Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"This is the only time of year I find those pesky pinheads tolerable!”

Rita Repulsa watched the city of Angel Grove intently through her Repulsascope, its gold luster shinier than ever, thanks to Finster’s routine cleaning of his Queen’s effects. The monster maker stood in the background of the throne room, continuing with his weekly tidying of the moon base. His large, furry ears, however, remained locked on the meandering rants of his superior, always at the ready to offer solutions to her problems.


“I take it you’ve noticed the humans’ annual tradition of Halloween has returned, my royal raven?” Finster called out as he dusted around Zedd’s vacant throne.


“Ha, observant as ever,” Rita sneered with unbroken focus on the costumed citizens zipping about. “If they only knew how good being bad really is, they’d want to be evil for real and not simply pretend.”


The Queen of Mean stepped down from the balcony, her eyes meeting the empty seat her husband typically occupies. “With Zeddy away at the United Alliance of Evil Conference with Monkey Butt and my moron brother, I’m tempted to whip up some chaos on my own. Suggestions, now, you idiots!”


Squatt and Baboo, obscured in the shadows, stepped forward and began to speak over each other, to Rita’s annoyance. “One at a time!” she screeched.


“How about we recreate your Frankenstein monster and crash whatever party the Rangers are likely planning? But this time, he only speaks Spanish and causes mucho problemos!” Squatt squeed with shaking maracas.


“What? NO!” Rita spat, “Baboo, what did you got?”


"Well,” the lanky henchman mumbled, clearly unprepared, “This time last year, Lord Zedd sent Putties to infiltrate the trick-or-treating the Rangers were doing with local school children. How about we kidnap every kid and sell them on the black market?”


"Ugh, are you serious? That’s too involved, you dolt! What am I paying you for?!”


“Well, you don’t pay us, at all,” Baboo muttered under his breath, which only Squatt heard, causing him to snicker.

Rita threw herself into the throne chair and whined. “I need something devious! Something nasty! Something that’s not a rehashed plot!”


“Ahem,” Finster cleared his throat to gain Rita’s attention. “If I may?”


"Yes? Go on!”


“Um, heh… I know you said you didn’t want a rehashed plot, your Excellence, but I did find something of interest while in the castle’s basement earlier today. Apparently, you had another Crystal of Nightmares stowed away in an unmarked box.”


“Ugh! That failed experiment!” Rita shook her head and rested it against her palm. “The first Crystal of Nightmares was the product of something I started eons ago at Bandora Witch Academy. It had such promise, too! The ability to cause terrifying dreams and shatter any target’s self-confidence—it was perfect! Wait, how did the other one fail?”


“Jason kicked it! Then kablooey!” Baboo answered, gleefully, earning him a smack from Squatt. “Ow! Stop that!”


“Oh, right,” Rita huffed. “I should've chosen tougher glass, huh? I think Space Michael’s had a sale, and I cheaped out on materials.”


“Perhaps,” Finster agreed. “But with intense chemical treatment, I could toughen the spare orb, if you’d like.”


“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know,” Rita pondered the promising proposal. “I wanted NEW, not OLD… but… I’d love an opportunity to fix what went wrong. It wouldn’t sufficiently hold the magic I had conjured for it, if I remember correctly.”


“I have full confidence you can correct its flaws, my Queen!” Finster clasped his hands. “You’re ten times the sorceress you were in your school days.”


“This is true,” Rita agreed with a wicked grin. “The Academy is where you and I met. Remember when you asked me out, and you thought you had a chance in Hell of dating me? HAHAHA! Hilarious!”


“Yes, heh… a real knee slapper, heh… so, um, shall I go and retrieve the orb?”


“DUH! YES! GO!” Rita screamed, her wand pointed in the direction of the basement. “And while you play Fetch, I’ll crack open my book of spells to make sure our new Crystal of Nightmares doesn’t fail! Rangers, this will be your last Trick-o-Treat, and this time, the trick’s on YOU! HAHAHA!"

