"Wake up, kid," she called, striding around the corner. "Time to go back to your nice warm bed and your teddy bear--"

She came up short as she pushed the door open and found a familiar figure lounging in the swivel chair at their temporary command post. Dark eyes assessed her in a single glance, and the look of amusement on his face made her bristle. "I don't sleep with a teddy bear," he remarked. "But if you're offering yours..."

Taylor glared at him. "This was supposed to be Max's shift!"

He shrugged, leaning back in the chair and putting his hands behind his head. "He didn't exactly complain when I took over."

"Well, I'm taking over now," she huffed. "So you can just get out."

The way he smirked gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "That's very kind of you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on tonight. I thought I'd just stay here and keep an eye on the time hole while I finish up a few things. You're welcome to join me, of course."

She folded her arms. "Forget it," she told him. "If you're staying, there's no reason for me to be here."

"Oh, but there is," he said smoothly. "What if I get done five minutes from now? I don't want to be stuck covering your entire shift, Lieutenant. Why don't you just do your job, like a good little soldier?"

"What do you know about being a soldier, Commander?" she spat. "Just because you carry a weapon and order people around doesn't mean you have what it takes!"

"What do you know about what it takes?" he demanded. "All you do is what you're told!"

"It's called the chain of command," she retorted. "Don't pretend you don't take orders from whoever pays your salary."

He pulled his hands out from behind his head and sat forward in his chair. "The Silver Guardians aren't mercenaries, and they aren't vigilantes either. They do what has to be done to protect this city when regular forces aren't enough. You of all people should understand what that means."

"I understand that you've made it your life," she shot back. "The Silver Guardians will go on without you, Eric! You don't have to defend them every second of the day!"

His eyes were hooded as he stared up at her. "Says the Air Force pilot," he said, biting off each word with a bitterness that surprised her. "Get off your high horse and listen to yourself for a minute! Which one of us are you talking about?"

She gaped at him. Then, in lieu of any suitably acerbic reply, she grabbed the scanner off his desk and stalked out of the room. Turning the instrument in the direction of the time hole, she fumed quietly to herself while she tried to get her anger under control.

"It's still growing," Eric's voice intruded a moment later. She shot a look over her shoulder and saw him leaning against the doorframe, weariness dragging his shoulders down even as he looked past her. The shadows that had been hidden while he was sitting down were now clearly visible on his face in the light of the hallway.

He looked terrible, she realized suddenly. She ruthlessly squashed a flicker of sympathy. No one had asked him to wait up for her shift tonight.

"We had to evacuate some of the offices upstairs," he added, eyes still fixed on the invisible tear in the space-time continuum. "We moved our other guards a safe distance from where we anticipate tomorrow's edge to be, but everyone's armed with detectors so they can monitor their relative positions."

"You have that many detectors?" she asked, frowning down at the scanner in her hand. "What did you do, rob the future?"

"We built them," he said matter-of-factly. "It's not difficult once you know what you're monitoring."

She gave him a sharp look, and he glanced over at her at the same time. "Or at least, that's what the engineers tell me," he added, deadpan.

She felt her mouth quirk, and she looked down quickly to keep him from seeing it. She could read the scanner only because he had shown her how to use it, but she preferred not to think about that. For now, she tried to concentrate on the time hole: it was growing faster than the one at the library, and it didn't show any signs of stabilizing.

"Anything come through?" she asked. "How many guards do you have on duty?"

"Nothing's come through." He didn't sound as though he thought that was good news. "I can't help thinking that the longer we go without activity, the more likely it is that there's someone on the other side waiting for the right moment."

"How many guards?" she repeated, looking up at the time hole.

"None of your damn business," he snapped.

She glanced over at him, raising a single eyebrow at his outburst. It was an expression she'd perfected over the years, rebuking him for his childishness while absolving herself of any guilt. She'd found that sometimes not arguing was as effective as yelling.

He folded his arms across his chest. "Sixteen," he said stiffly. "Two for each affected section, plus three reliefs and the rotating Ranger guard."

She smiled at the minor victory, and he glared at her. "You don't have to look so smug, Earhardt. The only reason those three backups are here is to compensate for the inexperience of you and your friends."

"Funny," she retorted. "I thought the only reason we were here was to compensate for the inexperience of your soldiers!"

"Anyone can pick up a morpher and call themselves a Ranger," he informed her. "Silver Guardian training is selective and rigorous."

