It was Billy who found her. Sweet, innocent, awkward Billy, who fumbled the most basic social interactions time and again. Who could detect amino acid signatures two galaxies left and three dimensions down, but was constitutionally incapable of asking out a girl without stammering himself into a seizure.

This was the person who finally found Kim on the stone floor of Drakkon's palace, naked and bleeding, shivering, half-conscious.

Bless his heart, Kim would later think, when she was able to think. He handled it like a pro.

He was in morph, helmet on, but Kim knew it was really him – her Billy, not the Billy of Drakkon's world. The Billy of Drakkon's world was dead; the triceratops morpher was safely hidden in the Coinless camp. There could be no other Blue Ranger here.

He'd been eagerly searching for her, calling her name in that wavery voice which didn't match the strong lines of his costume, but when he finally looked around the pillar that hid her, she saw a little jolt go through him, and his voice died. For a full two seconds, he didn't move. Kim could practically hear the gears whirring in that massive brain of his.

Though she'd prayed for rescue for weeks, she had also dreaded this part of it, this inevitable moment. The moment when someone else knew.

She pulled her knees in tighter. Tried to make herself smaller.

"Billy!" Jason's electronic voice buzzed through the chamber. "You're closest to her last known location. Anything?"

Beep. Billy turned off his communicator.

Another second of silence passed.

Kimberly stared at her toes. She had no idea what was supposed to happen now. She didn't want to talk, couldn't answer questions. She just wanted to go home.

And Billy seemed to get it. He disappeared from view briefly – Kimberly closed her eyes, wondering if he'd been unable to deal and had run for help – but in a moment she was wrapped warmly in heavy cloth.

Billy had torn down a curtain for her. The only cloth available in this particular part of the palace. It was velvet, dusty but thick and soft. Almost instantly, Kim felt herself relaxing into it. It was the first comfort she'd had in days.

Billy picked her up without effort; the Ranger strength made the weight of a seventeen-year-old girl meaningless. Kim felt like a baby in his arms, and perversely found herself stifling a giggle at the thought.

I'm in shock.

"Kim, you're in shock. I know you want to rest, but you need to stay awake a few more minutes."

She rested her head on his shoulder, sank deeper into the velvet blanket he'd wrapped her in. She'd never felt so safe.

"Kimberly!"

"I'll try," she attempted to say. She found her mouth was dry, so dry that she was unable to swallow. As she choked and coughed, Billy ran smoothly. Chamber walls flew past Kim, accompanied by pillars, portraits, sculptures – why had Drakkon kept the sculpture of Rita? He'd killed her, hadn't he? Rita, along with the Jason and Billy of this world, and endless millions of others.

A cold liquid sensation uncoiled in her stomach. The illusion of safety faded.

"He's coming back," she gasped, managing a little more volume this time.

"We know. It's under control."

"He has my coin. And my morpher."

"All accounted for."

"He killed Skull, he found out about the spying– "

"We're aware. Saba has been remarkably useful in providing us with empirical data regarding Drakkon's activity in this universe. He's also assisted in fabrication of a teleportation field generator."

Who's Saba? thought Kim. Her disorientation was getting worse.

She could hear the battle now. Explosions, the crunch of Zord feet, Zack's enthusiastic laughter, the piercing vibrations of Blade Blasters. She could localize none of it; her senses were shot after days without decent sleep. A new fear gripped her – that this was all a dream, or a nightmare, and she'd wake up to Drakkon's laughter.

She tried to clutch at Billy's arms to make sure he was real, but the cloth she was wrapped in restricted her range of motion.

"In other words," Billy continued, "We have a way out."

Drakkon's voice slithered through Kim's memory. Fight all you want, Pink. There's no way out.

Kim squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face beneath Billy's chin. His insistent reminders that she needed to keep herself awake a few more minutes seemed to come from a distance. She felt as if she were deep underwater.

The rest of the rescue felt like it was over in a minute, though Kim could tell by the change in scenery when she opened her eyes that Billy must have been running at least an hour. They were deep in a rocky forest. The explosions were far away and quiet.

The teleportation field generator Billy had spoken of looked appropriately post-apocalyptic: it appeared to be made of the remains of cars and air conditioners, and maybe a few pieces of Zord. These pieces comprised an ugly circle, perhaps six feet in diameter, jutting precariously up out of a rock formation.