Chapter Text

♬
It's close to midnight
Something evil's lurking in the dark.
Under the moonlight,
You see a sight that almost stops your heart.
♩

Finster stalked back up the winding stairs of the moon palace basement, leaving behind the scary abyss filled with random doohickies—unused grow bombs, Tenga feed, expired Putty mold, and the like. His shadow stood tall, cast from the lantern in hand, stretching across the towering stone. 

“I must succeed! My life depends on it! And, if all goes according to plan…”

♬
You try to scream,
But terror takes the sound before you make it.
You start to freeze,
As horror looks you right between the eyes,
You're paralyzed.
♩

“...maybe Rita will finally see who’s truly in her corner and happy to help her succeed, instead of criticizing her to no end… like Zedd!”

Thousands of miles below on the Blue Planet—Edenoi’s affectionate nickname for Earth—Dex Stewart danced about his boyfriend’s bedroom as Michael Jackson’s Thriller blasted from the TV. Billy Cranston watched him passively via the vanity as he worked to perfect his coif, a never-ending effort to match The Terminator, his costume for tonight’s party.

♬
'Cause this is thriller, thriller night,
And no one's gonna save you.
From the beast about to strike.
♩

“A dash of this, a dash of that,” Finster, quiet in his dimly-lit lab, pinched enchanted spell dust over the new Crystal of Nightmares.

♬
You know it's thriller, thriller night.
You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller.
♩

“Babe?” Billy called back as Dex bounced off the bed for the hundredth time.

The Prince of Edenoi (and Halloween funk) was full-on Thriller-dancing in his own world, much to Billy’s amusement and mild annoyance. “BABE!”


“WHAT?” Dex paused his choreo as Billy approached with a scowling brow.

♬
Darkness falls across the land.
The midnight hour is close at hand.
Creatures crawl in search of blood,
To terrorize y'all's neighborhood.
♩

“Ignara flamora, stupora’kesh! From ash and ember, stand and thresh!” Finster waved his hands repeatedly over the glass orb, creating powerful wisps. “Unholy Drakos, pull back your veil! Let nightmares live and free hearts pale!”

♬
You hear the door slam,
And realize there's nowhere left to run.
You feel the cold hand,
And wonder if you'll ever see the sun.
♩

“Aisha’s due any minute to help finish decorating. Don’t you think it’s time to get ready?” Billy asked. 

♬
You close your eyes,
And hope that this is just imagination. 
But all the while,
You hear a creature creepin’ up behind,
You're out of time!
♩

The sound of demonic spirits began to ooOooohh from the darkness surrounding Finster. While his insides flinched, his expression remained strong and fierce. His motivation? To help his Empress Rita Repulsa succeed, to prove her haters wrong… because he loves her. 

♬
'Cause this is thriller, thriller night!
There ain't no second chance,
Against the thing with forty eyes!
♩

Dex looked down at his jorts and green polo and shrugged. “It only takes a minute to change.” With a mischievous grin, he grabbed Billy’s hand and pulled him close. “But before I do, I insist you join my zombie army!”

♬
Thriller, thriller night.
You're fighting for your life,
Inside a killer, thriller tonight.
♩

Dex play-bit his boyfriend’s neck and rabidly nom’d, forcing a guttural squeal from the Ranger’s mouth.


“Babe!” Billy cried with laughter. “Go change!”

Not easily dissuaded, Dex—retaining his cheesy zombie scowl—scooped his duffel and Thriller-danced out the door. “I’ll be back!”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

♬
Night creatures call,
And the dead start to walk in their masquerade.
There's no escaping the jaws of the alien this time,
They're open wide.
This is the end of your life.
♩

Round and round dark magic swirled, funneling down with a twirl. From the crystal burst a light, filling Finster with hope and fright. “IT IS DONE!”