She snorted, unimpressed by the comparison given his history. "Anyone can steal a morpher, you mean. Real Rangers are chosen!"

He drew his weapon and the floor beside her left foot exploded before she even realized what he was doing. She leapt out of the way with what was probably an unintelligible shout even as something slithered across her peripheral vision. The tentacle whipped back from the vaporizing force and rebounded against Eric's ankle, yanking him off balance as it clamped down and hauled him away.

He was gone before she had time to react, but she had her growlphone to her ear even as she ran for their temporary office. "Cole! Get to SGH, now!"

She didn't wait for his reply. She fumbled with the regular desk phone for several seconds before finally hitting the "emergency" button in the lower right corner. Damn Eric for not getting her a headset! Those she knew how to use.

"This is Taylor Earhardt," she said to whoever might be listening. "I need backup at the first location of the time hole. Commander Myers is gone. I repeat, Commander Myers is gone."

She hung up the phone and skidded out the door again. The hallway was ominously empty: no tentacles, no security, and no Eric. She continued full tilt down the corridor toward that invisible portal, paying no attention when her growlphone lit up and then cut off mid-ring as the air rippled around her and she was plunged into darkness.

Something caught her foot immediately and she slammed into a wall. The sound of weapons fire from somewhere up ahead made her push away and stumble blindly in that direction. Dropping one hand to her morpher again, she yelled "Wild access!" and was only half surprised when nothing happened.

"It's never easy," she muttered, cursing as her extended arm banged into a corner. "Eric!"

White stars flashed across her vision and pain exploded through her head. She was on the ground before she knew what had happened, and it seemed to be moving underneath her. She was sliding, she realized distantly. She should do something about that.

The air above her caught fire. Sparks rained heat and light down on her and she felt something grab her arm. As she struggled against the restraint it dawned on her that her legs were free. A violent kick and a calculated risk turned that grip to her advantage as she lurched to her feet, hissing at the pain-induced disorientation.

For a moment, the hold on her arm was the only thing keeping her upright. Eric. She didn't have to see him to know, and it occurred to her that he had just rescued her from whatever slithery tentacled being had caught hold of her. That had been his weapon that fired, and he must have come back for her when she yelled.

She wasn't sure whether his actions or her own helplessness annoyed her more.

"Move." His voice grated in her ear. "We've got to get out of here."

"The time hole," she gasped. Jerking her arm free, she grabbed for him reflexively when she felt him stumble. "We have to warn the others!"

She jumped as something brushed against her leg and the world spun as the tentacles came seeking again--slower than before, but how long would that last? Being shot must have had an effect on them. If only being concussed hadn't had an effect on her, they wouldn't still be faced with a stalemate.

"The others know," Eric said harshly. She couldn't tell if the arm around her shoulders was for him or for her, but right now getting out of the dark seemed like an awfully good idea. "We're no good to anyone unconscious."

That was a persuasive argument. She held onto that thought as they swerved and banged their way through a corridor that seemed to be doing its best to stop them. If they hadn't had to stamp and shoot their way out of tentacles every few seconds at first they might have taken the time to find a wall and follow it, but whatever was behind them had to be worse than inanimate obstacles.

Her head pounded in time with their footsteps, and every jolt made agony lance through her skull. Although the adrenaline of running made the pain a secondary concern, she had never been more grateful to slow her stumbling pace while they tried to feel their way out of the maze they seemed to have blundered into. With the way Eric was leaning on her she couldn't tell which of them was in worse shape, and asking now wouldn't help anything.

The musty light of long unused windows gradually penetrated the gloom they struggling through, and they forced their way through the eerily silent space between corridor and outer wall. The quiet dance of dust motes in the ancient light, stirred only by their passage across the floor, was surreal after the confused mayhem they'd been through in the depths of the building. The first door they came to refused to budge, and the crack as she kicked it open resounded strangely in her ears.

Sunlight assaulted them the moment they were through the entrance and she could hear traffic in the distance even as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to turn away. She heard Eric curse, probably because she was supporting more than half his weight and had just thrown him off balance. The pain was suddenly that much more real, stabbing at her eyes as she forced them open again. The dark labyrinth behind them seemed like a dream in the face of this beautiful sunlit day, but her body wasn't going to forget so easily.

"Don't stop," he gritted, hand in a death grip on her shoulder. "We need to get out of here now."

"We are out," she said sharply. She caught her breath as the edges of her vision greyed, and she pulled his arm off of her shoulders and lowered him to the ground as carefully as she could. "Stay here while I try to figure out where we are."

