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They’re on a trip. Her father got promoted, some time after the end of the world that wasn’t, and they have money for things like this, now. It was a good time for it for her, too. Things had been quieter lately on the Ranger front and, well, she could get back in a hurry if she needed to.
Billy had built a genuine goddamn teleporter after studying the ship specs and Zack’s powers, one that worked for all of them no matter where they were in the world—as long as they were connected to the Morphin’ Grid.
And they always were. Trini tried to focus on that sense of connection as she folded herself into their minivan, as the streets of Angel Grove faded away behind them. They weren’t leaving for good, this time. This wasn’t her fourth move in as many years.
Her coin was in her pocket, the metal laying warm against her thigh even through her jeans. The boys were chattering away in the seats in front of her, leaving the entire back row to Trini, her mother and father were smiling up in the front, and Trini would never be alone again.
Jason?
She asked, like tapping on a fishing line. The question vibrated along their connection and sent ripples through the bond.
Trini. He answered, seconds later, a warm red embrace settling somewhere under her eyes, wrapped up around her shoulders like a hug. One by one the others fell in, piggy-backing off of Jason’s open broadcast.
Black, kinetic movement, an endless expanse of energy; Blue, infinitely curious, unshakable; Pink, like a warm shield between Trini and the world. Colors swirled into a current under her skin, something that pulsed Power and connection and kinship and truth; like a second heartbeat, like a rainbow in her veins. Something indestructible.
Know any good roadtrip games? She nudged Zack, who laughed, bubbling and overflowing from Trini’s chest.
Because I travel so much, his words were a brush of lips over her collar bone, wry yet full of amusement.
Utterly useless, she despairs, all warmth and no heat; Trini nudges his thigh with her own.
Cheer team and football players rode plenty of busses to plenty of away games, Jason offered up, apologetic but not self-depreciating for once. But it was mostly shooting the shit, no real structure. Kim?
Oh, please. When we all had phones and petty gossip? Her hair smells like strawberries. Always, strawberries.
I know some. Well, not for roadtrips, but me and my dad played all sorts of games in the car. You know. I’d elaborate except I’m—kind of—in the middle of something, stupid machine!
The stop-start worried her and worried Jason even more, the team leader’s attention going right to what Billy was doing and where. He was on his back beneath some sort of motor, engine, or otherwise indescribable piece of alien machinery extracted from the bowels of the ship.
Need a hand? Jason asked, only two clicks faster than Zack, who was already kissing his mother’s forehead in preparation for a trip up the mountains.
Seeing he was fine, and in good hands besides, Trini relaxed away from that interaction, focusing her thoughts lazily on the rush of pink dawn hazy at her temples.
Wanna Netflix and chill? Kim’s voice was mischievous, the grin obvious in her thoughts.
Trini shifted in the backseat, getting comfortable, and leaned back against Kim’s headboard, legs swathed in a fluffy comforter. The logo was already flashing for some 14-season series that Trini had never heard of, but it was hard to care; Kim’s thigh was soft and strong against hers, biceps brushing until Kim said fuck it and leaned over fully, her cheek warm on Trini’s shoulder.
The ride to Los Angeles passed quickly because Trini wasn’t there. Trini was in bed with the prettiest girl in the world, talking about everything and nothing at all, only halfway paying attention to the screen.
When her mother reached back to touch her shoulder, it was Kimberly’s hand that roused her. A kiss to the corner of her mouth was more real that the sunlight streaming into the crowded car. She opened her eyes and saw dazzling pink; she opened her eyes and blinked against the heavy yellow California sun.
“Trini, we’re here!” One of the twins said, and her mother’s hand retreated with a small smile, strained at the edges; she was trying, though, and that was enough for Trini most days.
“So we are.” She observed, blinking away the glare. She pulled her hand out of Kimberly’s slowly, fingers lingering. Drifting.
“Are you excited for our vacation!?” Her other little brother demands, his shoulder butting against her with clumsy youthful enthusiasm.
“You know what? I think I am.”
Home was never far behind; it lingered inside her. It reached out with rainbow fingers and there was nothing stopping Trini from reaching back.