His declaration echoed throughout the halls of the moon palace and out the windows toward Earth. But another sound, a creaking door, caught Billy’s attention as he dawned the Highwayman jacket made famous in 84’s Terminator. There stood Dex—forearm against the doorframe—sporting the cropped jersey Johnny Depp wore in A Nightmare on Elm Street.

Billy froze, his Terminator sunglasses slowly lowering. His thirsty gaze drifted to the V-shape flanking Dex's abs, before traveling the happy trail that led to the pajama bottoms below. 



And without saying a word, Billy pounced.

The two tumbled onto the bed, their mouths locked and moaning. Billy ran a hand up Dex’s jersey, while Dex’s worked to untuck the shirt from Billy’s jeans. But before things could get too heavy, the doorbell—an annoyingly cheerful chime—interrupted their fun.


“Damn her punctuality!” Billy huffed for breath, his body slipping off Dex and onto the bed. “I’ll let Aisha in. You stay back a sec and deflate that monster.”


Dex grinned at his pitched tent as Billy retucked and bounced down the stairs. He opened the door to an impatient Aisha, who perfectly channeled Dionne from Clueless—plaid skirt, towering Seuss hat, and all.

Billy laughed, delighted by her choice. “You nailed it!”

“Thanks! And yes, Kim is obviously coming as Cher!” Aisha giggled as she wiped her box braids back.

Dionne stepped past Billy with a large bag in hand, which was filled to the brim with Halloween decorations and—



“Booze, as requested,” the Yellow Ranger proudly pulled one of the bottles.

“Morphin’! This way!” Billy grinned, leading her to the kitchen.

As they walked, Dex appeared at the foot of the stairs, sans monster, mostly. He snuck up behind Billy, wrapping an arm around his waist and planting a fast kiss onto his neck. “To be continued later?”

Smiling, Billy turned and delivered a peck back. “Of course. No tricks, all treats, my perfect Prince.”

But unbeknownst to the Blue Ranger, the night ahead would bring few treats but plenty of tricks—for him, for Dex, and the entire team.

Chapter Text

The weekend before actual Halloween is for partying, period. And that’s what roughly half of Angel Grove High seniors were doing at Billy’s. Over the bustle blasted Rollin’ With My Homies from the Clueless soundtrack, a song Dionne herself picked. Aisha was dancing up on some boy she had been flirting with, while yellow plaid-clad Cher stood nearby with Lestat de Lioncourt from Interview with the Vampire.


“Too bad you got that little injury from your karate class,” Kim threw a smirk at her ghostly boyfriend. “Otherwise, we could show them how it’s really done, ha!”


Tommy, grinning, planted a kiss atop her bleach-blonde head. “Thanks for your patience with it. Can’t wait ‘til I’m fully healed up.”


Kim’s smile fell, just slightly, as she recalled how fraught things have been lately. Between Tommy’s near-constant travel to Cross World City and her marathon workouts with Gunter Schmidt, face time went from daily to catch you on the flip. And after a while, the prospect of their flame burning out set in, giving the Pink Ranger pause about their future.


“Oh, I almost forgot. Adam’s bringing someone,” Tommy added as he reached for his drink. “I think this is their first official thing.”


“Ooh, seriously?” Kim perked right up at the opportunity to gossip. “Spill! Tell me everything.”

“Ha, not much to tell,” Tommy started after a brief sip. “Tao’s niece. Sweet girl. They’ve been hanging after my classes since Adam started subbing for me.”

“Aww, that’s cute,” Kim giggled, her eyes moving to the wrap around Tommy’s left ankle. “I guess your accident was meant to be, huh?”

“Heh, maybe. Glad something good came from it.”

Privately, Tommy hated his injury. He loved busting his butt two towns over after the final bell. Tao was his ticket to managing his own dojo someday, which meant less time with Kim and more time in Cross World City, which, to his surprise, didn’t bug him much. But his biggest fear was hurting his girlfriend and not feeling the same as he once did.

Across the room, a shirtless Rocky—his face smeared with combat paint as Rambo—was engaged in a loud discussion about their football team’s horrible stats with several non-Ranger friends. His eyes drifted over to Aisha, who was more or less getting dry-humped by a second-rate Peter Pan to Baby Got Back. 