"I know where we are." He dragged her down beside him, refusing to let her go and she was just too dizzy to protest. Her head hurt. "You look like you're going to pass out."

She ground her teeth, partly in annoyance and partly because he was right. "You don't look so hot yourself," she muttered, pressing her forehead to her knees and taking a deep breath. Damned if she was going to let him coddle her when he couldn't even walk on his own.

"This is Commander Myers," he said out of nowhere, and she resisted the temptation to raise her head and stare at him. She wasn't moving for anything: posturing, hallucinations, cyclobots... you name it, she was ignoring it.

"I need a cab sent to 577 Channing Street," he continued. There was a pause, and he snapped, "If I wanted a Guardian car, I would have asked for it."

She rolled her eyes. His headset. Somehow he had managed to hang onto his headset, and it was almost worth lifting her head to see him glare at someone who wasn't even there. But why didn't he just have them send a car?

577 Channing Street. Why did that address sound so familiar? She should know it from somewhere, but she couldn't... Channing Street. Silver Street was off of Channing. What did that mean? She couldn't concentrate, but at least when she lifted her head off of her knees her vision cooperated.

"Where are we?" she wanted to know.

"Silver Guardian Headquarters." He was reaching for his boot, she noted absently. "Three years ago."

She stared at him, contemplating that. "Don't take your boot off," she said at last, voicing the first thought that surfaced through her somewhat murky mental picture. "Your ankle will swell."

"Already has." He grunted as he pulled the laces tighter, eyes narrowing in pain. "Trying to keep it from getting any bigger."

Silver Guardian Headquarters. She looked over her shoulder, very carefully, trying not to disturb her head anymore than she had to. Maybe... if she squinted, she could almost see the outlines of today's structure in the rundown old building behind them.

Of course, with the way her focus was going right now, she could probably see a dragon in it if she tried.

"How do you know it's three years ago?" she asked suddenly, frowning. The building wasn't in good shape. Assuming they weren't decades in the future, she wasn't sure it could have been fixed up in the kind of time he was talking about.

He didn't look up. "Morpher has a temporal locator."

It would. "So what day is it?" she demanded.

"November 17," he said, letting go of his ankle with a sigh. "2001."

She didn't know where her mind went, but the next thing she knew Eric was shaking her. "Come on," he said gruffly, his grip on her shoulder nothing short of painful. "Cab's here."

That meant she should get up. She tried to remember if she knew where they were going, but it took all of her concentration to get back on her feet. She barely had enough strength to help Eric up, and she thought he might be shooting worried looks at her when he thought she wasn't looking.

She didn't pay any attention to the directions he gave the cab driver, but she knew the place they pulled up in front of a few minutes later. "I don't think this is such a good idea," she mumbled, staring out at the trailer park. "How are you going to explain to yourself that you're from the future?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," he grunted, hauling himself out of the cab. He must have paid the driver, because then he was limping over to her door and reaching in to help her out.

She blinked as she realized what he was doing, batting his hands away in irritation. "I can take care of myself," she snapped, her concentration rallying through the haze of pain in her head. She stood carefully, sliding under his arm and trying not to let him see her flinch when the ground tilted alarmingly.

He leaned on her without protest, which meant his ankle had to be a lot worse than he was letting on. They stumbled up the walk, probably putting on quite a show for his neighbors but she had to admit that even she needed the support at this point. Only at the door, when he fumbled for his keys and came up empty, did she begin to realize they might have bigger problems.

But he just slumped against the doorframe, letting go of her shoulders and nodding at the next trailer. "Spare key's under their flowerpot," he muttered.

She didn't ask. The moment she started up the neighbor's steps, though, the screen door banged open and a little girl glared at her from the top of the stairs. It took her a moment to recognize Alice, three years younger and dressed in kids' overalls. "Who are you?" the child demanded.

She tried not to flinch at the piercing tone. "I'm a friend of Eric's," she said, keeping her voice as calm as possible. "See, over there? He forgot his key."

"Eric doesn't forget," Alice declared, but she followed Taylor's gaze anyway. Eric lifted a hand to wave tiredly at them, and Alice's frown deepened. "Well," she said doubtfully. "Okay. I'll get it for you."

She dropped to her knees on the steps, folding up on the concrete in a way that made Taylor wince. Alice just heaved the flowerpot to one side and scraped the key out from underneath it, holding it out with an angelic smile. "Just remember to put it back when you're done!"

