Unspoken
by Starhawk

They shouldn't have done it. He had left that message beacon for them--they shouldn't have left it behind. But Andros had not seemed to think it important, had not appeared to believe it was anything more than a temporary form of communication, as ethereal and fleeting as a subspace comm transmission. He didn't see it as a tangible thing, left by the Phantom Ranger as a substitute for his own presence.

They shouldn't have left it behind. But the others had followed Andros's lead, and she had been too embarrassed to make a scene about it. Her hesitation had been bad enough, after the second message that had been so obviously meant for her. She had been holding back tears, watching him struggle so to get the words out and wishing she could be at his side.

But with the others watching, all she could do was hope her smile didn't look too forced as she slowly walked away. She *knew* she was acting like an infatuated little girl, and she hated the knowing looks her old Turbo teammates exchanged when they thought she wasn't looking.

She had never fallen for someone as hard as she'd fallen for him. She tried to tell herself it was a crush, and it would pass. She didn't even know what he looked like, for heavens' sake. She didn't know the first thing about him--where he'd come from, who he was, what he did during the time he was not with them… which lately, was *all* the time.

She tried not to sigh. The strangest feeling had hit her the instant she teleported into that clearing on the outskirts of Angel Grove, all those months ago. It had almost been as though someone was suddenly there with her, looking over her shoulder and staring with her at the scene of devastation left by the battle they had been too late to join in.

As fast as she turned, though, she wasn't quick enough to catch anyone behind her. She had put it down to nervousness, but the feeling had refused to go away. As the others spread out to search for any lingering traces of fighters, good or evil, she had paused warily, glancing around for the fiftieth time since she'd rematerialized.

His image had leaped out at her, reflected in the side mirror of an abandoned pickup truck as he hid on the other side, trying to catch his breath. The feeling of a presence at her shoulder suddenly increased tenfold, and without knowing how she was instantly certain that he was the source. The standard warning across the bottom of the vehicle's mirror burned into her mind as she edged around the end of the truck: Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

His cloak had hidden him before she could get an unobstructed view of the mysterious Ranger, but she had known he was still there. He had to be--she could still feel something, someone too close for conversation but too far to really touch, someone whose Power was somehow boosting her own. That was the oddest part: the rest she could put down to an overactive imagination, but she *knew* her Power inside and out, and it wasn't this strong…

She had reached out on instinct, trying to grab hold of something intangible and more than a little unbelievable, and had gasped when her hand actually touched something. There was nothing there--but there was. "Who are you?" she had asked without thinking, and had been startled when someone replied.

Two words, and his presence had started to fade. She felt herself standing alone again, and felt suddenly much smaller in the deserted clearing. The Power flux diminished, and the energy that had once seemed overwhelming every time she morphed now seemed inadequate compared to the inexplicable rush that had come with him, and gone as he left.

Ashley had not felt it. She had asked her friend later, and privately, if she had noticed any augmentation of her Power, or even that strange feeling of someone standing right behind her no matter where she moved. The Yellow Ranger had just looked at her as though she was crazy, and she had started to think she might be.

She had felt it again on the beach, and tried to ignore it, telling herself it was the invisible pirahnatrons that had spooked her. But there, crouched in the sand, she had felt her energy flare suddenly, and she knew beyond any doubt what she would see when she looked up. His invisibility gone, he extended a hand to her, and she had done her best not to flinch at the fire his touch sent through her. It had felt as though he had yanked her into a teleportation beam and wrapped her in his arms all at once, and for the briefest second she had felt like she could tell what he was thinking.

But he let go of her hand the instant she was on her feet again, turning to walk away before she could shake the confusion from her mind. He had always done that; disappearing before she could collect herself and leaving her with a feeling of trying to hold her own against a hurricane. And he never touched her again, at least not of his own accord.

Even so, reaching out to him today had been second nature. She had thought she would be able to do what she had to, even knowing he was there, but the sight of him had arrested her midstep, and only the greatest strength of will had been able to force herself to stand with her teammates until Ecliptor had vanished. Then she had holstered her blaster and run to his side, afraid for the obvious pain in his stance and his near-inability to stand despite the flood of Power she could feel racing through him.

She had tried not to gasp as she took his arm, his energy almost tearing her own Astro Powers out of her control, and she wondered how he could survive a tide so intense. The fact that so much strength was only just keeping him on his feet frightened her even more, and she moved closer, trying unconsciously to lend her support, such as it was, to containing such an incredible amount of energy.

That feeling of someone looking over her shoulder was back, as strong as ever and closer than the presence had ever felt--except the time she had helped him out of Havoc's prison. Even as now, he had leaned on her and swamped her with the feeling of being wrapped securely in his embrace. She had wanted desperately to know what that would *really* feel like, and she had pulled away from him then at the first excuse, before she could do something foolish.