“Christ, get a room,” he muttered, just loud enough to invite commentary.

Carlos Vallerte, the school’s wide receiver and tonight’s Zorro, bumped their shoulders. “Primo! You jealous?”



Rambo shot his friend an incredulous look. “What? Bro, no way! Not in a million years!”



“Yeah, okay!” Carlos laughed. “You’ve been stealing glances all night, but whatever you say!”



Over in the kitchen, Billy AKA The Terminator worked to wipe a spill someone left on the counter. Peeve sat behind his shades, having not anticipated this level of turnout for what started as just the power team. But with Rocky’s persuasion skills and a Gene-free house all week…

“Take a break, Mr. Clean!” It was Dex, reentering the kitchen with a beer in hand. “They’re playing Nightmare on Elm Street in the den, and I’m gonna die in sync with Johnny Depp. Come watch.”



“Don’t joke about dying, please,” Teen T-800 grumbled as he pitched a wad of paper towels. “That’s basically my biggest fear.”



Slinking past a group of chatty witches, a grimacing Dex stepped into Billy’s space. “Now, why would you ever think that?”



“Come on, babe, you know…” the blue Ranger said, his voice low and sad. “Everything that just happened with… You know.”



“The fates have already decided—I am here to stay,” Dex said, leaning in. “No need to worry, alright?”



Billy forced a weak grin, but his fears wouldn’t be quelled so easily. It wasn’t long ago when his entire world flipped upside down after the chaos surrounding the Shoguns and Super Gold—which felt like a bad dream, still.



Seeing the solemn face staring back, Dex hovered his lips by Billy’s ear and whispered, “Zen kais, e ha’kai cur vorr’un ethna sil’kar norel vorr’ben.”



A befuddled Billy pulled back and lowered his shades. “Come again?”



“That was Edenese for—I love you, and nothing can stop us now.”



Billy’s hands and face grew hot with emotion, and like a magnet, his lips connected with Dex’s.



The chatty witches nearby giggled at their open display. Billy shot a look at one who aww’d a little too loudly for his comfort. “Love you more,” he whispered back.



“Yo!” Rocky, entering the kitchen with an empty for the recycle bin, waved over. “Got a sec?”



The couple squeezed past the gossipy witch huddle and joined young Rambo in the hall. “Sup, Rock?” Billy asked.



Rocky adjusted his headband as he gestured toward the crowded living room. The boys followed the nod and immediately honed in on—



“Adam…”



Billy didn’t expect the Black Ranger to show—his invitation was purely performative and encouraged (read: pressed) by Aisha to “do it for the team.” Adam, or rather Ryu from Street Fighter, played the part well with a worn karate gi and flowy red bandana. And with him, a girl almost nobody knew.

“Oooo, Chun Li in the house!” Aisha cooed, joining the gang in the hall. “She’s gorgeous. Who is she?”

“Cassie Chan. Tommy’s boss’s niece,” Rocky answered. “My boy knows how to pick ‘em, right? Hot damn!”

Aisha rolled her eyes as Billy gave an appraising look at his favorite character from Street Fighter II. “I’m surprised his church let him attend a Halloween function with us heathens. How nice of them.”

“Billy,” Dex shook his head. “You should at least greet him.”

“Or, you know, not.”

Rocky nodded over to Adam, who nodded back, his cheerful eyes connecting next with the others. 

“He’s coming over,” Rocky cut his eyes to Billy. “Look, bro… he accepted your invitation ‘cause he really thought you wanted to talk, so maybe do that? Give him a chance?”

Billy exchanged a look with Dex, whose face suggested agreement to bury the hatchet. “Ugh, great. You, too?”

“Maybe tonight can be a reset, to clear the air,” an optimistic Aisha offered, hastily. 