The girl was still sitting there, watching them from her steps as Taylor struggled with the lock a few moments later. It was some universal law that spare keys never worked as well as the originals, and she had to have an audience. The lock finally gave, though, and she pushed the door open and waited to see if Eric needed help.

He gestured for her to enter first, and she just didn't care anymore. She pushed her way into the kitchen and gave in to gravity, bracing her back against the counter as she slid to the floor. The world was spinning again, and she was getting sick of the constant movement. Literally.

Pressing her forehead against her knees again, she tried to take even breaths and block out the sound of Eric limping painfully around the room. She'd been the one to walk next door and had even had to talk to someone, so he could just take care of himself for a few minutes. All she wanted was for the throbbing in her head to stop. Just for a moment.

"Here." Something nudged her shoulder, and she dragged her head maybe an inch up off of her knees to blink blearily at Eric's boots. "Take this."

She managed to lift her head higher, comprehending finally that he was offering her aspirin and a glass of water. Her fingers closed around the glass on the first try, and she could feel him watching her movements critically. She wasn't going to try for the aspirin, so she just held out her open palm and he dropped them into her hand.

She swallowed and put her head down on her knees again, letting the glass rest on the floor beside her. Now that she had stopped moving the pain was washing over her and showed no signs of abating for something as insignificant as aspirin. Anything to be alone with her misery.

"Concussed?" Eric's voice drifted down to her from the direction of the refrigerator, and she thought she heard him opening the freezer door.

"Don't know," she muttered into her knees. What did it matter? Maybe she should stop fighting the periodic greyness caused by moving too fast. She wouldn't mind being unconscious, if only to escape this head-splitting pain. "Probably."

He didn't answer, and she forced herself to form appropriate words of concern. "Your ankle?"

"Not broken." He didn't sound too sure of that, and he followed it up with a grudging, "I don't think. You want more aspirin?"

She must be scaring him by not moving, she thought distantly. "Yeah."

It took a minute, but then he was back with another glass of water and more aspirin. He waited for her to take them before he joined her on the floor, leaning back against the cupboards with a grunt that sounded like it had been forced out through gritted teeth. She listened to him breathe for a moment, uneven and far too hard, and she handed the second glass back after she'd swallowed the aspirin.

He took it without a word, draining the tumbler and letting it hit the ground with a clink. She narrowed her eyes at his boots, catching sight of the ice pack in his hand. She supposed he hurt as much as she did, and he had to have just as many still-forming bruises. Being a Ranger sucked.

Pushing away from the cupboard, she was a little surprised when her head didn't immediately protest. The pounding ache produced no new needles of pain even when she inched forward, pulling loose the laces on his boot and starting to unwind them. They came free easily enough, but his sharp hiss when she tugged on the boot itself made her wince in sympathy.

She lifted his leg and braced it under her arm, easing the boot off as quickly as she could. She rescued the ice pack from his hand and draped it over his ankle as she lowered his foot to the floor. Pushing herself up, she felt the dizziness return and caught herself against the counter with a muffled curse. If she fainted, it would be his fault.

He didn't say anything as she made her way to the freezer and pulled out another ice pack. She couldn't help being annoyed that he had only had the cheap plastic ones three years ago. Grabbing a cushion from the chair in the corner, she put the second ice pack on top of it and stuffed it under his ankle while he sat and watched through slitted eyes.

The nausea caught up with her when she straightened up again, and she stumbled toward the bathroom.

She felt better after that, oddly. The aspirin must be doing its job. As she rinsed her mouth out, though, it occurred to her that she'd only heard the bottle rattle twice. Once for her... and then again, for her. Rolling her eyes at her image in the mirror--and sighing in relief when the motion brought no new discomfort--she made her way back to the kitchen and plunked the aspirin bottle down on the counter above his head.

She saw him flinch at the sound and felt no sympathy. "If you won't take a damn painkiller when you can't even walk," she snapped, twisting the cap off, "I refuse to feel sorry for you." She retrieved yet another glass from the cupboard--she wasn't bending over any more than she had to--and filled it with water before passing it down to him.

He accepted the glass, but not without a token protest. "The Quantum Power--"

"I don't want to hear it," she interrupted. "I was a Ranger before you were, and I know all about what the Power does and doesn't do. Take it," she added, pressing the aspirin into his hand.