This rusty, jagged perimeter housed a pool of white light, humming with energy.

Billy's work, for sure. He'd probably thrown it together in a couple of hours, Kim thought wryly. He was the real deal, a genius inventor like the world had never seen – practically wasted as a Power Ranger.

But she apparently couldn't trust her own vision any longer. Floating next to the technological miracle was something much stranger – a sword? A white sword with a curved blade. It was upside-down, and its hilt had the head of a white tiger carved into it.

Kim could have sworn it spoke.

"Well done, Ranger."

"I've lost comms," Billy said. "Tell the others that Kim's safe, that we'll be in the med bay. They're good to evacuate."

"You're certain the field will hold?"

"Affirmative."

Zap. Crack. A painless, if noisy, flash of white light startled Kim briefly, and then they were through.

The Command Center felt tiny and warm. Kim wanted to press her bare feet into its familiar carpet, but Billy had her out of the control room and into the med bay before Zordon, or even Alpha 5, could comment – though naturally Alpha's beleaguered wails for an update followed them until Billy firmly shut the door in his face.

"He'll be fine," said Billy.

Kim, still wrapped in her velvet curtain, found herself lying on a cushy black platform, holding a bottle of water with a straw sticking out of it. The cold water was revitalizing, and she was soon able to sit all the way up with Billy's assistance. After Billy released her and removed his helmet – and carefully avoided her eyes, turning immediately to a control panel – Kim again became aware of her nakedness. She found the energy to pull the fabric around herself more tightly.

Fortunately, the command center tech didn't require her to show anything.

A few laser-like lights whooshed over her: scanners. A paper readout spewed from a computer into Billy's hands, which, Kim noticed, were just slightly shaking.

"Uh, mostly good news," he said. "The damage is largely superficial. Um. That means surface-level."

"Oh, I know. You're not the first person to call me superficial," Kim said. She hadn't exactly meant it as a joke, but it came out that way, and when Billy gave a surprised little smile, she found herself smiling too.

It was a huge relief. Somehow she had thought that after… this… there wouldn't be much smiling and joking in her life anymore.

"Um, so," said Billy, "Hey, keep drinking, you're significantly dehydrated… There's evidence of two semi-recent concussions, but you're past the danger point, so no treatment should be necessary. One broken metatarsal and phalange – that's – it basically means your toe, but the fractures aren't displaced, in fact, they're mostly re-fused, which means you won't…"

Kim saw Drakkon's boot once again weighing down on her foot. He'd smiled his weirdly canine smile as he'd applied more and more pressure. His face had been inches from hers.

Billy's voice was picking up speed. "…multiple hematoma, which sounds serious, but it essentially means bruising. I can relieve the pressure with a needle drain if it becomes too painful. But time should take care of most of it."

He hesitated.

"As for the… the bite marks… and the other places where your skin is abraded, I can… I can treat those here… um… it's just a topical antiseptic and maybe a few spots where you'll need a prismatic suture, which is virtually painless and less likely to lead to scarring than traditional stitches…but… you might prefer… I don't know, perhaps for your…um…psychological health, it's entirely possible and understandable that you might…want…"

He took off his glasses and attempted to clean them on his Ranger outfit. When that was unsuccessful, he removed a glove and used it to polish them.

Kim thought about telling him to put the helmet back on, since it seemed to help him communicate, but she restricted herself to, "Go ahead, Billy, you're doing great."

"Oh. Thank you. I'm trying to say…you might want to go to a hospital for treatment. But it's not necessary. I could treat you here."

"Then why would I want to go to a hospital?"

"Because. You might prefer a professional. A stranger. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with me doing… I'd have to look at the wounds, that's all."

Oh.

She wasn't proud of the fact that her first instinct was No way.

How silly. A regular hospital was a terrible idea; for sure they didn't know half of what Billy did about science, and they'd charge money, and there would be questions – Kim was a minor, they'd probably have to call the police, and then what? She'd have to face her parents… They'd probably fight in the hospital room over whose fault this was. Endless trouble, no rest, no peace.

And of course she trusted Billy. Hell, he'd already seen her naked, what did it matter if he looked a little closer?

Still. It did take Kim a couple of deep breaths before she was able to manage, "I'd rather not go to a hospital."

"Okay." He blinked, nodded, and put his glasses back on.

He's as nervous as you are, Kim thought. Be cool. Try to make him comfortable.