Billy glowered at Dionne as Adam wove his way through the sea of bodies with Cassie in tow. But luck stepped in as Cher and Dollar Tree Tom Cruise pulled the Black Ranger over to say hello, no doubt nosy about his companion.

“Darn, he’s busy!” Billy grinned whilst grabbing Dex’s hand. “Let’s go check on that movie.”

Rocky and Aisha traded glances as the couple scooted away. “Damn, I thought I was good at holding grudges,” the Yellow Ranger shook her head.

Rocky shrugged as his eyes met the tall hat atop Aisha’s head. “You make that thing yourself?”

“I did!” she beamed. “Ain’t it cute?”

“Sure… if your goal was to dress as Mall Rat Dr. Suess.”

Aisha was quick to put a finger in Rocky’s face, but she quickly relented. “You know what? Never mind. I’ve got someone over that way who’s into it. Peace, loser.”

“Wait wait wait, I’m kidding!” Rocky laughed, reaching his arm to grab hers. “At least tell me who's the clown you’ve been grinding on.”



Not giving him another second, Aisha snatched her arm back and kept moving. Though Rocky appeared satisfied with his playful dig, an unexpected twitch pulled at his heart. Remorse, perhaps. Something else, maybe.

The Ranger cut his gaze to Kim, who was busy chatting Adam and Cassie's ears off. A heavy sigh escaped Rocky as he recalled their situation from Ultra. He moved to approach, but pivoted last second, fearing an uncomfortable exchange, after already acknowledging why she was keeping her distance. “Fuck…my biggest fear was never telling you how I felt… I just wish you felt the same, gorgeous…”



Over in the den, the party noise was muffled compared to the rest of the house. A sizeable group was crowded around the big screen where A Nightmare on Elm Street played. Billy knew the movie well, but he loved it even more with his boyfriend paying tribute to Glen, Johnny Depp’s ill-fated character.



As Billy stood behind the sofa and watched, Dex approached, smoothly snaking his arms around his waist and resting his chin over his shoulder. “You good?”

Billy shrugged. “Sure, I guess. But look who just came on screen: the muse for your getup.”



Dex surely noticed, now cheesing at the pivotal bedroom scene where Glen Lantz would meet his demise. The posters, the outdated headphones, and that no. 10 crop-top jersey that screams I’m too pretty to die! “Hell yes! God… Johnny’s so hot.”

Billy echoed the sentiment. “So hot.”



Glen, lying on his bed like he’s modeling for Tiger Beat Magazine, ignored all warnings from his girlfriend Nancy about falling asleep. And yet… lights out. With TV pulled closed, headphones on, and back resting, his fate was sealed, soon to be swallowed into his bed and blood gushing out like the grand fountain inside Angel Grove Mall. And right on cue, Dex threw himself onto the ground and writhed wildly, earning woos and claps from all.



Billy covered his mouth to keep from laughing; he meant what he said about fearing for Dex's life. But despite all that, the handsome ham won a super attractive snort from his Ranger boyfriend.



As Billy offered a hand up, something caught the corner of his eye: a short figure in a brown flowy cloak, their face obscured by a sizeable hoodie. They moved like a shadow, effortlessly slinking through the partying mob.



“Who’s that?” Billy asked beneath his breath, his eyes falling to the spherical object in their gasp.



“Who, what?” Dex asked, now back on his feet.

The Rider scanned the room, then the adjacent hall, the part he could see anyway. Billy craned his neck out, trying to see past several Sailor Scouts standing in the way. “Someone just walked by in some weird cloak. I couldn’t see who,” he replied, his brow raised with curiosity.



The Blue Ranger dipped to investigate, leaving behind Dex, who was already pulled back into the flick. The disguised figure grinned menacingly within the darkness of their hood, their eyes affixed on the roaring glow of the crystalline sphere.



“Excellent, it’s responding! Gather their fears, Crystal of Nightmares! And soon, very soon, the Power Rangers will fall prey sans sleep this time. Then, Rita will have no choice but to reward me with her gratitude… and her heart…”