He took it. She watched while he finished a second glass of water, then caught it before he could set it on the floor with the rest of his collection. Her headache was slowly, slowly subsiding to levels that could actually be called a headache rather than an ongoing catastrophic explosion inside her head. With the reduction of pain came an increased ability to reason, and she started to consider their situation more carefully.

"How long do we have?" she asked at last, glancing around the kitchen. "Where are you, anyway?"

He was quiet just long enough to make her look at him, and she caught his grimace as he closed his eyes. "The hospital," he muttered. "Or I will be. In and out for the rest of the week."

He had only been in the hospital once that she knew of. "The battle with Doomtron," she guessed, watching his reaction closely.

He just nodded. "We won't run into me," he said after a moment, eyes still closed as he relived a time he didn't like to talk about. "I spent the rest of the time at the Collins' place."

She looked at him too long; his eyes opened and he stared back at her with a combination of pain and curiosity. She blinked off the reverie, not quite daring to shake her head yet. "Move your toes," she said abruptly, dropping her gaze to his injured ankle.

He hesitated just a fraction, and she was glad of the excuse to glare at him. "Unless you want me to poke and prod your ankle for the next five minutes, move your toes." The ice should have numbed his muscles at least a little by now.

He did it, even moving his foot slightly for emphasis, but he couldn't manage without flinching. She wondered what his new recruits would think about their fearless leader, the one who had fought Doomtron with two broken ribs and a twisted knee, grimacing over a sprained ankle. She wondered how much they would pay her to let that secret slip.

"Don't smile like that," he grumbled, frowning at her without lifting his head. "Makes me nervous."

His expression was probably supposed to be threatening, but it only looked--

"A lot of things make you nervous," she retorted, without any real venom. "You need to put your ankle up and get some sleep."

"Only if you do the same." He was still giving her that look.

She turned away, heading for the bedroom without another word. It had to be almost morning in their time by now. She held onto that thought as she straightened his unmade bed, trying not to think about a time when she had done this out of affection rather than necessity. But she couldn't help smiling when she found his stupid dinosaur boxers tangled in the sheets.

Pulling open the bottom dresser drawer, she grabbed one of his sweatsuits and threw it on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her blouse without a thought, dropping her own clothes on the floor as she changed into the sweats. She was tempted to toss them in with his laundry, but since she knew she'd just have to put them back on when she woke up...

She turned to get hangers from his closet and came up short when she saw him standing in the doorway. "Damn it," she swore, trying to calm her pounding heart as she glared at him. "You want to just yell 'boo!' while you're at it?"

"It's a thought." His knuckles were white on the ice packs he had clenched in one hand, and she saw him tremble a little with the effort of staying upright.

With a sigh, she went to him and wrapped his arm over her shoulder again. They were getting pretty good at walking like this, she thought wryly as she helped him to the bed. Maybe they could have three-legged races instead of twister at Max and Danny's next party.

"You want sweats?" she asked, getting his old black pair without waiting for an answer. She dropped them on the bed beside him and went back to hanging up her clothes. When it took him longer to change than she could reasonably spend in the closet, she escaped to the bathroom and stole his toothbrush with only a minimum of guilt. Like they hadn't shared more than that not so very long ago.

This time, she was listening for his footsteps and she was still caught off guard. Lifting her head, she saw a flash of black and skin in the doorway and tossed him an irritated glance over her shoulder. "Can't you just be a normal invalid?" she groused, rinsing his toothbrush and putting it back in the holder without apology.

Unless she was seriously mistaken, that was a smile tugging at his lips. "Back at you, concussion woman," he said quietly. "See you in bed."

She narrowed her eyes as she squeezed past him, more on principle than anything else. It had been a while since she'd seen him this... unguarded. She just couldn't bring herself to take advantage of it.

She paused only long enough to close the shades before collapsing on the bed. The sheets smelled more familiar than she cared to admit, and she buried her head in the pillow without worrying too much about the psychology of sleeping with one's ex-lover. She wasn't sleeping on the floor, and Eric had taken the same beating she had. They would just have to be adults about it.

She heard the toilet flush, listened to the water run in the bathroom for a few minutes after that, and then his limping gait shuffled into the silence of the bedroom. He settled onto his side of the bed with a barely audible sigh, and she heard him shift ice packs and extra pillow repeatedly as he tried to get comfortable. The mattress settled a little, creaking under his weight.

The room wasn't dark, but it had long ago ceased to be strange. The Eric Myers of this time might never have met her, but she had slept here many times before. She dozed off to the sound of his breathing.