This time, though, she hadn't been able to. It had been so long since she'd seen him, heard his oddly accented voice, felt that exhilarating surge of energy. She couldn't step away, and it was all she could do to keep her voice calm and level as she asked if he was all right. She was acutely aware of the others gathering around the two of them, and especially of Andros's stare while the others tried to pretend there was nothing more to the situation than met the eye.

She had stayed with him as long as she could, barely hearing the conversation and dreading the time when he would once again turn away from her to leave. But he had let her hold him, not contributing even as the others tried to decide on the best way to track Zordon, and she knew with a sudden sinking certainty that he stayed, not because he wanted to, but because he was utterly incapable of walking away.

He was hurt worse than any of them realized, and her heart had screamed at her not to leave him when Andros's communicator summoned them back to Earth. It terrified her to think of him here alone, defenseless, and as close to collapse as he had once been without his ruby. She had opened her mouth to say that she wasn't going with them when he wrenched his arm away from her and stumbled toward Andros, saying something about a Delta Megaship and how imperative it was that they have it.

Their abrupt separation made her dizzy, throwing her Power down to normal levels in the blink of an eye and leaving her suddenly small and isolated from everything she had been feeling. Anger flickered within her, and she glared after him. This was nothing more than duty to him, a task to be performed no matter the obstacles. *They* were nothing more than a duty to him…

Hurt and resentment made her stay silent, then, as Carlos called their Gliders. She leaped onto hers without a backward glance, thinking bitterly that if he died then at least he would have accomplished one more goal on his checklist. Had she ever meant anything more to him than that?

This time she did sigh, closing her eyes on her darkened room and trying somehow to erase that memory. It had been childish, she knew. He had never said anything to her because he didn't *feel* anything for her. That was just the way it was, and she *had* to stop expecting more. It wasn't his fault that she had a hopeless crush on someone she'd never even met face to face, and she should have said something to the others about his condition rather than stalking off like a sulky child, leaving him to fend for himself in an obviously precarious situation.

At the very least, she shouldn't have let her embarrassment keep her from picking up the message beacon he had left them. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was important, and shouldn't have just been left on the planet's surface for anyone to find.

She got to her feet reluctantly, making her way through the deserted corridors of the Megaship to the jump tubes. Everyone else had to be asleep by now. She ought to have been, too, but this wouldn't take long. Just a minute to return to Hercuron, retrieve the beacon, and come back. Then she could finally stop agonizing over *one* of the questions that tormented her mind, and maybe, possibly, be that much closer to sleeping herself.

The world turned sparkling coral as she leaped into the tube, landing fully morphed on her Glider as it streaked out into the void of space. The Megaship, still in orbit around the jungle planet, receded to a pinpoint of light as her Glider dove through Hercuron's atmosphere and slid to a halt just inside the clearing she and the others had returned to hours before. The sun was just setting on this part of the planet, and the message beacon lay, rather forlornly, she thought, on its side in the grass, probably knocked over by an animal of some sort.

She bent down, intending only to pick it up and return to the Megaship. She had no particular desire to see the small image of him suffering even as it tried to stay on its feet, and she certainly didn't want to hear those words he had said to her at the end. So condescending, so thoroughly hurtful; he had made her feel even younger and far more transparent than she had thought she was. But the message beacon activated with her presence, and as she reached for it, the hologram flickered into view once more.

She froze, unable to help watching as he tried to stand straight and get his formulated sentences out before they realized how injured he had really been. It was painfully obvious to her that he was barely keeping himself upright, but none of the others had said a word. Reaching out instinctively, wishing she could help him somehow, she wondered how they could possibly not have noticed.

His second message started to play, and she sank to her knees, closing her eyes. He must think she was such a child… She didn't want to hear the message again, but she couldn't bring herself to cut even this recording of his voice off. It was beautiful, regardless of the nature of the words or the pain in his tone, and for a brief moment, she let herself become lost in the sound.

Then there was only silence, and the hum of the message beacon. She lowered her head, a little frightened by how obsessed she had become with him, and even more so because she *knew* it and couldn't stop. She didn't even know him, but despite his indifference toward her… she would still do anything to be near him.

The beacon started to beep again, and she sighed. It must have an autoloop function, making it replay its messages until the listener turned it off or moved out of range. She opened her eyes and reached out to stop the beacon before it started again, but she was too late.

His words reached her ears once more, only this time there was no hologram, only a sort of dark shadow where his form had been projected before. Choked and barely understandable, she heard his voice whisper, "I love you so much, Cassie." There was a brief hesitation and she heard him struggling to draw breath as he murmured, "Why can't you feel it too?"

The hopelessness in his tone brought tears to her eyes even as she stared in shock at the beacon. She heard him cry out, and suddenly an image appeared--him on his knees, mirroring her position in front of the beacon, drawing his hand away from something in front of him even as the glow of teleportation enveloped him.

"No," she whispered, stretching her hand out as he vanished. "Wait…"

But it was too late, hours too late, and she knew it. "I love you," she whispered anyway, feeling a tear trickle down her cheek.