victims of the destruction. Nice, in a way, to not be remembered at all.
He would have rather had a full life, but some things just didn't work out when one had destiny breathing in one's face.
But the others were safe. They'd go on to have nice lives, and he would be a pleasant memory. He, who wasn't really meant to be, would have a meaning in their lives. Even if he had to die for them. To make a difference for those he'd loved.
Getting rid of the card, Wesley Collins walked towards the town and prepared to die.
-end
Disclaimer: Characters belong to somebody else. I'm not sure which entity right now, but it's probably something like BVE.
Spoilers: End of Time
Author's Notes: The idea for this particular fic came in the middle of choir practice. Lent has a lot of self-sacrifice and soul-searching, and I think that's why I was inspired to do this little piece on why Wes did what he did at the end of EoT part 1.
Lonesome Valley
by Estirose
copyright 2002
Staring at the little clear card, Wes let go of his past.
He had known, ever since Alex had given the five of them the news, that he wasn't going to survive. He'd been willing to go along with it, helping Jen and the others pack up and leave. Go home, safe and sound, to 3000.
Except his teammates hadn't seen it that way. In a conference that he wouldn't have known about except for that awful dream, they had agreed to stay and fight. Die for a people and a century that had once upon a time been ancient history for them.
It was what Rangers did, apparently. Fight one's best and die to save the world if needed. Ten centuries of Rangers had taught his teammates that much. They had taken that lesson to heart and remained, disobeying orders much like they had when they'd fled to his century.
Or was it his century, after all? Like the rest of them, he'd been born in the thirtieth century. Like his teammates, he'd been born in a lab. The difference was that he had been created for a political purpose instead of out of love.
Somehow, it was fitting that he'd die in the time that had adopted him, proving that he was not Alex. If he could. Alex had almost died once, doing the same job Wes did now. Alex had been willing to die too. The only difference between the two of them was that Wes had had to fight to be a Ranger.
Of course, maybe Alex had too. Wes was pretty sure he'd been gifted with something of Alex, but besides his looks, he wasn't sure exactly what.
He never had mentioned it much to anyone, not since Alex had started acting like a cold-hearted jerk, but he admired his original. Trusted him. And even though Alex had no idea what Wes was, would never think of Rialtson sending his clone back to the twentieth century, Wes sometimes thought that Alex was weighing his words and decisions as if Wes truly belonged among them.
Jen and the others... they had been effectively planning to kill themselves. Commit suicide. All because they had become attached to his adopted time. He'd seen the look in Jen's eyes as she told him that she was going to stay in his and defend the city. No amount of persuasion could take her or the others from their path.
Somewhere, in a thousand years from now, Katie's family was waiting to have her come home. Lucas had his racing career to think of. Jen had a future ahead of her. And Trip, his very good friend Trip, would die before he found anybody to love.
He couldn't let them die, not when they had a chance to get back home and go back to the lives that they left. Left wiser, and stronger, by his association with them, as he had become from his association with them.
But they weren't going back on their own. So he, the only one who wanted to obey orders, was the one stuck making sure that they obeyed. He didn't want to die, not without his friends, but sometimes one just had to do what was right.
He was going to die. But he wasn't going to take anyone with him. Sure, it was suicidal, but in a thousand years, it really wouldn't matter that one Ranger did his duty and died anonymously. He wouldn't be remembered, except by his friends, and that was the only thing that mattered.
It wasn't until he got to the ship that he'd found out how to save them all. A simple lucking-out of running across the manuals, a speed-read on the auto-pilot. He read fairly fast, he knew, and he had never been so grateful for that as he had at that moment.
If Lucas hadn't figured things out, gotten suspicious at the last moment, things would have gone off splendidly. The others wouldn't have known that he was sending them away until they were actually off. He wouldn't have their last words running about his head.
They had adopted this time, just as he had so many unknowing years before. They were unwilling to let go. He'd had to see them, pounding on the window, last desperate pleas to get him to come back and release them.
And what would have happened then? Jen would have yelled at him, and they would have fought together, and died. Not a fate he would have chosen for any of them. Better to just accept that he was going to be alone. That he was going to die, alone and afraid. He'd made his own choices, walked his own path.
Committing suicide, in a way. Going out in an anonymous blaze of glory, one of the random victims of the destruction. Nice, in a way, to not be remembered at all.
He would have rather had a full life, but some things just didn't work out when one had destiny breathing in one's face.
But the others were safe. They'd go on to have nice lives, and he would be a pleasant memory. He, who wasn't really meant to be, would have a meaning in their lives. Even if he had to die for them. To make a difference for those he'd loved.
Getting rid of the card, Wesley Collins walked towards the town and prepared to die.
-end