She was okay for the first half of the treatment. The deep bite wound on her right breast had become inflamed, and the cream Billy carefully applied soothed the burning sensation. For the two deepest tooth marks, he used what looked to Kim like an ear-piercing gun; it turned out to shoot a tiny fiber-optic web, Spider-man-style, across the opening of the wound and pull it shut with only the tiniest unpleasant pinch. It was so fascinating, Kim briefly forgot her situation.

Billy worked quickly across her upper body, cleaning and closing tiny wounds on her back and arms. It was all clinical, and they didn't exchange many words.

But the worst had to come eventually.

Billy said, "Sorry, I need you to… to lie down…" and Kim did. She closed her eyes and spread her legs no farther than was absolutely necessary. Billy worked in silence. It barely hurt at all, just a sting here and there. Probably five minutes. She started crying the first minute in, and he didn't comment, but when he was done, he sat her up and let her sob into his shoulder.

It wasn't quite as comforting as she wanted it to be. He was still morphed, so his arm and shoulder were hard as granite. It was a bit like crying onto a statue, albeit one covered in cloth. And Billy didn't appear fully comfortable either; it seemed he couldn't place his hands anywhere with confidence, and his hug was awkward and incomplete, like he was trying not to hurt her.

She wanted a smothering bear hug, but there was no way she was going to ask him for one. He'd given her enough today.

It turned out he wasn't out of favors, though. When she was through the worst of her crying fit, he sent her into the bathroom to take a shower, and when she came back, she found a stack of neatly folded clothes waiting for her. He had apparently teleported into her room at her mom's house to get them.

He looked a little offended when she laughed out loud, and she had to explain that the thought of the Blue Ranger going through her underwear drawer was just too much.

He sighed and unmorphed. Kim suddenly loved his stupid overalls and baggy T-shirt.

He'd done better with her clothes than his own. He didn't need to be a fashionista; he had a good memory, and in addition to a set of pajamas, he'd chosen an outfit Kim had worn several times. Even found the shoes and socks to go with it. She wouldn't be wearing both shoes, though. Billy had also brought a stabilizing boot for her broken foot, essentially a cast that could be taken on and off at will. It was a big black sports-equipment looking monster, and Kim resolved not to wear it.

As she dressed in the pajamas behind a panel – God, it seemed so silly to worry about modesty now – Billy gave her the update.

The team was back. Safe. Definitely not murdered by Drakkon, he emphasized when she questioned him, and they'd even managed to get Kim's morphing tools back.

Too good to be true.

They wanted to see her, but Billy had told them she needed eight hours in the quantum stabilizer for neutron realignment due to delta radiation poisoning she'd suffered in Drakkon's palace.

"What? Poisoning? Eight hours? Why didn't you mention-?! I just want to sleep…"

"You can, Kimberly. I made all that up. We don't even have a quantum stabilizer."

Billy brought her to a suite she'd never known about – the Command Center was much bigger than she'd thought – with military-style bunk beds and a fridge stocked with what appeared to be astronaut food.

"It's in case we need to stay here long term, like in the event of nuclear fallout. The food is better than it looks, I promise."

He made sure she had plenty of blankets and pillows, gave her an awkward half-hug again, and started to leave.

At the doorway, he paused and turned, and she didn't like the set of his shoulders.

"Kim."

"Billy."

She was spent, desperate for sleep, but it turned out she had enough strength left to be scared into alertness by the pain in Billy's eyes.

"Jason has your morpher and coin. He'll probably want to give them to you when you wake up, and I don't know if I'll be here then. I've got to sleep, too, and with the Morphin Grid breaking apart, Alpha will probably put me to work right away, so in case I'm not around tomorrow, I just wanted to, uh, warn you…"

Kim stared. She didn't prompt him.

"Probably, in your condition… I mean… do you know that you're… Do you know what condition you're in?" His eyes flicked down her torso.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She'd known for three weeks. Drakkon had told her.

"I don't think morphing is a good idea. Uh, for the baby. Before you try it, we should talk to Alpha about it, see if he thinks there could be side effects. Okay?"

"Yes, Doctor Cranston."

"Heh. Okay. Uh. That's all."

My hero, she thought as his silhouette – square and floppy in his nerd outfit – filled the doorway and then disappeared.

Kim realized she'd forgotten to thank him.